From the storm, a way through.
Not borrowed wisdom. These are lived things, bled through, practiced, and carried.
When life forced me to slow down.
Grief. Panic attacks. A chest that felt heavy and a mind louder than the world. Silence became a room I was afraid to enter.
The season of chaosThen I found the breath.
Not the thoughts that calm down first. The breath does. When it became steady, the storm did not disappear, but I stopped being thrown by every wave.
The doorwayAnd little by little, I rose.
Gratitude when life felt empty. Strength spoken before I believed it. Forgiveness so I could stop leaking my life energy. A sky that reminded me I was held.
The becoming