I know we don’t have many spiritual types on here, but after my dad’s unexpected death, I somehow took my deep reverence for nature and my strong nostalgia for little things like that first leaf crunching beneath my foot, and I turned it into my own brand of spirituality.

I don’t know if it’s akin to a form of animism or what, but (while my beliefs certainly go deeper than observational things and border on druidry more than anything) there almost seems to be a profound spirit that exists within these moments that connects us all to them, and they stir something inside of me far more than any religious tale or sermon ever could.

I don’t know what it all means or if it’s even real, but it brings me an immense sense of comfort.