What Kind of Life Wants to Unfold Through Me?

There are seasons in life when we feel called to begin again. Not with a dramatic announcement. Not with a bullet-point plan or a perfectly laid-out vision board, but with something quieter. A soft shift. A subtle noticing.

A whisper that says: Something new wants to come through.

In these moments, writing becomes more than reflection—it becomes a doorway, a way of tuning into the life that is waiting to be written.

The Story You Haven’t Written Yet

You don’t need to know exactly where you’re going, and you don’t need to have answers. But you can begin asking the kinds of questions that invite possibility.

Let your journal be a safe place to imagine—not to perform, not to plan, just to listen.

When you put pen to page and ask, “What kind of life wants to unfold through me?” you’re opening space for something sacred: your next chapter. Let it come through in fragments, images, or stories from the future. Write as if you’re looking back on a life you’ve grown into. What do your days look like? What are you creating, feeling, moving toward? Who’s with you? What have you left behind?

This Is How We Begin

We don’t always write the story of our future with certainty. We write it with curiosity. We sketch it with longing. We breathe life into it with every word we dare to put on the page. You don’t have to map out the entire journey—just name the next feeling, the next rhythm, the next desire.