With a quiet mind and equally quiet breath you can hear the stir of a once-resting heart. It’s gentle, like the involuntary twitches of a sleeping babe.
I’ve been startled with the quiet lately, for I’ve been so resistant to stillness, so afraid to stop; but Little Miss Busy Brain has bowed so graciously out of my present—which comes with its own set of fears and uncertainties—to allow my body to rest and rid.
Soon the purging of things will be complete enough to step back into the glittering, dew-drenched clearing of possibility, where Little Miss Busy Brain will remain dormant, and Lady Wolf will howl again.
—this post was grown on the gram.