Leora recalls the day her heart stood still and she was rescued by her one and only son, who happened to just be there and was able to save her life! It was nearly seven years ago and since then she was wearing some sort of pacemaker, she would like to call herself a peacemaker. Although she had an iron heart, resilient through past lives and heartbreaks, betrayals and losses, it suddenly betrayed her that day. It was like a motor from a car, spinning too hard and then suddenly lay flat. She was thinking of the long and lonesome road of recovery and in the evenings she usually felt the cold stillness within, a pause that rippled through her body and mind like a silence where only she could hear a needle falling from heaven with a sudden noise, on her wooden floor.

In those seconds, time seemed to stretch. Her memories flooded her mind: the faces of those she’d loved and lost, friends who’d once been like family, and the lovers who had taught her about love and left wounds she thought would never heal. She remembered the lonely nights and endless days when hope was a mere flicker, barely visible against the shadows of pain and isolation.

She thought of moments of resilience though, times she had found her way through dark paths by sheer will, small acts of grace, a terrifying black humor only few appreciated and her inner strength. But this time she sensed it was different. She felt facing her own mortality, her own vulnerability and mostly, her own fears. As she was drinking a coffee and smoking a blunt, Leora felt something stirring deep within her—something unsettling, from some hidden place in her own soul. ‘She’d been granted more time, but why? And for what?’, she asked herself once more. Although she didn’t really enjoy living life as it was, she knew this ‘extra time’ wasn’t to be taken lightly. It was, in a way, a second chance, a divine whisper that there was still something important to be done, still something waiting for her, worthwhile waiting and living for. As if she knew she was not meant to leave without a trace, as if she had lived another life for nothing, besides learning more lessons. 

She realized that this experience was more than a close encounter to death.    It was an awakening. It was as though she had been handed a burning candle in a pitch-dark room and could finally see the path that lay ahead, a path she felt compelled to walk. A quiet voice within, urged her to create, to sing and and cycle on her bike on her daily exploring adventures in the country. 

In her own way, she was beginning to rebuild her connection to others, even if only through these letters, she never sent. With every word, she felt a small part of her soul healing, a reminder that compassion wasn’t only a gift she could give away, but it was also something she had received, not merely by being born, in the structure of her genes and blood of her ancestors, but as something she felt as a little divine spark she had to hide away deep inside, so others couldn’t see it, nor ever steal it or take it away from her. 

As she was reflecting on her incredible life, where she had travelled around the world, just by meeting all different kinds of people in her own little hometown, she was worried about the future and the state of the world she was living in. She felt a pressing need to express her ideas and visions for others to read, since she knew these given dreams for tomorrow were not for her to keep for herself alone. Inspired by her quiet bond with her ginger cat Boris and her connection to nature in general, she just had to share her deep love for humanity, since she felt there was no other way to connect to her outer world or to reach out to others. Although she lives in a so-called ‘free country’ with freedom of speech and all, she actually felt like she was living in the ‘last days of freedom”, where the government and politicians, money and lost values could no longer save the world, nor herself. As her son grew up in a declining world with hardly any perspective of better days to come, living under the ongoing thread of worldwide wars, poverty, sickness and misery, she decides to write a series of letters to her son and to the future generations. 

It is only for Boris, her steady, wise, and sometimes cheeky companion cat, who encourages her to speak her truth, even if it’s difficult, she finally decides to write these ‘Letters for Tomorrow’.

Chapter 1. Letter of Compassion

Dear Tomorrow,

“In a world that often forgets the beauty of kindness, remember that compassion is strength. You may be taught that power comes from status or wealth, but true power lies in understanding and caring for one another. It may be easier to build walls, but life will surprise you with the bridges you’ll need, one day. Let kindness be your quiet courage. The smallest act of compassion can change a life, just as a single light can dispel darkness.“

Leora feels a sense of calm and purpose. She chuckles, imagining the calm but no-nonsense reply Boris might give if he could speak. His gaze feels almost knowing, and she realizes her friend Boris and the other animals she’s loved over the years, have always shown her a deeper way to connect—with simplicity, loyalty, and presence.

With Boris by her side, it feels as if he’s helping her convey the importance of kindness. She remembers the small acts of compassion her animal friends have shown her over the years—each one a reminder that empathy crosses beyond words, beyond gestures, races or even so-called ‘other species’ than humans. 

As night falls, Leora contemplates about the letters she will write, one might even call it a manifesto, she would like to create for a world in need of healing. The task feels both daunting and liberating. She senses that her words may only reach a few, or perhaps many, but that their purpose isn’t to change the world overnight. Instead, her letters will be seeds of love and peace and empathy, small reminders that we are all capable of living with kindness and courage since we are all family by heart. Soul sisters and soul brothers, who have fathers and mothers, who are children themselves, growing up. We all have grandparents and ancestors and we are all living beings living on the same earth, underneath the same moon, sun and stars, breathing the same air and drinking the same water. We all share the fire in our hearts, the same light in our selves of a Greater Spirit, or Energy, we use to call the Element Ether, but nowadays we mostly see it through wires for electricity or energy as in Internet or Artificial Intelligence. The Element Fire is somehow widely misunderstood as being only fiercely flames, but the element of fire means so much more: it means warmth and power, light and energy and it also stands for a little flame, visible in the form of burning candle or invisible as divine sparkle that will keep you going, as much as it can stands for a simple light bulb in a lamp or an invisible lamp above your head, whenever you have a brilliant idea. 

