There comes a point in life when boundaries stop feeling like walls.They become the shape of what���s left.

I used to think boundaries were about saying no to others ��� protecting my time, my space, my energy. But lately I���ve realized they���re really about saying yes to what���s essential. Each boundary draws the outline of my remaining time on this earth ��� the work still to be birthed, the creative fire still to be tended, the quiet still needed to listen for what wants to come through me.

For years, I overextended ��� holding others��� crises, making exceptions, stretching past my own limits because I could. But the truth is, we don���t have endless time. When we reach a certain age, the awareness of mortality isn���t frightening; it���s clarifying. It strips away what doesn���t belong.

My boundaries are no longer defenses; they are devotion.
They mark the sacred container of the life that remains ��� and everything inside that container gets my full presence.

After so many years of holding space for others��� creativity, it���s time to hold that same sacred space for my own.