At 41, having lived through various transitions; born in São Paulo, immigrating to Canada at the age of five, growing up in an often unhappy home, enduring a long and difficult marriage that ended in divorce, and now raising my nine-year-old daughter as a single father; I’ve been compelled to reflect on what it means to grow older with grace. Life has already taught me the weight of loss and the fragility of existence: the loss of my left eye to glaucoma, the two brain aneurysms I survived, and the heartache that comes from broken relationships. Yet, these experiences have not only scarred me; they’ve also shaped me.

I’ve come to realize that aging gracefully isn’t simply about the outward appearance or clinging to youth. It’s a deeper reckoning with time, a quiet acceptance of the changes within and around us. As I navigate the complexities of midlife, I’ve learned to approach each day with a sense of purpose, embracing the wisdom that pain often brings and the clarity that loss can sharpen.

Key to this journey is self-awareness, particularly in how I care for my body and soul. Holistic health is more than diet and exercise; it’s about the harmonization of mind, body, and spirit. I’ve learned to nourish myself in ways that go beyond the physical; through meaningful relationships, through a spiritual practice that keeps me grounded, and through creating space for silence and reflection. These days, my focus is not on controlling the inevitable changes but on responding to them with patience and reverence.

There’s also a new sense of responsibility as a single father. My daughter, with her innocence and resilience, reminds me daily that aging is not a solitary journey. In her eyes, I see the future and feel a renewed sense of purpose to lead by example; showing her how to navigate challenges, how to face setbacks with dignity, and how to love herself even when the world may not.

Aging, I’ve come to understand, is a dance with time. It’s a gradual shedding of the layers we no longer need; old hurts, limiting beliefs, attachments to things that do not serve us. And in this shedding, I’ve found moments of peace. Life has slowed in ways I didn’t expect, and the urgency of youth has softened into a steadier, quieter ambition.

While I continue to work hard; whether for my health, my career, or as a parent; I’ve begun to appreciate the importance of balance. Each morning, I strive to listen to what my body needs, to be more forgiving to myself when I fall short, and to practice gratitude for the moments of connection I share with my daughter, my family, and my close circle of friends.

The art of aging, for me, lies not in denying the process but in leaning into it with grace. It’s about cultivating inner peace in the face of life’s uncertainties, finding joy in simplicity, and embracing the profound beauty in the act of becoming. It’s about loving deeply and living authentically, despite the scars and the struggles. My journey may have been fraught with hardship, but it has also been rich with learning, growth, and the unshakable belief that, even in the midst of it all, there is grace to be found.

–

An aging mentor, in fading grace,
With wisdom etched upon his face,
He speaks of life, of love, and pain,
As time slips by, like autumn rain.

A student comes, week after week,
To listen close, to hear him speak,
Of work, and loss, and growing old,
Of tender truths, both harsh and bold.

The body weakens, fails, decays,
Yet stronger still, the heart conveys,
That wealth is found in those we love,
In ties below and hopes above.

He teaches not to chase the gold,
But seek the warmth that hands can hold,
In fleeting time, find joy and grace,
For death, in life, we all must face.

Through parting words and final breath,
He shows the way to conquer death:
In giving love, we learn to live,
And find in loss, the strength to give.

— Sincerely, Boris

Once, there was a man who felt lost in the midst of his life’s responsibilities and uncertainties. He had spent years chasing success, relationships, and fleeting moments of happiness, but something was always missing. Deep down, he longed for answers, for a way to navigate life with more clarity and peace. At the center of his world was his 9-year-old daughter, a bright and curious soul who brought light to his life. She was his greatest joy and his greatest motivation to find answers; to become a man who could guide her through the challenges that lay ahead.

He began his search by turning inward, realizing that he had never truly been present in his own life. He had always been running toward the next goal or worrying about the past. It was mindfulness that first opened his eyes; he learned to sit quietly and observe his thoughts, letting them pass without judgment. By practicing awareness, he began to truly see the world around him, moment by moment, for the first time. He felt the ground beneath his feet and heard the sound of his breath, and with each passing day, his mind became less scattered, more centered.

It was through mindfulness that he truly learned to savour his time with his daughter. Whether it was sharing stories before bed or listening to her laughter as she played, he practiced being there, fully engaged, letting the weight of the world fade into the background.

