An Accidental "Sabbatical" and Majesty

Plus my holiday wishes for you.

Leavenworth, WA

I missed two weeks.

Not on purpose. Just happened. One week bled into the next and I didn’t write and honestly? It felt good.

My creative soul needed the break. I missed you, yes. But I needed the quiet more.

And now I’m back with a single word I can’t stop thinking about: majesty.

Not the royal kind. The other kind. The Oxford definition is “impressive stateliness, dignity, or beauty,” but that doesn’t quite capture what I mean.

Last weekend I beheld beauty so striking it left me speechless. I didn’t take a photo. I just stood there, mouth open, heart full, completely and utterly arrested by what was in front of me.

Majesty. That’s the only word that fits.

And it made me wonder: what if majesty is already here, waiting to be noticed? Not manufactured or sought after or earned through effort, just present, asking to be seen.

These were taken, mostly, through Luis's "Huji" app, which he loves, and I... don't, because it adds a nostalgic "vintage disposable-film look, complete with a fictional date stamp." So these weren't taken in the 90s.

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This holiday season, I’m curious: where might you find it?

Not the smart-phone-clamoring moments. The other ones. The ones that make you stop walking. That fill your chest before your mind catches up. That reminds you the world contains more beauty than you remembered.

Or majesty might be quiet. It might be small. It might be so ordinary you almost miss it.

But it’s there. Asking to be witnessed.

Where might majesty be right in front of you, simply asking to be seen? Where can you be captured by the dignity of the moment?

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Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Merry Whatever YOU Celebrate (even if it is just a regular ol’ Thursday).

I’m grateful for you.

-Alex

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About Alex

I’m Alex Lovell — political psychologist, yoga therapist, and writer.

Lived homeless. Been divorced. Survived a seven-car pileup with a semi. Fell in love with questions that don’t have easy answers. I’ve met a lot of thresholds. Even the one before death.

These days, I split my time between research, writing, and holding space for people figuring out who they are after everything shifted.

This Substack is where I make sense of things out loud.
I write for people in transition — between roles, beliefs, relationships, selves.
The ones quietly wondering, “What now?” but allergic to one-size-fits-all answers.

Sometimes I quote research. Sometimes I quote my own nervous system.
One speaks in data, the other in sensation. I’ve stopped choosing sides.

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