Three hours later I had one egg that looked like a fever dream and four that I quietly threw away 😂

But here's the weird part — I kept going anyway. Something about the whole process pulled me in. I started reading about what the patterns actually mean, and suddenly I was completely absorbed. The unbroken line that travels the whole egg without a single beginning or end 🌿 That one stopped me completely. Somebody centuries ago decided to wrap an entire philosophy around a piece of shell, and people have been carrying it forward ever since.

That's the thing about traditions — they hold so much more than they look like on the surface. You think you're just dyeing an egg. Then suddenly you're holding something that thousands of women made before you with the exact same motion, the exact same intention. That continuity is almost overwhelming when you actually stop to feel it ✨

I don't think I understood any of this last Easter. Or the one before that. Maybe understanding arrives on its own schedule, completely ignoring yours 😄