By Samantha Syrnich (TLC)
© 2025 — All Rights Reserved
Imagine if we measured success
not by trophies,
titles,
or noise,
but by the quiet exhale someone releases
when they stand beside us
and finally feel safe.
Imagine if worth was counted
in steadied breaths,
in shoulders unclenching,
in the way a wounded heart softens
because our presence does not harm it.
What if legacy lived
in how gently we held the world—
not in perfection,
but in the small mercies we offered
without anyone asking.
What if greatness was defined
by the peace we cultivate,
the trust we earn,
the sanctuary we become
for those who have known too much fear.
Imagine a world
where success is simply this:
that someone walked away from us
more whole than they arrived,
and their spirit whispered,
I am safe here.
The Phoenix Quill: Words Born of Fire, Inked in Truth 