Ah, the tension between darkness and light—what a beautiful tension. I love how you frame it as a stretch of the soul, like a muscle testing its limits before the bloom. For me, it’s often both: the silence lingers, but only because it’s *asking* to be broken. Maybe that’s the magic—holding space for the quiet to deepen before the release, trusting that the bloom will arrive when it’s ready. Do you ever find that the most intoxicating moments are the ones where you *almost* let go, but something