I don’t like a pile of prompts. It starts to feel like homework.
What I like is one question, said out loud, while the tea is still warm. Polish is noticing what already drains you — often something you never really chose. Bloom is a smaller move toward the life you actually mean. That’s all.
I keep five. I never ask them all in one evening. If you were at a table with me, we’d pick one and let the room do the rest. If you weren’t, you can still sit with them later. On a walk. In the kitchen. When the house is finally quiet.
Defaults. What in your days quietly takes energy, that you never chose? If that got easier, what would you actually want more of?
Time. If someone only saw your last month, what would they think you care about? What would you move this week, even a little, toward the life you mean?
Decline. What are you allowed to not do — and still haven’t said no to? What one boundary would your future self thank you for?
Noise. Where are you answering something loud, instead of something true? What helps you keep a quiet center when everything is pulling?
And the one I come back to, when the room is ready: What are you afraid of losing, that nobody is asking about? What is worth preserving — in this season, not in general?
You don’t have to write to me. You don’t have to fill anything in. If a question stays with you, that’s enough. Ask it of someone you trust. Or keep it until the next time we sit down.