Rabbit, rabbit.

Rabbit, rabbit.

It’s a small, quiet ritual for the first of the month—whispered in the stillness of early morning, a way of welcoming in a little extra luck, a little extra hope.

And today feels like it’s holding more than just a new page on the calendar. It’s also the first full moon of spring and the start of a new quarter.

Normally I begin each new quarter by reflecting on the one before it—taking inventory of everything that didn’t happen. The plans that stayed plans. The intentions that never quite found their footing.

But considering the heaviness of the last few months and the optimism of this new season, I’m not going to do that this time.

Instead of measuring what was missed, I want to honor what was:

The days I showed up, even when it felt heavy.
The moments of steadiness tucked between uncertainty.
The small, quiet ways I kept going, even when it didn’t look—or feel—like progress from the outside.

Standing here, at the entrance to April, that small shift feels huge. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I need a reset. Instead, it feels like an invitation to re-enter my life on my own terms.

Not with pressure to do more or be more or a perfectly mapped-out plan. But with a gentler kind of awareness. The kind that comes from noticing what I need instead of pushing past it. And from leaving space for something new to take root, without demanding that it bloom right away.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing perfect. Just a quiet willingness to begin again.

Rabbit, rabbit.

With presence,
Orly 🤍