it’s not at all easy to open yourself up— to your own self-reflection, to God, to others. to let down your guard, to inch open the door, to break through the defenses, to let another person see you and speak to you and share with you… it takes work. real, hard work.
it’s easy to go through the days on autopilot, waking up and working and eating and mostly just going through the motions without real thought or intention. lately, i’ve been trying to disrupt that.
it’s been ages since i’ve written just to write here. i’ve shared lists and reviews and products, but have I honestly shared my heart? not so much.
In a season of depression that has most often felt dark and heavy, it's been hard to celebrate the light when it shines.
i've been craving the feeling of bare feet on soft green grass. i've been wanting to plunge my hands into big pots of cool soil, wanting to break it up between my fingers and be reminded i came from dust like this and i'll return to dust like this someday too.
there's something about roots, and something about wings. there's something about adventure, and something about contentment. there's something about there, and still so much about here.
the tension is everywhere. i'm unsure what to do with it. but we must start somewhere, and so I am starting here.
I've learned little by little that the anxiety does not have to win.
i've been learning a lot lately about how i handle things. expectations, feelings, awkwardness, growth, friendships.