The beauty of breathing

I was thinking on my writing about leaves. How my perspective shifts and why.

Easily the message of the leaf is a simple message of beauty.

Crowded by grief beauty can feel painful.

Was it grief though.

Or was it that another was trampling my boundaries. There was no room for me.

In the end I needed to say no with my action, words were ineffective.

Words seemed kinder, but only for him not for me. And maybe not for him either.

I was thinking on love bubbles. How creating a beautiful life can suddenly shift when one finds oneself stuck in the bubble and not freed and bolstered by it.

I said no.

I was weary and let myself rest.

There were no more endless reach outs. I woke feeling like I could breath again. Feeling my edges back.

Thinking on leaves in a different way. Taking in beauty without the desperation of question.

Quiet and simple

Thinking on saying yes to myself and what that looks and feels like.

Quiet and simple

Thinking on delicate beech leaves, dry and brittle, still on the branch. The beautiful sound they make when rustled by a breeze. The beautiful dance of this.

Quiet and simple

The beauty of breathing