I feel more grounded lately, more welcoming of the ebb and flow.
The past eleven months felt as though I’d been tossed into the ocean amid a record-breaking-storm, flung from my ship before I realized I’d been ejected. Mid-air, I remembered that I had silenced my ship’s radio, annoyed by the chatter on prior calm days: because of this, I had no forewarning that everything would happen at once.
For eleven months, I observed my life like that far-away ship, frantically treading as heavy, metallic waves surged and crashed against the structure that once held me safe. I wasn’t drowning, but I wasn’t sure if I could make it back to call for help.
Today, I stepped back on board. I turned the radio’s volume all the way up. With solid structure now beneath my feet, I will begin to navigate out of this storm.
Will I go back to shore, or stay sailing among the seas? I believe the ebb and flow holds the answer.
Let happiness win 