Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 28, 2026

Erika's Dream

 When the door appeared


"A door appears only when you’re ready to walk through it." That was what the old woman in town always said, though Erika never quite believed her, until the night the fog rolled in thick as wool and the world felt strangely paused, like someone had pressed a cosmic hold button.

She’d been walking the familiar dirt road behind her house, the one that curved toward the creek and the whispering pines. But tonight the path felt different, as if it were waiting. The air hummed. The trees leaned in.

And then she saw it.

A door stood in the middle of the road—no frame, no house, no reason. Just a door. Weathered oak, iron hinges, a brass handle worn by hands she couldn’t imagine. It shouldn’t have been there. It couldn’t have been there.

Yet it was.

Erika approached slowly. The fog parted around it, respectful. She reached out, then hesitated. Her heart thudded—not with fear, but with recognition. As if some quiet part of her had been expecting this moment for long, painful months.

The door didn’t glow or whisper or beckon. It simply existed, patient and certain, like a truth she’d finally stopped running from.

She touched the handle.

Warm.

The door clicked open.

On the other side was not another world, not a fantasy landscape, not a revelation of cosmic secrets. It was her own living room. Sunlit, peaceful, exactly as she’d left it. But something was different. The air felt lighter. The silence felt kinder. And she felt… whole.

She stepped through.

The door closed behind her with a soft thud, and when she turned, it was gone. Just her living room, her couch, her books, her life.

But she knew, deep in her soul, that she had crossed a threshold. Not into another place, but into another version of herself. One that was ready. One that had finally said yes.

Outside, the fog lifted.

Inside, Erika smiled, ready to start a new chapter in her life.



Erika M Szabo is known for her diverse range of writings, which span historical fantasy, magical realism, cozy mysteries, sweet romance, and children's literature. Her writing style is both expressive and insightful, transporting readers into the depths of the characters' emotions.
Born in a small town in Hungary, Erika grew up with a deep love for literature and storytelling. Always seen with a book in her hand from a young age and soon began creating her own intricate worlds and characters. Her gift for storytelling is evident to all those who know and have encouraged her to pursue her passion.
As she grew older, Erika's thirst for adventure and new experiences led her to travel the world. She lived in various countries, soaking up their cultures and traditions, and absorbing them into her writing. Her travels also allowed her to meet a diverse array of people, whose stories and perspectives she wove into her novels.
Despite her literary success and acclaim, Erika remains a humble and down-to-earth person. She often speaks of her belief in the power of words to connect and heal, and her writing reflects this deep empathy and understanding of human experience.

Sunday, February 22, 2026

Life Moves in Circles

 Why Spirals Appear in Every Culture


Spirals are one of humanity’s oldest symbols. 

Long before writing, people carved them into stone, painted them on pottery, wove them into clothing, and traced them into the earth. They show up in Hopi, Celtic, Māori, Norse, African, Greek, and Hungarian traditions, cultures separated by oceans, mountains, and centuries.

So why this shape? Why everywhere?

Because the Universe Is Built from Spirals. Ancient people didn’t need telescopes to notice the pattern. Snail shells, fern leaves unfurling, tornadoes, water swirling down a drain, the Milky Way. The spiral is nature’s signature, a quiet reminder that the small and the cosmic mirror each other.

Life Moves in Circles, Not Lines.

Many cultures saw the spiral as the map of a human life: Inward means memory, ancestry, the self. Outward means growth, destiny, transformation. It’s the shape of becoming, always returning, always expanding. Spirals appear in every culture because humans kept noticing the same thing: The universe is always turning, and we are turning with it.