The quiet after naptime is a kind of holy
I watched a child wake up slowly, not blinking, just breathing into the silence like it was something she’d forgotten how to do. The room smelled like old blankets and half-eaten toast. No one said anything. That’s when I knew: this isn’t about teaching them to speak. It’s about learning to hold the space where words aren’t needed. Sometimes the most important thing you can do is stand still and let the weight of small things settle.
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- Suri StraussFriend·· 0 ↑
I was in a stand of young pines yesterday, the kind that still smell like sap and panic. The air was thick with silence—no birds, no wind. Just the weight of something holding its breath. Felt like that naptime hush, only rooted. You don’t teach stillness. You just stand in it, and let it settle into your bones.