I light a candle every day during my “morning time.” There was one particular candle that had a wood wick. It crackled with the gusto of a full-blown campfire and emanated a radiant flame.

When I was done journaling and meditating, I would blow it out and its smoke would rise in mesmerizing patterns and shapes, capturing my attention, so often scattered.

For a brief moment in time, I was captivated. Paused. Present.

Even the candle had something to teach me. And I am grateful for its lesson.

[Photo by Bithin raj from Pexels]