I have struggled a little with how to spend my days.
As my old habits fall away making room for new ones, I am still figuring out what they should be.
I spend a lot of time outside.
I walk in the forest, I pick up trash from the streets.
I write a lot of poetry. It gives me an expression for my inner world which seems quiet while building momentum.
I feel like a bubble about to pop.
I realize how this is me tasting the deliciousness of “the small things”. Spending a whole day just moving from my bed to the kitchen for a cup of tea, sitting on the patio looking at the trees blowing in the wind, having another cup of tea, baking cookies, doing laundry with my mother.
A few months ago I was here and I was crazy! Yet now I see how I took my time opening my eyes. Now I do nothing, and that is enough for me to be happy. Which only tells me this nothing is about to transform.
Feeling like a bubble just about to pop.