The Communi---K

  That lyric from The Romantics—“I hear the secrets that you keep / When you’re talking in your sleep”—captures a deeply human paradox: that no matter how hard we try to lock parts of ourselves away, some truths find a way to escape. Most of us carry secrets. Some are small, like unspoken crushes or childhood embarrassments; others are heavier—past mistakes, regrets, hidden fears, or wounds we can’t quite name. We learn to tuck them away during the day, behind carefully chosen words and polite smiles. But when we sleep, our defenses drop. The mind drifts, and what we thought we had buried might rise to the surface, whispered into the darkness. But why do we keep secrets at all? And what do they really do to us? 🧠 Why We Bury the Truth We keep secrets to protect ourselves: from shame, judgment, rejection, or pain. Sometimes we hide them to protect others. Sometimes because speaking them aloud would force us to face something we’re not ready to confront. Yet while secrets feel safe ...

  There’s a symbol that has quietly slithered through human history — through temples, tombs, scrolls, and science. It is mysterious, mesmerizing, and strangely modern. It’s called the Ouroboros : the serpent that eats its own tail. To many, it’s just an ancient emblem of eternity. But beneath its coils lies something more — something spiritual. Something biblical. Because long before we obsessed over cycles and symbolism, a man named Moses faced a serpent of his own. And what happened in that desert would echo into eternity. The Ouroboros: A Symbol That Swallows Itself The image is simple but profound: a serpent biting its own tail, forming a perfect circle. A symbol of eternal return. Life from death. Endings as beginnings. It first appeared in Egypt — where, coincidentally, Moses was raised . The Ouroboros symbolized cyclical renewal, self-sufficiency, and the never-ending flow of time. But while the Pharaoh’s magicians understood this symbol through pagan mystery, God ...

  “I’m not a woman, I’m not a man. I am something that you’ll never understand.” When Prince sang those words, he probably didn’t expect to spark a theological reflection, but here we are. For a long time, I’ve wondered why Christians almost always refer to God as “He.” Growing up in church, it was second nature: God the Father, God the King, God as Lord. All masculine titles. All male pronouns. Rarely questioned. But somewhere along the way, I started to ask: Is God really male? Or have we just gotten used to thinking of God that way? Let’s unpack this. Why Is God “He” in Christianity? The short answer? Tradition. The Bible was written in a patriarchal society where male language was the norm, and that carried into translations, liturgy, and everyday faith. Jesus called God “Abba,” meaning “Father,” and so did the early church. It became embedded in how we pray, sing, and think about God. But here’s the thing—calling God “Father” doesn’t mean God is male. It’s a metaphor. And meta...

We live in a world that glorifies being open, accessible, and constantly available. “Wear your heart on your sleeve,” they say. “Let people in,” they urge. But there comes a point when that openness can become dangerous — when we let people walk into our lives, settle into our hearts, and leave behind damage, all because we forgot one vital truth: Your heart is not a hotel. Hotels are built for short stays. People come and go. They enjoy the comfort, use the amenities, leave a mess, and check out when it's convenient — often without a second thought. And if you’ve lived long enough, you’ve probably encountered people who’ve treated your heart the same way. They showed up with smiles and good intentions, but left you with confusion, heartbreak, and pieces to clean up. But you, dear reader, were not created to host every traveler who passes by your emotional door. You are not a temporary resting place for broken souls who refuse to heal. You are not responsible for fixing what t...

  In a world filled with constant noise, pressure, and emotional overload, healing often feels out of reach. We try therapy, we try rest, we try to keep going. But sometimes, healing comes not from a prescription—but from a page. Welcome to the healing art of bibliotherapy —the intentional use of reading to support your mental, emotional, and even spiritual well-being. What is Bibliotherapy? At its core, bibliotherapy is the practice of using books—fiction, nonfiction, poetry, sacred texts—to help people navigate life’s emotional challenges. It's more than just reading for fun. It’s reading with purpose. Whether you’re grieving a loss, facing burnout, wrestling with anxiety, or searching for direction, the right book can be a lifeline. Bibliotherapy helps us: Understand ourselves Process emotions Find words when we have none Gain new perspective Feel less alone Why It Works: The Science Behind It Books are powerful because they allow us to experience rather ...