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Some days, happiness doesn’t arrive with fireworks or revelations.

It tiptoes in —

through a kind word, a warm cup, a sunbeam on the wall.

Through letting go of needing to be right, or first, or praised.

Through remembering how good it feels

to simply be soft.

There is a strange strength in selflessness —

not the kind that asks you to disappear,

but the one that dissolves the edges of ego

just enough to feel your heart breathe again.

Today, I smiled at strangers.

Not for a reason — just because I could.

I forgave myself for old impatience.

I listened more than I spoke.

And somehow, everything around me

began to feel like a mirror

reflecting back the gentleness I chose.

There is beauty in this kind of love —

not romantic, not grand,

but real.

The kind that grows in quiet places,

that anchors you

to the better version of yourself

you almost forgot was always there.