In a world that’s constantly go-go-going, stillness can feel almost impossible to find. Moments to pause and breathe. Times to be quiet and notice what you notice. Or simply let it all slip away and rest in that liminal, in-between space.

Our bones are made of stardust—and so are the rocks. The breath filling our lungs is released into the air, drawn in by the leaves outside the window, transformed into oxygen again to fill the lungs of the bird perched on the branch. The mycelial web beneath our feet mirrors the invisible tangle of relationship that holds us: to each other, to the more-than-human world, to time itself.

I’ve talked to so many people lately who feel like they individually and on a larger scale as a society are in the process of burning things to the ground or needing to burn things to the ground and start completely fresh. So, for this week’s edition of the Oracle Deck Wall Hanging Project, I chose the word “rebirth”.

I think of balance, and I think of scales perfectly leveled. A ballerina on pointe. A point of perfect equilibrium. A calm demeanor that is neither ecstatic nor miserable. A perfect 50/50 split. But is that ever actually possible? Is balance something still, something to be achieved and held? Or is it more like a dance—constant movement, shifting weight, recalibrating with every step?

To practice compassion is to learn to dance with both the light and the dark. It is stepping into the shadow and holding hands with the monsters. It is feeling your heart break and choosing to let the cracks widen and expand rather than sealing them shut. It is allowing your grief to be a portal, an opening rather than an ending. It is looking at all parts of yourself and others and gently asking, Where does it hurt?

This is the second piece in my year-long Wall Hanging Oracle Deck project…A place of refuge. A feeling of safety. A space to exhale, to release vigilance, to soften the shoulders and let go. A moment of relief.