Overwhelmed. Overwhelmed that I am here. Writing, self meditating, filling a void that has only been creeping up on the thoughts I assumed were long gone. It’s the good kind of overwhelmed. Quietly overwhelmed. And this is okay. It’s not dramatic and it’s not quite heart wrenching. I can still breathe.
I’m overwhelmed that the people around me are inexplicably tolerant and loving of my flaws and needs, though different to their's they remain justified - simply because I feel them.
And when your dearest friend sits across from you in a small coffee shop and tells you how envious she is of the life you lead, driving, photographing views she only sees from her window, believe her. She’s exploring too, seeing different things and learning. And she is happy. And she lives surrounded by light and love, and she knows it. Yet part of her still longs for what you have, she still believes it to be tangible.
There is a lesson in this. Be open to it.
Perhaps everything that has just happened is an invitation to a new adventure.
All adventure requires is curiosity. And curiosity, I have in abundance.