I can see the squirrels jumping from the tree as I take my place on the edge of our back deck, coffee in hand and mind buzzing from this place to that.
I think about this place and that.
I think about how different I feel.
About how it might not be a difference that anyone sees, but it’s there, regardless of whether not I can explain it. Difference that have me wanting to learn new things, take chances, and be bold while also thinking through moments I would have otherwise overlooked. To not rush it, force it, or suppress. To not ignore. To not create a story before I listen. Really listen.
This is when it’s so important to trust yourself. To challenge those thoughts that might be telling you to stay quiet. To forgive if something just doesn’t feel right and you need to let it go. To hold yourself accountable while also understanding that you’re human and part of this experience is making those mistakes that feel impossibly big and terribly daunting to move through.
To trust in yourself enough to know that you are doing a really incredible job. Not perfect (never perfect) but incredible.
Whether that means changing course, staying focused, letting go, listening, observing, or being there for those you love (including yourself).
To be open to learning new things. To all that curiosity has to offer, even when the rest of your world feels weighted and narrowed, closing you off to all things hopeful and light.
I have a feeling that this month is going to be busy and fast paced. Is going to challenge you to take a look at what you want. Of what makes your heart lift and mind buzz in anticipation for what’s to come. Learning something new is never easy, sometimes even painful, but as soon as we trust ourselves enough to know that how we learn is going to look and feel different from the person next to us and that’s ok, amazing things happen.
Get curious with how you learn.
Be open to new experiences, even if small.
And above all, believe that you are and always have been, capable of incredible things.
Curiosity slips in with the light
From the window,
the blue light slips in—
There’s a dog, sleeping just below.
He stirs but does not wake.
And with a slight gesture,
a book, weighted and worn, is devoured.
Before long, the only thing left at the bottom of the coffee mug
is a curiosity,
found only at the doorstep of day.