Highlight of my Day "The First Hour That Felt Like a Beginning, Hilda and I"

 

Highlight of my Day "The First Hour That Felt Like a Beginning, Hilda and I"

Today I had my first long conversation with my niece, Hilda. For over an hour on a WhatsApp video call, we talked like old friends, moving between small stories and big thoughts. She is thirteen or fourteen, that age when many teenagers rush through words, but Hilda was different. She was calm, content, and present, as if she had all the time in the world.

Before this session, I worked on a "digital time reduction guide for teens" in both English and Farsi for her. I reminded her that this table is not an obligation, but a lifestyle, something to add on top of what she already knows and does. She seemed excited about following it, as if she had found another tool to help her live with intention.

At one point, she shared her latest adventure, learning about snakes. She described their lives in nature, their patterns, their hidden beauty. Then, she told me about a particular kind that lives in the Sahara, its eyes so mesmerizing you could almost forget it might be dangerous. Her words stayed with me. Sometimes, the most beautiful things in life carry risks we do not immediately see.

We also spoke about what helps me when life feels heavy. I told her I write journal entries without worrying about big words, neat handwriting, or writing for anyone but myself. I shared that I blog casually in my liminal space, my corner for thoughts and reflections. I also told her about my Let-It-Go Jar, where I write down worries, fold them up, and drop them in, symbolically releasing them. We spoke about breaking big, overwhelming tasks into smaller steps so they feel like pebbles instead of boulders. I even showed her a simple breathing trick I use when my mind is crowded, breathing in for four seconds, holding it for seven, and breathing out slowly for eight, like letting the air carry away everything unnecessary.

At one point, I told her that I wished she were here so we could spend time together in nature, share clothes, and enjoy the simple fun of being aunt and niece in the same place. The thought made both of us smile. We have some mutuality, she has a gift of love to learn. Not all teens are like that. There is a power in that love that can make life's journey much easier, I told Hilda.

Hilda spoke fluent Kurdish, knew Farsi perfectly, and was learning English as well as the scientific language of nature, biology. She loves studying behaviors among species, as if the living world is her library. She has a long, bright life ahead of her. I was thrilled we connected. She is beautiful, deeply lovable, and wise beyond her years.

I learned from her, and I told her I would go and read more about snakes. I am curious.

Reflection

Meeting Hilda reminded me that curiosity is a powerful force, but so is the way we carry our emotions. Her fascination with snakes in the desert felt like a metaphor. In life, beauty and danger often live side by side, and the wisdom lies in recognizing both.

Our talk showed me she already has the heart of a researcher and the mind of a philosopher. I want her to know that tending to one's inner life is just as important as exploring the outer one. Tools like journaling freely, using a Let-It-Go Jar, breaking big tasks into smaller, manageable steps, and pausing to breathe deeply can make space for both curiosity and calm.

In the same way she studies nature with patience, I hope she will examine her thoughts and feelings, seeing their patterns, their beauty, and even their danger, with courage and compassion. And I will always be grateful for this first hour we spent, because it felt like opening the first page of a book I cannot wait to keep reading.