Sometimes, life feels like it has settled into a permanent state of shadow. We find ourselves in those long, heavy stretches of time where the weight of worry or sadness feels so thick that we forget what light even looks like. Victor Hugo’s beautiful words remind us that darkness, no matter how vast or intimidating it seems, is never a permanent resident. It is merely a season, a passing phase that must eventually yield to the inevitable dawn. The sun doesn't ask for permission to rise; it simply follows the natural order of the universe, and so will your brighter days.

In our everyday lives, these dark nights often show up as unexpected setbacks, like losing a job, a broken relationship, or just a period of deep loneliness. When you are in the middle of it, it is incredibly hard to hold onto hope. It feels as though the stars have gone out and the path ahead is completely obscured. We tend to focus so much on the coldness of the night that we lose sight of the fact that the earth is still turning, moving us steadily toward a new morning.

I remember a time when I felt quite lost myself, sitting in a quiet corner of my nest, feeling like the gloom would never lift. I had faced a series of small disappointments that felt like a heavy fog. I kept waiting for a grand, cinematic moment of change, but nothing happened. It wasn't until I stopped fighting the darkness and simply allowed myself to rest that I noticed the tiny, subtle shifts in the light. One morning, the air felt just a little bit warmer, and I realized the sun had been creeping back toward me all along, even when I wasn't looking.

This teaches us that healing and change often happen quietly, beneath the surface, while we are simply enduring. You don't always have to force the sun to rise; you just have to stay present enough to witness it when it arrives. The dawn is coming, even if your eyes are currently closed in exhaustion or grief.

As you move through your day, I want to encourage you to take a deep breath and trust in the rhythm of life. If things feel heavy right now, try to find one tiny, microscopic glimmer of light—perhaps the warmth of a cup of tea or the sound of a bird outside. Hold onto that small spark, and trust that the morning is on its way.