Waking up at 9 after a long day of travel, feelings inside begin to stir. Panic. Fear. Worry. What will this be? Where will the journey take me?
I don’t know how to “just be” very well, and “just being me” is foreign, so “just being me” in a group of 90 is ~ well ~ terrifying!
I look out the window of my room to see beautiful yellow sunshine streaming through the trees. Patches of brilliant fall blue peek through their branches. Voices chatter. People scurry about purposefully.
My mind races.
What will I do today?
What will I wear?
Did I bring the right clothes?
Does it matter?
Growth scares me. Will this week bring more? Or will it bring the pruning that preceeds the growth? Will my mind quiet? Begin to engage the present?
Will I stop feeling inadequate?
Like the Outsider?
And begin to belong?
And begin to be okay if I start to feel ok?
Is this necessary?
Maybe it’snot necessary, but it’s certainly a gift. And maybe it IS necessary, and I should receive it as it is given.
One day at a time.
One hour at a time.
One minute at a time.
One breath at a time.
Heartbeat by heartbeat.