The Beat

 I miss writing.  I miss recording my little fleeting thoughts so I can look back and see where I was and who I was back whenever.  But I'm feeling burdened, and so I am indulging myself in just enough of something to hold me over until my load is just a little lighter.

I'm going through a lot.  I'm finding myself having to confront my own capability, my capacity, my compassion.  Everything feels like a monumental effort, even self care, so I've tried to start this small practice where I put my hands over my heart and let myself be lost momentarily in her defiant chant:

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.