I'm writing today because I need to. Because I want to. Because if I don't write something today I feel like I might drop into silence for another few months. I am grateful for the people, books, and situations in my life that are making me a more loving person. Some days it is very difficult to accept that this is my work, that all friction and pain is for my benefit and growth. There are some days that I just want to cry, some days that I do, and some days that I just want someone stronger to give me a hug and say I'm doing a good job.
When I read the paragraph above I recognize the girl that is sharing, she is me. She is much younger, but still me. I am finally beginning to see and process the stories that I pushed away from my past. Funny how what hurt me when I was a child is still what hurts me today. Even though I should look back through the eyes of an adult, there are certain things that send me spiraling back into the past, to my daybed with the farm animal comforter where I see me curled up in tears. Things that scared me then I find at the root of what scares me today. What I know about that little girl is that she makes it, the very things that hurt that small version of me don't hold her back from living. In fact, every tear that falls is met with compassion from the Universe and from me.