As his awareness grew, he started to grasp the idea of impermanence. Everything in life, he saw, was constantly changing. His emotions, his relationships, his experiences, his daughter; all of them came and went like passing cars on a busy highway. Where once he felt frustrated by loss and change, he now began to accept them as natural. This realization allowed him to let go of his attachments to things, people, and outcomes. He no longer needed everything to go his way in order to feel at peace.

He came to understand and realize that his daughter would not stay young forever; her childhood was passing by, moment by moment. Instead of fearing this truth, he embraced it, knowing that every phase of her life was precious. He wanted to show her that change was not something to be feared, but to be accepted with grace, a natural part of growing up. It was through this acceptance that he began to let go of his need to control, finding peace in the flow of life.

This led him to the concept of non-attachment. He understood now that much of his suffering came from holding onto things that were never meant to last. By loosening his grip, he felt a new sense of freedom. He could still love, still care deeply, but without the need to control or possess. In releasing his attachments, he found that he suffered less, and joy could flow more freely into his life.

Learning the lesson of non-attachment, he understood that his role as her father was to guide his daughter, not to cling to her. One day she would grow, spread her wings, and explore the world on her own. Rather than holding on tightly, he wanted to love her fully while giving her the space to become whoever she was meant to be. This shift brought him peace, knowing that love didn’t mean possession; it meant support and freedom.

Along the way, he discovered the power of compassion. He realized that he had been harsh with himself for years, setting impossible standards and punishing himself when he fell short. But as he was kinder toward himself, he found it easier to extend kindness to others. The more compassionate he became, the more connected he felt to the world around him, especially with his daughter. He began to see the pain in others’ lives, recognizing that everyone was struggling in their own way, and his heart opened. Compassion became a guiding principle in how he parented. When his daughter struggled or made mistakes, he responded with kindness and understanding, knowing that these were part of her growth.

But the most profound shift came when he began to question the very nature of the self. He had spent his life building an identity; his career, his achievements, the image he projected to the world. Yet through his journey, he realized that this self he had constructed was fluid, ever-changing. His ego was not a fixed thing, but rather a collection of thoughts, experiences, and beliefs that shifted over time. By letting go of the rigid idea of who he thought he was, he opened himself to growth and transformation. Through this transformation, he wanted to teach his daughter that she wasn’t confined to the labels society might place on her. Like him, she is also fluid, always growing and changing. By understanding this, his daughter could remain open to new possibilities and not be burdened by the expectations of others.

The man also realized that suffering was an inevitable part of life, for both him and his daughter. It was not something to be avoided or denied but rather something to be understood. Suffering was a part of the human experience, but by confronting its causes; desire, attachment, and ignorance; he could learn to live with greater peace. This understanding didn’t mean his life would be without pain, but it gave him tools to face suffering with grace and resilience. He hoped to show his daughter that suffering was not something to avoid, but something to confront with courage, knowing that it, too, could lead to growth.

Through meditation, the man found a daily practice that grounded him. His daily practice of meditation became a cornerstone of his journey. Each morning, before his daughter woke up, he would sit in stillness, finding peace in the quiet moments before the day began. In the stillness, he learned to quiet the noise of the world and listen to the deeper truths within himself. Meditation became his refuge, a place where he could reconnect with his breath, his mind, and his heart. It was here, in this quiet practice, that the answers he sought began to emerge; not from outside of him, but from within, and it was a gift he hoped to pass down to his daughter one day. He imagined sitting beside her as she learned to steady her mind and connect with her inner self, teaching her how to find calm in the midst of life’s uncertainties.

His journey was not about reaching some distant enlightenment, but rather learning to walk through life with more clarity, compassion, and presence. His journey was also about becoming a better father. He didn’t seek enlightenment for himself alone; he wanted to live in a way that would inspire his daughter. He learned that the answers he found were not just for him, but for her as well, so that one day she, too, could walk a path of mindfulness, compassion, and inner peace. His greatest hope was that, when the time came, he could pass down the wisdom he had gained, showing her that the key to happiness was not in the things they accumulated, but in how they learned to live, love, and let go.

The man’s path through Buddhism showed him that the answers he sought were not in achieving or accumulating, but in letting go, in being present, and in cultivating peace within himself. And so, with each day, he continued on this path; not toward a destination, but into a deeper understanding of life as it unfolded around him and his daughter. He had found his answers, not in what he gained, but in how he continues to learn to be.

Amituofo.

–

Today, I release what no longer holds me;
I release those who have drifted away,
and those who stir doubts in my heart.

