Written by

Zerayn D.

“September is the other January.” — Gretchen Rubin 

You see, I’ve been immersed in narrative poetry in my recent posts. Yet a growing worry began to settle in me—what if I could no longer paint with words? What if I had lost the spark to conjure another phantasmagoric dream? I hadn’t even shared my recent journey to Phú Quốc.

Frustration crept in as I felt ideas slipping away, leaving a quiet void. But then, a realization dawned—I was, in truth, learning something different. Those pursuits—poetry, painting, travel—had become part of a familiar rhythm, a comfortable cycle. And when I stepped into an entirely new, unfamiliar world, something within me began to shift.

That shift started with my perspective. Then, it touched my spirituality, stirred my emotions, and reshaped my overall disposition.

And I’ve noticed that change—vivid and undeniable. It felt extraordinary, as though I was tapping into the natural pathways of my being more deeply than ever before. Slowly, I watched this new scene unfold before my eyes, my hands open, brimming with wonder. My ears leaned in, eager for a melody freshly brewed by the universe, while my mind worked to untangle long-standing doubts.

I love this mystery and what it evokes within me. I love this mystery and the way it stretches the boundaries of my being. I love this mystery, for it has taught me how to love someone once seen as ugly and weak.

January whispered reconciliation. February offered restoration. March became a map to rediscovery. April opened doors of transparency. May taught me patience as I waited for what is official. Though June brought no clear return, July reignited a hopeful flame. August arrived with new gems, quiet and precious—and now, September… make it all real.