March 31
I don’t have to hold everything so tightly. I can hold on lightly.
March 31
There is something in me
that wants to figure it all out.
To understand.
To control.
To make sure everything goes the way it should.
And I can feel what that does.
It tightens me.
Pulls me forward.
Takes me out of the moment I’m actually in.
But when I step back
even just a little,
I remember:
I don’t have to carry it all.
I can trust myself
to meet what comes.
Not because I know exactly how it will unfold,
but because I have already lived through so much
I once thought I couldn’t.
That trust doesn’t make everything easy.
But it softens the way I hold it.
And today,
I don’t need to take myself so seriously.
I can let there be a little space.
Space to laugh.
Space to breathe.
Space to be human in all of it:
the grief,
the uncertainty,
the small, unexpected moments of light.
I don’t have to trade my sense of humor
for depth.
I can hold both.
I can start where I am,
with what I have.
And that is enough.
There is something steady in that.
And as I move through the day,
I can stay open.
Open to noticing when I am certain,
and gently questioning it.
Because what I think I know
is not always the full picture.
And when I stay curious,
when I allow myself to see differently,
I grow.
Not by forcing answers,
but by being willing to ask better questions.
I don’t need to have it all figured out.
I just need to stay present enough
to meet what is here.
And trust
that I can.
Grounding Questions
Where am I holding too tightly today?
What would it feel like to bring a little more lightness and laughter into this moment?
What belief or assumption might I be willing to question?
