Innocence

What is innocence, if not the unguarded gaze of the soul before it learns to protect itself?

Before the world teaches distortion—before judgment carves its lines—there is a purity not of naivety, but of presence.

This is the realm of Innocence.

In this piece, I return to a state untouched by expectation. A space where nothing needs to be earned, defended, or defined. Where life simply is—raw, vulnerable, and immeasurably whole.

Innocence asks: What if truth is not something we learn, but something we remember? What if the essence of who we are has never been lost—only buried beneath layers of forgetting?

This work does not speak in loud declarations—it whispers in the language of stillness. It offers no conclusions, only a mirror. And in that mirror, a question:

Can you see yourself without the story?

Like morning dew evaporating under sunlight, Innocence reveals the subtle beauty that arises when we release the need to control, to define, to resist. It is the space before becoming, the breath before identity, the open field of the unconditioned heart.

There is strength in this softness. There is knowing in this simplicity.

And maybe—just maybe—what we call enlightenment is nothing more than a return. A return to the innocence that never left us, but waited patiently to be felt again