Leora is talking to Boris, who sits next to her on her table, looking to the other side, as if he doesn’t even notice her, but by the twisting of his left ear, she knows he is listening: ‘Maybe my life wasn’t meant to be as beautiful as I once dreamed. Maybe I’m here to do something simple but true’. ‘Maybe I should be more like Boris, just observing and then just be here, in the presence, not worrying about the past or tomorrow, not caring about what others have to say, just minding my own life’, she then thought to herself. Then Boris turns around and gives her a stroke with his little head against her cheek, reminding her that she is not alone in this world and showing her he’s grateful for not being the only cat in the house.

Her letters to write are feeling like a heartfelt legacy, a gentle rebellion against a world hardened by indifference, and an invitation for future generations to live with more compassion. This combination of a ‘higher call’ and her own reflections, the warmth of her friends and animal companions she meets along the way is giving her the courage to look forward to tomorrow and to keep on writing new letters.

Chapter 2. Letter of re-connction

Living in a small village, Leora has learned to weave light into the everyday shadows. Some say she has a special gift for dispelling clouds, others believe it’s only her smile that brings warmth to the cold. Every morning, she starts her day the same way. With her old broom she sweeps the wooden floor, in her little house, because she cannot stand the vacuum cleaner and now she imagines with each sweep that she’s sweeping away something else too—worries, sadness, and other things that clutter her head. As the broom glides over the floor, the morning sunlight spills through her window and dances over her ginger cat, Boris, who purrs and watches with approval.

In the quiet aftermath of life, Leora retreats to a slower, more mindful life, rediscovering strength through nature, daily routines, and her animal companions. With every bike ride and every little walk around the block, she finds peace and reconnection. Leora’s days begin to take on a quiet rhythm as she adjusts to life with her pacemaker. At first, her every movement feels tentative, as if her body itself is learning to trust ages, daily adjustments to a life changed—measuring her strength, navigating around the boundaries of her energy, and finding what truly sustains her. 

Biking becomes both her therapy and her meditation, a time to breathe, observe, and rediscover herself. Leora’s rides are taking her further each day, guiding her through fields of tall, whispering grass, past groves of trees swaying with the wind, and along narrow trails where birds dart overhead and sometimes she could see wild goose, a rabbit or even some deer’s. Nature welcomed her back to her own inner peace, with a silent embrace, showing her that even when she had lost so many things in life, she still had herself, her own power and talents to hold on to. Showing her she didn’t need to look outside for finding inner strength or peace, and therefore she felt at home, wherever she went.

Alongside the comforting familiarity of these sights, she was reminded of the fragility of all life—the way every plant, animal, and moment has its place, its purpose, but none lasts forever. It struck her that the beauty of nature is not in its permanence, but in its constant renewal, it is quiet strength in the face of change.As she pedals along, Leora starts to reflect on what “value” truly meant for her. The past brushes of death had left her with a new understanding of life’s brevity and the things that hold genuine worth. She realizes that the world often mistakes wealth for value, glamor for beauty, busyness for purpose. But here, among the trees and streams, she saw that real value is woven into the fabric of simplicity. It is in kindness, it is in the sunlight breaking through leaves, it’s in breathing deeply, being present, and loving without expectation. It’s leaning back into the consciousness or sudden awareness that all that she needs, lies within.

As she stepped out of the house, in the backyard, Leora held her coffee mug close, its warmth a small comfort as she looked out over the quiet garden. Her small house, tucked neatly on the edge of the village, was her shelter from the world she once felt part of, but had grown distant from. A gentle breeze nudged the branches of the chestnut tree in her yard and a robin bird flitted between the leaves, singing its simple song. Still, she could feel the world’s troubles could reach her easily. The headlines she’d seen that morning—climate catastrophes, economic instability, war—echoed in her mind, stirring a deep frustration and helplessness. How could the world, this beautiful, precious world, be slipping away from her, as surely as her own life and youth?

Dear Tomorrow,

I’m writing you today about something quiet, something often mistaken for softness or even weakness. But I have come to understand that compassion is one of the rarest, bravest qualities in the world. We are taught, almost by habit, to build walls to protect ourselves, to show only our strength. But I believe there’s a courage in kindness that goes unnoticed, uncelebrated.

It may seem easier to keep yourself guarded, to hide behind small acts of unkindness or detachment. But what happens when life suddenly needs you to be vulnerable, when you’re asked to cross those walls to find others? The world will surprise you with the bridges you’ll one day need, with the connections you’ll come to cherish.

So, dear Tomorrow, I wish for kindness to be my quiet courage. Let compassion remind me that the strongest hearts are the open ones, the ones willing to feel deeply and let others in. Maybe then, we can all create a world together, where each of us feels a little less alone.

Yours,
Leora