Jill from Los Angeles came to us with a single word she had been holding onto.

סֶלָה
Selah

A word that appears in biblical texts without a clear definition. Its meaning is debated, but one of the ways it is often understood is as a pause. A moment to stop, to breathe, to take in what has just been said.

For Jill, this was not abstract.

She was going through a difficult period, a messy divorce, and the weight of verbal and financial abuse. At the same time, she was trying to create space for her children, trying to stay steady for them while everything around her felt unstable. The word Selah became something she could return to. A reminder that even in the middle of all of this, she needed to pause, to remember to breathe, to create a moment of stillness for herself.

She described the ocean as the place where that pause becomes possible. The sand, the rhythm of the waves, the feeling of exhaling fully. She wanted the letters themselves to carry that motion.

The piece stayed with the simplicity of the word, but allowed the forms to soften. The lines move gently, almost as if they are being carried by water. Not a literal wave, but something that holds that same rhythm.

Placed on the arm, the piece sits where it can be seen in small, everyday moments.

For Jill, Selah became more than a word. It became a practice. A way of reminding herself that even in the middle of difficulty, there is space to pause, to breathe, and to begin again from there.