Everything, peace.

Peace, in everything. Not just in the calm, but in the chaos too. In loud rooms where no one listens, in quiet mornings where coffee tastes like healing. Peace, in the breaking of things... glass, promises, hearts... because even shattering has its purpose. Peace, in the laughter that erupts without reason, and in the tears that fall without permission. It’s in the waiting, the wondering, the wishing. It lives in the hands that hold on, and even more in the hands that let go. Peace is not perfection. It’s presence. It’s choosing to stay soft in a world that hardens everything. Peace, in everything... even this.