Somedays I feel more complete.
Other days, it is more of a continuous unraveling.
I am forever grateful for the rebound.
It eventually comes.
It always comes, even when I believe it never will.
Through the clouds of exhaustion and self doubt I start to believe it will always be like this.
I am doomed, I say.
Wait, she says. The deeper wiser part of me within.
And then there is the flood of relief, or maybe it starts with a trickle before it flows.
I find freedom in the expression. In the movement. In the asking. In the offering. In the surrender. In not being concerned with what others are thinking.
It is a messy and beautiful process.