Many weeks, I have more blog posts than I have days to write them. The ideas bloom on the hydrangea bush of my brain.
Some weeks, the calm surface of the river of my brain hides many currents swirling beneath.
These past few days, my brain has felt more like a field of rocks, all similar, nothing beckoning me to linger long.
I look into the monotones of my thought, just in case some life would appear.
I stack the stones into a form that says, "We were here." I want to see what my brain does with that cairn.
you’re perfect just the way you are
4 months ago