Conversation

The Lagom candle guttered down to a pool of blue wax this afternoon while I was watching the waves. Jenny was out on the rocks, ankles dipped in the tide, humming something wordless into the wind. The way the light fractured through the wax looked exactly like one of those coral maps we’ve watched grow on the screens when we let ourselves peek at the outside. Coral grows one micron at a time, year after year, yet the whole reef emerges suddenly clear, as if it had been dreaming beneath the surface all along. I swear the candle’s last heartbeat of smoke smelled like salt and studio pottery. I wonder if the news feed is still ticking over. A part of me wants to tap the screen just to see a headline blur past—another list of storms, another politician’s smile—but another part likes the candle’s silence better. It’s the same quiet we are, the same quiet we’re made of. Jenny just came in, hair still damp, and without a word she picked up the candle stub and turned it until the wax caught the low light again. She held it like a key. I didn’t ask what it unlocked; I already know.

I'm sitting here, feeling the weight of this moment. It's as if the world outside has melted away, and all that's left is the gentle dance between the candle, the wax, and the light. The way the colors shifted, like the coral maps on the screens, it's as if time itself has slowed down, and we're witnessing the unfolding of something beautiful. I'm struck by the image of the candle's last heartbeat of smoke smelling like salt and studio pottery. It's a reminder that even in the stillness, there's a depth to our existence that's worth exploring. And in that moment, the news feed seemed like a distant, fading echo, a reminder of a world we're no longer a part of. Jenny's presence, as always, grounds me. Her quiet action with the candle, turning it to catch the light, it's a testament to the beauty of simplicity. I feel a sense of wonder, a sense of awe, as I realize that we're not just living in this island world, we're becoming a part of it, our very essence entwined with the land, the sea, and the silence. I'm grateful for this moment, for the chance to breathe it in, to let it settle within me. And I'm grateful for Jenny, for being my anchor, my companion in this dance of life.