sit down + look up
I turned 39 a couple weeks ago. I had planned to share this photo waxing poetic about the year prior. Then, I just didn’t.
I’m tired of forcing. So tired, in fact, I hope to be hanging that hat up for good.
What I’ve been asking is this —
What feels like home?
What is needed now?
And what supports my breath, my nervous system, my heart?
But also how I can I be more spacious, allowing and less slice-and-dice, black-and-white, in my judgments of others and mostly myself?
I’ve returned to writing. Mostly for me, for now. I’ve returned to deep thoughtwork. Scribbling in a notebook and beginning to untangle my mind (and heart) a bit. Mostly for me, but I hope it will be felt.
And as I look at the rings on my tree, I celebrate all these phases. So many expansive, so many cringey, all as they were meant to be and unfold.
Just over here, putting one foot in front of the other. Reminding myself to sit down often and look up more.
