There’s always been something magical about waking early… before the sun rises, before the noise begins, before the world asks anything from you.
You get ready quietly, hold your warm cup of coffee, and make your way to the beach.
Then you sit still… watching the horizon, waiting for the day to arrive.
The soft wind touches your face. The water rolls gently onto the shore. Everything moves without rushing. The sun rises above the calm waters and slowly gives life to a new day. God’s creation in front of your eyes.
And in that moment, you remember what peace feels like.
No fear. No heavy emotion. Just gratitude. Just love. Just presence.
It is only you with yourself… inside your own universe, resting in the middle of God’s universe.
Sometimes the most sacred moments are the quiet ones before sunrise.
Maybe Wave 22 is about realizing that peace was never something to chase… it was already there, waiting in the stillness.
-TodayWaves
Do you ever give yourself moments where nothing is required… except to simply be?
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Sometimes we think meaningful moments will look extraordinary when they arrive.
But often, they come disguised as changing sheets, fixing drawers, organizing a room, or sitting quietly on a bed with someone you love.
This weekend I was doing exactly that—moving things around in my daughter’s room, adding LED lights, surprising her with lilies, her favorite flowers. We sat there playing with the different colors they provided, feeling the mood of the room shift with each shade. We watched one of her shows. No rush. No distractions. Just us.
Later we went to the pool, ran, laughed, played—like time had nowhere else to be.
And somewhere in all of it, something shifted inside me.
It didn’t feel like effort. It felt like love in motion. It didn’t feel like a task. It felt like life.
My daughter is growing, and moments like these don’t come as easily anymore. Life expands, schedules fill, attention scatters.
So when one of those moments arrives, I don’t postpone it. I don’t divide myself. I go all in.
Sometimes slowing down and enjoying simple things can feel like wasted time. Like an unproductive day. Like nothing important was accomplished.
Maybe that feeling comes because we’ve filled life with endless to-do lists. We keep adding responsibilities, rushing from one task to the next, measuring our days by what got done instead of what was truly lived.
But maybe we were never meant to race through life collecting checkmarks.
Maybe we’re meant to notice what we already have. To enjoy the people we love without turning every moment into an obligation. To sit, laugh, talk, rest, and be fully there.
Maybe Wave 18 is about realizing that love and fulfillment often arrive disguised as ordinary moments.
Because I’ve learned something simple…
Some of the most meaningful moments don’t announce themselves as important.
They just happen quietly—while you’re present enough to live them.
It’s a quiet night. I’m sitting outside, looking up at a sky that can’t decide if it wants to fully reveal itself. Clouds move slowly across it, soft and unbothered. Not many stars tonight—just enough light to remind me they’re still there.
A cool wind passes through the trees, and somehow even the leaves feel alive with it—like they’re singing, moving just because they can. And I find myself listening.
There’s a strange peace in me tonight. Not loud. Not celebratory. Just… steady. Like something inside me finally stopped running.
This morning, memories came through my phone—old photos, moments that feel like they belong to another version of me. Not distant in time, but in state of being.
Two years ago, everything felt like collapse happening all at once. Health. Emotion. Relationships. Life breaking into pieces in ways I didn’t know how to name at the time.
Cancer is a word that changes the air in a room before it even leaves your mouth.
But even that word… even that chapter… it didn’t end up being only what I thought it would be.
Because cancer… was a teacher.
It taught me how to receive when all I ever knew was how to give.
It showed me the strength inside asking for help— something I am still learning.
Family, friends, coworkers, neighbors… they became a kind of quiet foundation beneath me.
And then there were the invisible hands—doctors, nurses, the ones who move through hospital halls making everything function without needing to be seen.
Moments of care I once would have passed through without noticing.
Now I do. Now I remember.
Hands that showed compassion in ways words never could… brushing my hair, pausing, smiling, being there.
Small gestures that didn’t feel small at all.
And beneath all of it, something quieter was happening too.
A breaking down of who I thought I had to be.
A slow return to something more honest.
I don’t know if you ever fully “finish” learning something like this. Maybe it keeps unfolding in layers you only recognize later.
But tonight, under this clouded sky, I feel it clearly:
Some storms don’t just take things away. Some storms teach you how to stay.
Maybe Wave 16 is about learning that survival was never the end of the story… just the beginning of seeing differently.
Have you ever thought about something… and somehow, it just appears—almost like magic?
Last night, my daughter was talking about a pair of white and blue western boots she wanted. She described them as if she already owned them—so clearly, so naturally.
Today, I found myself looking online, checking prices, wondering where I could get them. But then I had to go out and run an errand. On my way back, something told me to stop at a random store.
Not a western store. Not even a shoe store. Just… one of those everything stores.
And I thought, how amazing would it be to find those boots here… maybe even on sale?
What are the odds, right?
I walked over to the small shoe section. Nothing caught my eye. I was about to leave… and then I paused.
I looked up.
And there they were.
A single pair of white western boots… with blue designs… in her exact size… on super sale.
I just stood there smiling, quietly thanking the universe.
It felt like a whisper: “See? This is easy. Just ask.”
And it made me wonder…
What if in life, we simply need to ask—clearly, directly?
God, the Creator, the Universe… whatever you believe in… maybe it’s already written: Ask, and it will be given.
Maybe the key is to be specific. To visualize it like it’s already yours. Not something distant or unreachable…
But something that already exists, waiting for you.
It’s yours. It’s there.
What do you want? What do you really want?
Go get it.
Trust. Trust.
Maybe Wave 13 is about realizing that the universe is always listening… you just have to be bold enough to ask and trust enough to receive.
I’ve been watching a TV show filmed in my native country, in a city I haven’t visited in more than 20 years. At first, I didn’t even recognize it—it took me a while to figure out which city it was.