Today, I choose happiness. I step away from the shadows of toxicity, freeing myself from the burdens I’ve carried far too long. I offer myself the love I so easily give to others, and in that love, I stop the quiet hurt within.

I follow the path of positivity, no longer sinking in the well of my own sorrow. I open my heart wide, letting down the walls I’ve built to protect what’s inside. I accept my flaws and let them shape my growth.

Today, I chose healing. I forgive myself for the times I stumbled.
Today, I step forward with courage.
Today, I walked away from places I have outgrown.
Today, I cherish the gift of my own time.
Today, I chose love for myself.

—Sincerely, Boris

There is a delicate art in facing fear. In the quiet spaces of my mind, I have often grappled with those deep-seated anxieties; the ones that linger beyond the obvious, like my childhood fear of heights, spiders, or bees. But fear, I’ve come to understand, is not simply an instinctual response; it is an illusion that seeks to disrupt our natural course, distorting reality and filling it with false limitations.

As I reflect on my personal fears, like the fear of disappointing those I love, the fear of being alone, or even the inevitable reality of death, I realize that these emotions, though real, are often exaggerated by a part of me that clings to control. They take root in uncertainty, feeding on the unknown, and that’s where they derive their power. Yet, the key to overcoming these fears lies not in fighting them directly, but in acknowledging them and seeing them for what they are; illusions designed to keep me from my personal growth.

Fear of failure, of not living up to expectations, can be paralyzing. It has, at times, made me doubt my ability to be a good father or to navigate the complexities of relationships. But what I’ve learned is that fear does not define me. It may attempt to impose narratives about inadequacy or isolation, but these stories are not truths; they are interpretations. I do not have to live by them.

The first step is recognizing when fear begins to speak. In those moments, instead of letting it drive my actions, I can choose to stand firm in my understanding of self. Fear may try to whisper that I am alone, or that I might not be enough for those I hold dear, but I now realize that these whispers are merely echoes of past insecurities. They are not the voice of my reality.

To truly cast out fear, I must strip away its falsehoods, stand grounded in my values, and recognize my strength, not in spite of fear, but because I have faced it. By dismantling the illusion, I can step forward confidently, knowing that while fear may exist, it holds no dominion over my choices, my identity, or my future.

In this understanding, I reclaim a more profound sense of peace. Fear is simply a shadow. And while it may darken parts of my journey, it can never overcome the light of my inner strength unless I let it. The power lies within me to confront fear, not with force, but with clarity. And in that clarity, fear begins to dissolve.

—

In the darkness where fear resides,
A whisper calls, a truth confides.
Don’t flee the shadows, don’t turn away,
Embrace the fear, let it have its say.

In uncertainty’s grip, we often freeze,
Yet within that tightness lies the key to ease.
Open your heart, let the emotion of fear flow,
In vulnerability, true courage will grow.

Fear, a teacher with lessons so profound,
In the quiet depths, strength can be found.
Befriend the fear, dance with its might,
For when the moment passes;
we will see the light.

I was born into a world of fear,
Where I grew up to hide my tears.
No steady hands to guide my way,
Only scattered paths I learned to face.
In madness, I sought to comprehend
A life that shifted without end.

I grew too fast, too much to bear,
The weight of truths placed in my care.
Yet through the bruises, I made my stand,
A way to live beyond demand.

No longer tied to what was given,
I carved a path, my own, forgiven.
It wasn’t just to survive the fall,
But to rise and live beyond it all.

Kindness starts within,
where wounds are tender.
When you heal yourself,
you’ll understand others better.

Stay present in the moments
when pain calls your name.
Don’t flee, don’t fight; just stay.
In stillness, strength is quietly gained.

Let your heart remain open,
no matter how it feels.
In the practice of courage,
your spirit gently heals.

— Sincerely, Boris

Raising a daughter has been an unparalleled journey of learning, reflection, and growth. Through the stories of others, I’ve found wisdom that resonates with the deep responsibility and profound love that comes with being a father to my beautiful daughter. One of the greatest lessons I have embraced is that fatherhood is not about control but about nurturing independence. It’s about standing alongside her as she explores the world, offering guidance when she seeks it, and always making sure she knows that my love is her safe place, no matter where life leads her.

I’ve also learned that my role is to model emotional vulnerability. To show her that strength is not in silence, but in expressing her thoughts and feelings with clarity and confidence. This is especially important in a world that often tries to diminish the emotional depth of girls, pushing them to conform to shallow expectations. I want her to understand that her feelings matter, that she is not only allowed to take up space but encouraged to do so fully and unapologetically.

