if july
If July was the month
when everything happened,
I just hope you know this:
it doesn't make you weak
to feel it all again.
I hope you know
it's okay if it takes time
to figure out
how sunlight
will shine on this.
I hope you know you are free
to move through this space
without perfect words
for how you feel.
I hope you know that with or without
the closure,
you are still worthy
of the journey
to heal.
Be kind to yourself
when it all catches up to you.
May the very room you're in
become a breathing room.
May the sound
of your next exhale
be the sound of a small ocean wave
finally reaching the edge of the sea.
And after you let that exhale go,
just let it be, for there will be
many more waves after.
May the space you're creating right here
pave the way for future chapters.
—
And what is this next chapter
going to look like?
I can't tell you that I know,
but if it's anything
like the last ones,
there might just be room to grow.
And not just in a garden-sense,
where there are flowers to bloom and gaze upon
but also, in the ocean-sense,
where expansiveness
goes on and on and on.
I know that not being able to make sense of it all is tiring,
trying to hold it all in the human hand or mind,
and I know it is hard to be patient when you're all too aware
that the clocks are running out of time,
but I can tell you this:
even though this journey has stretched you,
and ran your strength to its edge
you are still free to pause, rest
and heal as you
meander your way through all of this.
Wherever you can,
(especially around the borders of the forest),
slow down and listen for the ocean sounds.
However long you can,
let yourself roam free
without worry of making "sense"
of everything.
You will brush up against the longing
to push past the uncertainty again and again
but from the forest, to the garden,
to sea, you will also brush up to horizon line
where morning light shines in.
Let the warmth of the sunlight remind you:
you will encounter different kinds of growth
in ways you may never even expect.
Let this remind you to breathe deep
on winding paths as they whisper:
you haven't encountered all that is beautiful yet.
-MHN
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