It’s strange what one day can do.

What one writing session can offer.

How it can create peace in the soul.

The memory softened today, and I was quick to name the lesson:

you mattered, you don’t need to leave fast, I don’t need to forget you.

I can integrate you.

I take the lesson forward.

Conversations with one of my soul team today renewed a spark — the knowing that there is someone out there who can hold me, my depth, my way of seeing. That someone is walking their own path right now, preparing, readying themselves to meet me.

Today feels like a quiet, gentle sigh.

I choose myself.

For now and always.

I give thanks to those who were present with me today. The reminders came through clearly: don’t try to do the thing — just do it. The mind can be your worst enemy. It will convince you that you can’t, that you’re not capable. Those are inherited narratives, learned stories, passed down or picked up along the way.

The work isn’t to fight them.

It’s to acknowledge them.

Thank them for their intention — to keep you safe — and then rewrite them. Follow the feeling.

Feelings can’t really be translated into words. Language isn’t adequate for what happens on an emotional, chemical, biological level. And there’s beauty in that. The world isn’t only here to be explained or named. It’s here to be felt. To move. To move you toward embodiment.

Not everything needs a label. The moment you name something, you place it in a box. You confine it. I’m beginning to see how things can remain fluid. How leaving things unnamed gives them less weight in the body, less grip on the soul.

Leave things unnamed.

You’re not an addict.

You’re not lazy.

You’re not incapable.

Just go and fucking do.