when it returns, so will I

everyday, there’s a new layer of letting go.
we drop a few heavy leaves
just to wake up to new sprouting buds,

it’s painfully poetic.
(everything, if you let yourself feel it.)

---

- tell me where we go from here -
Home is somewhere new these days and its quiet. too quiet.
I forgot just how much I prefer the silence. Everything feels lighter - and I love how the wind blowing through my East facing window matches my current softness.
I want to feel despair, like the leaves that have all fallen off their trees,
but it feels unfair to take on anymore sadness. Haven’t we felt it long enough?

Nothing scares me anymore. Not unexpecting news - or the state of the world. It’s all (mostly) out of my control and anything I have to hold too tightly, with too much anxiety, was never meant for me anyway. The only thing I can do is:
- get out of bed each rising day. dose myself with raw honey. make the bed, then make myself. give it my very best. make someone new smile. remind someone familiar, we’re in this together,
just because we go home alone, doesn’t mean we’re without.
I’m here. and you’re still here - and that is a Miracle we must celebrate!

There is still magic in the sadness.
I am grateful for a heart that feels too deeply, for its own good.. really.

Everything is falling apart, just like we feared it would.
but did we ever stop and think
all this breaking
is for something Bigger? something Better?

What if we calmed our hearts - trusted the crushing weight
let it hold us like a weighted blanket…

I saw the sun rise this morning,
it felt like fate.

There are more spicy days ahead of us now, then there was before..
Why don’t you sit still long enough to see all the warmth arrive.

For when it returns, I hope you will, too.