Dear friend,

There are moments when the voice steps back—not out of exhaustion, but because time no longer belongs to it.

I have been living in that place.

Over these past weeks of silence, life has narrowed to something almost invisible: nights without edges, days suspended in a dim, quiet light, the body moving to a rhythm no longer guided by will. In that space, words do not disappear, but they change form—they become breath, pulse, a thread not yet ready to take shape.

I did not want to bring that kind of exposure into EASTBOUND RETURN.

This space—as you know—has no room for haste or pretense. Writing belongs here only when it can stand in its own truth. To force it would have meant betraying what calls it into being.

And yet, even in the silence, something has continued to unfold. Not on the page, but deeper within: a different kind of listening, a patience I did not know, a way of being that does not rush to understand. As if, in the absence of direction, another path were quietly finding its way.

I am not fully back yet.

But I am beginning to sense, very faintly, a direction. A nearly invisible thread that, if it holds, will lead me back to you.

I wanted to leave a trace of that thread.

And to thank you for staying—also through this time without words.

I will return, when voice and time find each other again.
Where the thread holds.

With affection,
Maja