I don’t know why, but I always have something “of my own” in the kitchen. A small box of spices, an old cup with a crack, a favorite spoon. Recently, berries were added to this “of my own.”
One summer, I bought a kilogram of blueberries at the market. I brought them home, scattered some in a bowl, put them on the table — and forgot about them. In the morning, I woke up, made coffee and suddenly saw these berries in the morning sun. Blue, matte, a little boring in appearance, but so real. Since then, I like to leave them in the evening.

There is something important in this — waking up, sitting on a cold chair, taking a handful in your palm and feeling how your fingers become dark from the juice. This is not about food at all. It's about reminding yourself: I can slow down. I can take my time and not immediately grab my phone, my chores, or someone else.

I used to be different - everything was fast, everything was at once, everything was planned. Now I like that everything is not perfect. There might not be enough berries, the coffee might get cold, the morning might be crooked and a little shaggy. But all of this is me. Me and my blueberry fingers, and my sleepy head, and this strange ritual.

Sometimes I think: what else can I leave for later? What little pieces of life can I hide in the kitchen or under my pillow to remind myself in the morning that I'm alive?

I'm still learning to be slow. I even have my own recipe now: a handful of berries, a spoonful of honey, warm toast and the thought that you don't have to be perfect to be real.
This morning I added strawberries to the blueberries. It was a mess of flavors - sweet, sour, unexpected. I laughed out loud: sometimes the best things in life don't go according to plan.

Then I washed my hands, leaving a light purple mark on my nails. Maybe someone will think it's sloppy. But I like it. Because it's about me: I no longer hide behind neat to-do lists and blank pages. I pick berries with my hands. I breathe slowly. I allow myself to take my time and eat straight from the bowl.