Still Seeing in the Dark, when the color shifts.

    The color is still with me — but it’s changing.

What was once a hot pink-red leaning heavily into red is now moving a little more toward hot pink. The warmth is still there. The intensity hasn’t disappeared. But there’s a softness arriving alongside it, and that feels important enough to notice.

I’m learning that seeing in the dark isn’t about clinging to what stays the same. It’s about paying attention to what shifts.

This color doesn’t feel restless or unstable. It feels like motion with intention. Like something that knows where it’s going, even if I don’t have the language for it yet. A hot pink carries boldness, but it also carries expression. It’s vibrant without being harsh. It shows up unapologetically.

There’s something comforting about realizing that energy can evolve without losing its strength.

As someone who navigates the world through lived experience, disability, adaptation, and awareness, I’ve come to trust subtle changes more than dramatic ones. Big shifts announce themselves loudly. Gentle shifts ask to be felt instead of explained.

This one feels like that.

Still seeing in the dark doesn’t mean I’m searching for clarity in the traditional sense. It means I’m allowing perception to deepen. It means I’m noticing how internal landscapes change color just like the sky does — slowly, naturally, without asking permission.

Hot pink doesn’t erase the red that came before it. It carries it forward. It builds on it. It says: strength can glow, not just burn.

I don’t need to decode this moment. I don’t need to label it as anything other than what it is — awareness in motion. A reminder that growth isn’t static. Neither is healing. Neither is creativity. Neither is identity.

So I’m letting the color move.
I’m letting myself move with it.

Still seeing in the dark.
Still trusting what I notice.
Still here.

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