"I close my eyes, turn inward, and breathe until I can sense the still, small space inside me that is the same as the stillness in you and in the trees, and in all things. I breathe until I can feel this space expand and fill me. Then...I smile at the wonder of it all."
I read something the other day that struck me with the energy of a lightning bolt. Terry Tempest Williams wrote an essay about discovering her mother's journals [diaries] after she'd passed away only to discover they were blank.
I don't want my legacy to be empty pages.
If I am the only one who can be held responsible for filling them - Then perhaps, I ought to write. Yes?
That's all for today.