In the absence of connection there is always suffering.
What if you didn't have to carry it alone?
What if there was a space where the weight finally had somewhere to go?
You don't need fixing. You need presence.
Someone to see your humanness without flinching. Without advice.
You've done the work alone long enough.
What if you didn't have to?
Friends of the soul. Diverse people from all corners, moving through life together.
Suffering can close you off. Or it can crack you open—tenderize you until you're completely accessible. The ones who've been through it carry something rare: the capacity to meet others at depths most people can't reach. To sit with someone who's drowning alone, not to fix them, but to simply be there. That kind of presence—no games, no masks—is a gift beyond measure.