Wander deep into the bounds of the books you have meant to read

This is a letter in response to the writer who sent me a message. She has come back home from time abroad, but has not been able to write. I wrote these words for her.

I hope in this season you can find the courage to keep traveling, even when your feet are firm on the ground. Even when you are sitting still on the most ordinary of days, may you still find a way to wander deep into the bounds of the books you have meant to read and follow each line on each page like a little trail of its own.

May you cover all the grounds of the photographs you have already taken. and not only to reminiscence but to gather any little detail you perhaps may have missed: any sound, smell, or and anything at all you felt.. because even when those pocket-sized memories seem so far away, they are still a part of the story of who you are today.

And maybe when you start to look back, you will find that even the most extraordinary of things can still be broken down to pieces available for your grasp even after seasons pass.

For your wealth has never been in possessions or things acquired, but in wisdom and knowledge gathered, even through your younger years.

May you look back on those days of your life as the moments from which you will write, and may you see these present moments in that same light too.

May you find the courage to pick up the pen again. To open a new journal and write one sentence at a time, and fill every single page, line by line. And not with clever words or even planned out prose, but of the stories and learnings and yearnings of your life.

Your prayers. Your hopes. Your dreams and desires, and the grace that continually carries you higher and higher. And if you ever feel again that you might be unraveling, may you be reminded you are still traveling, and with every step, you will grow and learn more of who you are and who you were meant to be.

And even though there are always so many things to figure out, may you find joy in the process of waiting and learning to write it all down.

Again and again, may you continue to choose life, and let what you are learning become the words you write; journal bound reminders of the trails you have tread, and the hope you discovered as you wait for days ahead.

Sincerely, Morgan Harper Nichols