Echoing forward

Nothing disappears. Not the words left unsaid. Not the choices made in fear. Not the love given too late. Everything lingers, vibrating beneath the surface, shaping what comes next.

We think we move on. We don’t. We carry it all—the past ricocheting inside us, shaping how we trust, how we fight, how we fold, how we run. Old wounds don’t just vanish; they mutate, get passed down, show up in places we least expect.

But here’s the thing: echoes don’t just happen. We create them. We decide what reverberates into the future. Keep repeating old patterns, and the same ghosts will haunt new forms. Or shift. Disrupt. Send something different forward.

This isn’t about letting go. It’s about transmuting what lingers. Turning static into signal. Making sure what lives on is power, not pain.

What are you letting echo? And is it yours to keep?