
That's how it was back then
On the phrase that closes a conversation exactly where it should begin. From the series “Closer to You”.
Articles
Each gift is a path back to you.
This page is a space of shared gifts — personal articles, reflections, and resources born from lived experiences and from the encounter with life’s questions. Each text is an invitation to introspection and to discovering new perspectives, a small gift of light and presence. Here you will find words that settle like seeds, meant to accompany your steps on the inner path.

On the phrase that closes a conversation exactly where it should begin. From the series “Closer to You”.

On the article I no longer open, the book I never finish and the time I say I don’t have.

What we forget to keep seeing as we grow: Saint-Exupéry’s story reread years later.

What happens inside us in the second between “thank you” and “but” – on receiving a compliment.

How one word came to explain everything, and what we lose when we use “trauma” for anything that hurts.

The Mexican Day of the Dead: the ritual that gives the departed a place at the family table again.

The fairy tale reread as an adult: a little girl alone in the forest, and the loneliness hidden in the story.

How a few written pages become a meeting place with yourself, and why journaling helps thoughts stop spinning.

On first names, psychogenealogy and the place we are given in the family story.

How a few steps outside, before the street fills, become a simple ritual of presence that rearranges the day.

On the phrase that closes a conversation exactly where it should begin. From the series “Closer to You”.

On the article I no longer open, the book I never finish and the time I say I don’t have.

What we forget to keep seeing as we grow: Saint-Exupéry’s story reread years later.

What happens inside us in the second between “thank you” and “but” – on receiving a compliment.

How one word came to explain everything, and what we lose when we use “trauma” for anything that hurts.

The Mexican Day of the Dead: the ritual that gives the departed a place at the family table again.

The fairy tale reread as an adult: a little girl alone in the forest, and the loneliness hidden in the story.

How a few written pages become a meeting place with yourself, and why journaling helps thoughts stop spinning.

On first names, psychogenealogy and the place we are given in the family story.

How a few steps outside, before the street fills, become a simple ritual of presence that rearranges the day.