# Milestones in Quiet Light

## Stones Along the Road

Life unfolds like a long, winding road. Milestones appear now and then—simple markers etched into the earth, noting miles covered. They aren't grand arches or cheering crowds. Just quiet signs: a first step alone, a hand held in promise, a job begun or ended. On this last day of 2025, I think of them not as endpoints, but as breaths taken amid the rush.

These stones remind us distance has meaning. A child’s drawing from years back, yellowed but treasured. A scar from a fall that taught balance. They ground us, whispering we've moved, even when the path felt endless.

## The Pause That Shapes Us

We speed by too often, eyes on the horizon. But stopping at a milestone changes everything. It's where we look back without regret, forward without fear. Feel the weight of what we've carried, set down what we can't. 

In these pauses:
- Gratitude blooms for small victories.
- Forgiveness softens old edges.
- Clarity emerges, like dawn after night.

Here, on New Year's Eve, I pause. The year held its storms and sun; each shaped the road ahead.

## Carrying the Light

Milestones don't stay behind. They become lanterns in our hands—light for darker stretches. We walk on, not lighter, but wiser. The next stone waits, unnamed, ready to mark what matters.

*On this turning of years, pause gently; your milestones glow within.*