I’m sitting, listening to some wind chimes, though I don’t think it’s mine I hear. There are some crows, letting everyone know they are there, and that something might be up. Food, perhaps, or a cat. I can hear the wind too, and not just from the chimes, but that soft whistling sound. I smell dinner, and know where each of my children are within the house. My breath is soft, and rhythmic. I’m present in this moment.
Until I’m not, and memories wash over me. The trials of the day, the failures that made it a difficult day. I try to simply take note, I’ve been over them 1000 times, and know what I’ll do to approach things differently tomorrow. I try not to dwell, but that’s a bad habit I’ve yet to break.
The stirring of shadows- this is not the time to address it, not on top of the other things I’m addressing, but maybe it is a sign that the time to is coming.
All I do know is, thinking between breaths, is that I should breathe. I should be gentle with myself. Forgiving myself is the first step to letting the pain go. We serve no one beating ourselves up. It is much better to stop, breath, and move on, with the knowledge that things sometimes hurt, sometimes we mess up, but we hold the power to learn, and grow and in that way, we serve ourselves better.