Sometimes we're starving for it.
Time alone.
With ourselves.
With our partner.
With our thoughts.
We hunger for a break.
For a breath.
For silence.
We're desperate to remember who we were.
Before.
Who was I before?
We wrestle.
We grieve.
We struggle.
And then somehow, through grace, we let go.
We journey from resistance to surrender and let it all fall away.
From pushing and fighting what is, from trying to claw our way back into what was,
to peacefully laying back into today - eyes closed and smiling, heart filled with gratitude.
This.
Only this.
We become.
We grow.
We embrace.
We allow.
We find peace in acceptance and our life blooms as we embrace today.
Surrender.
Presence.
This.
Just this.
We fall in love with the messy here-and-now and that dull hunger for something else subsides.
And they grow.
Always they grow.
And each day we're blessed to bear witness.
And soon they, too, dream of a journey all their own.
And then they venture out into the world.
Without us.
Even if for a moment.
And that breath that we once hungered for so desperately falls silently upon us.
And suddently everything is new again.
And we try to recall what it felt like before.
And then we remember:
Surrender.
Always surrender.
Because again
and still
there is only this.
Ever-changing, ever perfect this.