Belief is a house built to our own size—walls shaped by wonder, windows framed by hope. For a time, we live there, comfortably, as if it were all we’d ever need. But time stretches us. We grow, or perhaps we outgrow. The ceilings feel lower, the corners tighter, and suddenly, we find ourselves packing up, seeking a new shelter for the truths we now carry.

Maturity is the quiet act of moving—sometimes with grace, sometimes with grief—from one house of belief to another. We wander through unfamiliar rooms, or return to old ones, rearranged for convenience, nostalgia, or comfort. Each house offers a different view of the world, a different echo of ourselves.

But perhaps wisdom is knowing that none of these houses are truly ours. They are resting places, not roots. And so, the wise one walks lightly, making of each belief not a fortress, but a temporary address—where truth can visit, stay a while, and then move on, unburdened. 🙏🏾❤️

©️ Beatriz Esmer