Empires Crumble. Wisdom Doesn’t.
“He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.” — Friedrich Nietzsche
They found my journal
under a collapsed section of drywall.
The one where I used to press my ear
to listen for something softer than silence.
I was twelve when I wrote down
how to lie without moving your mouth.
Fifteen when I cataloged
every apology I rehearsed but never offered.
Twenty when I burned the pages
that sounded too much like someone else.
Whole bloodlines collapsed in my chest
before I ever made it to a classroom.
And still,
no one teaches you
that knowledge and memory
aren’t the same species.
History forgot us,
but the lesson stayed.
These small notes arrive quietly,
like morning light through a cracked window.
No noise. Just truth.
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We live as though permanence is the prize.
We stack buildings higher, code systems faster, and build digital identities like they’ll outlast the tectonic plates.
But they won’t.
Rome fell.
Machu Picchu was reclaimed by vines.
The Library of Alexandria burned.
“Civilizations rise and fall, but wisdom never expires.”
And yet what mattered most from those times?
Not their buildings. Not their borders.
Their wisdom.
The stories. The symbols. The principles.
The deeper truths they fought to preserve in myth, stone, scripture, and silence.
Because real wisdom doesn’t age.
It doesn’t rust.
It doesn’t require updates or apps.
It survives because it was never designed to be fashionable.
Wisdom is the thing that remains when everything else collapses.
When the economy crashes.
When the identity unravels.
When the relationship ends.
And suddenly, you're face to face with yourself.
And the only thing left is how well you know how to live.
Not perform.
Not produce.
Live.
If you’ve been paying attention to the ancient truths beneath the noise, you already know how.
Exciting news! A new Healing Thoughts book is on the way.
Crafted with care, inspired by you, and filled with reflections for the journey ahead.
I’ll be sharing more details in a couple of weeks.
Stay tuned, and thank you for being part of this path.
Today, ask:
“What have I built my life on that won’t last?”
Be honest.
Then ask:
“What kind of wisdom could I rebuild from instead?”
Write it.
Not because it looks good.
But because it holds when nothing else does.
You are not a machine.
You are not your following.
Or your job.
Or your latest reinvention.
You are a living story.
And stories last.
Because truth lasts.
Civilizations collapse.
Economies fail.
Algorithms change.
But wisdom remains.
So root yourself in what doesn’t need to be trendy to be true.
What truth has stayed with you even as life changed?
Maybe something your grandmother said.
Maybe something you read once and never forgot.
Maybe a principle you lived by before the world told you to be someone else.
If you feel safe, share it.
Let’s pass the torch, not just the news.
If you’re here, you’re part of something real, something that holds space for healing without the need to perform. I don’t take that lightly.
If this space feels like home.
If it holds your ache, your becoming, your breath.
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If you think these gentle words cut deep, wait until you read Shadow Thoughts. That’s where I let the truth bleed without cleaning it up for anyone.
This poem is beautiful and heartfelt. It has a very striking verse.