Patience, too, has revealed itself as a critical virtue. I’ve realized that our time together isn’t always about monumental moments but is instead composed of the quiet, steady presence I offer her. She doesn’t need me to be perfect; she needs me to be present. In those small, everyday interactions; the mundane conversations on our walks and on the swing sets, the shared laughter over a meal or movie; our bond grows, and so does her understanding of what a loving relationship looks like.

Finally, I’ve come to appreciate that teaching her resilience is perhaps my greatest duty. Not the kind of resilience that hardens, but the kind that allows her to rise after each fall with grace and strength. I want her to know that failure is never final, that setbacks are simply stepping stones, and that her worth is never defined by the obstacles she encounters. It is in her ability to rise, to face the world with compassion for herself and others, that she will find her true power.

As a single father, I strive to be the kind of man who mirrors these values; not just for her sake but for my own growth, too. Fatherhood is not a journey with a clear destination but a continuous process of becoming. I know that as I guide her, she is guiding me, both of us evolving together in this shared, sacred relationship.

—

I once believed my strength was my own,
Built through hardship and endurance.
But in you, I’ve realized
It’s your presence that keeps me moving forward.

In your laughter, I find hope,
And in your compassion, I understand
That kindness is where real strength lies.
You may be young, but you guide me,
Teaching lessons I didn’t know I needed.

You’ve shown me how to listen,
How to stay patient, and how to nurture growth.
Your resilience is clear in every challenge you face,
You get back up without hesitation.

I’m proud of how independent you’ve become,
Of the way you meet life head-on.
Watching you grow into your own
Is the greatest gift I could have.

You’ve given me strength I never thought I’d need,
And I’m better for having you by my side.

— Sincerely, Boris

Trust begins within. It is an intimate act of self-awareness, a journey of learning to listen to the voice inside, of refining intuition until it feels like an unshakable compass. To trust others, we must first cultivate trust in ourselves; a quiet confidence that our choices, no matter how uncertain, are guided by something deeper, something true. This self-trust is the foundation upon which all other connections rest.

But trust with others is more delicate. It is earned slowly, built through small acts of consistency, vulnerability, and presence. It is fragile; a currency of the heart that requires both patience and persistence. Yet, in the blink of an eye, it can vanish. A single lie, a fleeting betrayal, or even the weight of silence can shatter what took years to nurture. Like glass, once broken, trust rarely returns to its original form. Even in the painstaking process of rebuilding, the cracks remain visible, forever altering its shape.

There is another way trust fades: the slow erosion caused by distance. In time, even without betrayal, trust can slip through our fingers, lost in the space between absence and silence. The image of the person we once trusted morphs, shifts, and no longer resembles the one we held close. Distance, both emotional and physical, can sever the bond, leaving us questioning the very foundation of what was once certain.

Trust, then, is more than a feeling; it is a sacred state of mind. It is a neural symphony, signaling when to lean in and when to step back, when to open our hearts and when to protect them. It shapes our behavior, guiding our actions like an invisible hand.

Cherish the trust you place in others as if it were a tender flame, vulnerable to even the softest breeze. Protect it, nurture it, and do not fear letting go when it no longer feels safe. Your trust is precious, a reflection of how you wish to be held in this world. Trust your instincts; they are the guardians of your soul’s deepest desires.

—

Your words once bloomed in light, sincere,
A stream of truth we both could hear.
Now they shout, of whispering cries,
Drenched in dishonesty, not afraid to lie.

You spoke with heart, each word I’ve longed,
Honesty, bold, unbroken, and strong.
But when did deceit begin to rise?
When did truth crumble beneath the lies?

The lies wear honesty’s disguise,
Sweet poison hidden in your eyes.
And with each word, you drift away;
A stranger now, who once vowed to stay.

Trust is a fragile thing to break,
A bitter pill I’ve learned to take.
Now silence lingers in its wake,
For all that’s left feels cold, and fake.

What’s left to say, when the truth is gone?
The dialogue between us now feels wrong.
So here I stand, beneath your lies,
Watching trust fading, as it dies.

— Sincerely, Boris

I’ve come to realize that the mind holds immense potential for healing, far more than we often acknowledge. Instead of searching for relief solely in external solutions, I’ve learned to turn inward, recognizing that the tools for managing pain, stress, and anxiety already exist within me. By consciously working with the mind and body, we can shift our experience of suffering and cultivate peace.

