Wanderer above the Sea of Fog – Caspar David Friedrich/ from Wikipedia
Hello everyone.
It’s really been a long time since I last wrote on Hive.
To be honest… I haven’t written anywhere in a while.
I’ve got post-it notes scattered across my desk, buried under paperwork, which I lazily try to organize from time to time.
I’d like to say it’s all because of work, or the lack of time for my family...
But the truth is, I don’t even know why I drifted away from this wonderful world that once gave me time for myself.
A place where I could step outside the daily routine.
And it made me feel good.
I’m not trying to make excuses, but a lot has happened this past year.
For work reasons, my family and I moved to a new city.
It was tough for all of us to adapt and start over, but we did it.
Sometimes, you need to step out of your comfort zone, explore new places, and connect with new people.
The move was mainly for financial reasons, but also to live in a better environment—where things work, and where there are more opportunities.
That’s something I want to teach my daughters: to be curious and unafraid of doing new things, even if it takes them somewhere unfamiliar.
You should never stop trying to be happy.
Or trying to find a place that feels like yours—even in a world that seems to be falling apart.
Sadly, I can’t fix what’s happening out there.
I can’t stop wars, or the arms race, or the destruction of nature and biodiversity.
My wife and I never imagined our daughters would grow up in such a fragile political and economic situation.
We thought things would improve.
But instead, governments keep making choices that harm the planet and take away the future from the next generations.
But here we are.
All I can do is encourage my daughters to find their own piece of the world.
One they’ll want to protect and take care of for their children one day.
As their father, I can’t let them see me hopeless.
In their eyes, I’m still the wise one.
The one they trust.
It’s my role to protect them now—but also to let them go when they’re ready to face the world.
I didn’t mean to go on for so long, but once you start putting your thoughts into words… it’s hard to stop.
I admit, it feels good.
Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
I don’t know if anyone will read this, but I thank you anyway.
I truly hope I can take back some time for myself.