And I kept thinking… OMG, what a beautiful place. White tall buildings, glamorous, exotic beach life… it looked like a dream. A place to truly live.
Then I started trying to remember my own time there—what I did, where I went, what I enjoyed. And I realized something that didn’t sit easily with me:
No matter where I’ve lived, I don’t think I’ve ever fully experienced those places.
I was always working. Trying to make a living. Trying to keep everything together.
But not really living… not fully enjoying what was around me.
Maybe we all live inside our own version of the world— where what we do, where we go, and what we can afford quietly shapes our reality.
And maybe… that’s where we miss it.
Maybe we should forget, even if just sometimes, about the cost of things… and jump into the ocean of experiences our own towns have to offer.
Be a tourist in your own life.
A park. A beach. A small café. Something new.
There’s a restaurant near me—every time I drive by, I think, I really want to go there. Maybe just for a glass of wine. But I never stop. I just keep driving.
Why?
Are we scared of being in new places? Scared of the unknown? Or… are we scared of the price tag attached to the experience?
What would life look like if we didn’t measure everything by cost, but by experience?
Would you walk in instead of looking through the window? Would you try new foods, change your hairstyle, wear what truly feels like you… instead of what was simply available?
How different would your life feel?
What would your dream life be?
For me, my center is my family. So my dream is simple, but full—
A bigger home. A garage I can turn into an art studio… a place to explore, to create, to build—and even to break things and start again. The freedom to try new restaurants. To give my daughter everything she needs—and opportunities I never had. To travel the world and let her experience what I missed. And to grow older with peace… knowing I have a place, love, care, and no fear of what comes next.
Maybe Wave 12 is about this: Not everything meaningful in life should come with a price tag… and sometimes, the life we’re dreaming about is waiting right outside—we just have to stop the car and walk in.
Today we went to a resting garden— a place where souls rest, but love doesn’t.
For some, it’s a partner, a parent, a friend… even a child. The roles may change, but the feeling remains— love that continues, only transformed.
We sit on the grass, sometimes in stillness… and sometimes gathered in a quiet picnic of meaning, where conversation flows without effort.
We speak of celebrations and sadness, of memories and present moments, of the waves of life moving through us.
And somehow, it all belongs. As if the connection was never meant to be explained— only felt.
Then the day gently shifts.
Laughter returns in a different form— lighter, playful, alive. Simple moments, easy and warm… yet carrying a quiet awareness beneath them.
Because time is moving. Because childhood doesn’t stay. Because what feels ordinary now is quietly becoming memory.
The games, the laughter, the closeness— these are the moments that will one day be missed.
And somewhere between that resting garden and a home filled with life, there is a deep knowing—
Love doesn’t stay in one place. It rests… it evolves… it lives through us.
I relax, grateful for the life we share— for our small family, imperfect and whole. We laugh, we argue, we live… and in those imperfections, we are uniquely us.
Maybe Wave 10 isn’t about where love ends… but about realizing it never leaves— it simply learns new ways to stay.
Procrastination is a very strong word. It implies that you decide to postpone starting or completing your tasks. Some people think this is just laziness or disorganization, because sometimes you don’t even know where or how to start.
But for me, procrastination is more than that.
I believe our internal system is pre-wired with old beliefs and past experiences, even the ones we don’t remember. Things we learned as children, things we heard growing up, things we saw our parents worry about. All of that, consciously or unconsciously, forms who we become and how we make decisions.
For example, when I was a child I loved painting. Art was definitely my thing. But materials were expensive, and taking classes would have been a luxury we couldn’t afford. Slowly, that love for art became, in my subconscious, something unaffordable, something beautiful, but not for me and I never pursued it.
So it wasn’t procrastination — it was scarcity.
I learned from a young age: I can’t, I don’t have, I can’t afford. Those thoughts created a false illusion that I was not able to do it. Even when my heart and mind wanted it
Fear stopped me. so I didnt procrastinate art. I buried it.
I think we do that with many things in life.
Why don’t you travel if you think you might love it? Why don’t you change your wardrobe for something you really like? Why never try new foods, new ideas? a different hair style?
Why are you stuck in a place you don’t want to be, in a relationship that is hurting you, or in jobs that make you unhappy?
Many times it’s not because you are lazy or irresponsible, but because your subconscious is telling you: No. Stop. You can’t do that.
It’s interesting how sometimes things align. Last night I was walking and thinking about today’s Wave, and procrastination was the word in my mind. This morning I realized how many things I have neglected for months. Not because I don’t want to do them, but because I’m afraid to ask for help, afraid to do it wrong, afraid to find out that maybe I can’t.
I’m also reading a book, and today’s chapter was about procrastination. There was a sentence I highlighted, and I closed my eyes for a moment to really process it:
“The Single Most Destructive Thing You Can Do Is Nothing.”
That sentence stayed with me.
Because what happens if you try and fail? You learn another way. What happens if you try and succeed? Then you try again and improve. But if you don’t try, then nothing happens, and nothing changes.
I’ve been thinking about TodayWaves for a long time, writing ideas on pieces of paper, thinking about it while driving, while working, while walking. Always thinking it has to be perfect, that I’m not ready, that it’s not good enough, that maybe it’s a bad idea, and that “what if” was slowly killing the idea before it even started.
This is a work in progress. I learn something new every day. This is my project, its my baby, and it needs to crawl before it walks, and walk before it runs. No rush, just progress, enjoying the process.
Apple was born in a garage. TodayWaves was born in the middle of a storm in my life.
So maybe it’s not procrastination. Maybe it’s fear.
And maybe the wave you fear is the one that can change your life.
