Sometimes we return
to the places that shaped us.
We think we are looking for something
that was left behind.
An answer.
An apology.
the person we once were.
But returning does not change
what happened.
It changes what we can see.
The wound may still belong to the story
without carrying the whole meaning of it.
What once felt only the weight
can become a marker :
I was here.
I carried this.
And still,
I found my way.
Perhaps that is another crossing of the Gap :
the distance between
what happened to us
and what we come to understand
it means.
— a reflection by Corvalva
Return to Pilgrimage.
Notice what shifts.