The breath is one of the most effective means of doing this. It serves as a direct link to the present, anchoring my awareness in the here and now. Through simple, controlled breathing, I can calm my nervous system and influence my subconscious mind. This process is not only about relaxation; it’s about retraining the mind to respond differently to stress and discomfort. With every mindful breath, I’ve gained a greater sense of control over my emotional and physical states.

Mindfulness is another critical practice. By observing my thoughts and emotions without immediately reacting to them, I’ve developed a new perspective on pain and stress. Rather than seeing these as threats to be resisted, I now view them as signals; indicators that something in me needs attention. Mindfulness allows me to approach these signals with curiosity and compassion, which can reduce their intensity and help me respond more thoughtfully.

In this process, meditation plays a key role. It gives me access to the deeper parts of my subconscious, where my past experiences and emotional patterns are stored. Through regular meditation, I’ve been able to reshape my responses to stress and pain, moving away from automatic reactions that increase suffering. Meditation has taught me that healing is a process of aligning the mind and body toward peace, not by force but through consistent, patient practice.

I no longer feel powerless in the face of external stressors. By focusing on my inner world; my thoughts, my breath, and my awareness; I’ve developed a sense of resilience that isn’t easily shaken by outside circumstances. Healing, I’ve learned, is an ongoing journey. Each day offers a new opportunity to practice these skills, to remind myself that while pain or anxiety may arise, I have the ability to transform how I experience them.

—

Each morning, I rise to greet the day,
Read words of wisdom, to light my way.
With visions clear, and actions aligned,
I center my soul, in peace I find.

Meditation whispers, “Be still, be strong,”
And in the silence, I belong.
Writing my truths, I set them free;
A life of growth, that belongs to me.

Afternoons slow, with a gentle breeze,
Books and thoughts, no need to please.
Turning off screens, I reclaim the hour,
In quiet moments, I find my power.

A podcast hums, a guiding sound,
New ideas grow, deep and profound.
As evening falls, I move and I breathe,
Walking the path where my heart is pleased.

With words once more, I let them flow,
A reflection of where I long to go.
In the stillness, I find my light,
And greet the peace that comes each night.

I promise to hold my routine with care,
To nourish my body, to breathe fresh air.
Move every day, let my muscles sing,
Phone set aside, to let nature ring.

Carry my camera, to capture the skies,
Saving each dollar, with mindful eyes.
Sober, present, embracing the new,
Writing forever, my heart’s truth in view.

In this journey, I grow and unfold,
A story of strength, resilience and bold.

— Sincerely, Boris

The day unfolds with a heart steeped in gratitude, stirred awake by morning meditation. The afternoon finds me beneath a willow's gentle sway, a book cradled in my hands, warmth rising from a mug beside me. As night whispers its arrival, my thoughts spill onto paper, paired with a quiet indulgence. Each moment carries the weight of intention, weaving a rhythm of mindfulness, stillness, and creativity. It’s a ritual that nourishes my spirit, cultivating inner peace, self discovery, and inspiration in its delicate balance.

–

Through meditation, we sit with what arises,
learning to stay present with our thoughts,
to breathe into the pain of our experiences.

No longer fleeing discomfort,
we meet our fears with open arms,
letting them speak, letting them go quietly.

The thoughts, the worries, the pain;
all given the mental space to exist,
but no longer bound by our need for control.

We hold them lightly,
and as we loosen our grip,
until they all begin to drift away.

In this stillness, our healing begins,
slow and unfolding,
a lifelong journey until we are reborn.

We embrace the unknown,
finding peace in the spaces in between;
holding on and letting go.

— Sincerely, Boris

All of life is calling me. The land is alive with wild blooms that adorn the hedgerows. Foxgloves mingle with campion, bluebells and buttercups. The wild dance of summer lifts my spirits as my body still aches from the recent prolonged winter she has endured. The scars still tender reminding me that healing has its own season, yet the spirit feels the tug of a new dawn.

In the early morning stillness the light softly caresses the petals of a freshly born rose and my heart is filled with the promise of new beginnings. Patience has never been an easy companion and Surrender even less so. How to let go and allow this dropping, this deep sinking into softness, into the sensual realms of flesh and bone on warm, wet grass? How to rest deeply in every moment as the wheel of life turns slowly and my fear clings to hope as she gently wipes away my tears?

Somewhere in the distance, breaking the silence, a baby lamb cries and I am reminded that I am not alone.