The What

Small moments have been my biggest teachers as of late

What my body knows.

I went for a walk the other day and felt an intense sense of unease halfway through my time outside. Usually, walking brings me peace so the tension I felt gnawed at me. It gnawed until I decided to cut my outing short. Not knowing why. I’ll probably never know what my body was trying to tell me at that moment, but I listened anyway. I listened without needing an explanation or a tangible reason. It made me think of the times I refused to listen to what my bones knew. The times I pushed through, even when my heart wasn’t in it. When my mind whispered no. The times my stomach folded itself in protest. The body knows all the things we try to hide from ourselves. The things not discoverable to the naked eye. The knowing without actually knowing. Intuition, discernment. Those unconscious feelings lead me to believe that all things are working together, my mind, my body, God. I must learn to put more trust in the three.

What lives?

I was cleaning up a while ago, it was an intentional type of cleansing. The kind where you get the urge to usher in newness, so you toss things that you've been holding on to for one reason or another. Icepacks I received in a gifted box full of perishable goods. Old kitchen towels that were tattered from use. A dying plant, this particular plant was given to me by my ex. It had begun to wilt. I had been not so unconsciously neglecting this plant. So I wasn’t surprised seeing the browning leaves. I guess in the back of my mind it felt cathartic to let it die, along with the relationship. As I went to place the plant in the trash can, I began to think about what lives on after. After an ending. Be it the end of a job, a friendship, or the completion of anything that once was great but now no longer serves us. Surely everything does not need to go once we decide to move on from certain situations in life. Some of the knowledge acquired can be beneficial to how we’ll pave the way ahead. In short, the death of a thing does not need to lead to the death of many. So I’ll keep the version of myself I found, the new sense of direction and focus. My redefined (more clarified) definition of love. And the plant, which I decided to water and put in indirect sunlight. It no longer wilts and the color is returning to its leaves. I’ve decided to let those things live on and celebrate the new beginning in every ending.

Until next time,