Good morning, my lovelies.
I give up.
I give up my need to be perfect.
I give up my desire to deliver perfectly-wrapped presents to you.
I give up my fear of being judged by you. I love you, but I am me, and what you think of me matters little in that.
I give up my need for control and closure. This journey you’ve chosen to take with me is windy and sometimes dark. On that,
I give up my fear of the dark. Only with it can the brilliance of light be seen and known.
I give up treadmill of “consistent” for the path of honesty. On that,
I give up trying to make honest pretty.
I give up trepidation of the future. I shall simply walk.
I give up the whip. I work best with and in the midst of love, from you, for you, for myself.
Thank you to each of you who, in the last few weeks, has held me as I cried, hugged me when I didn’t, and gave such a look of empathy and love as I tried to be blithe about the struggles.
This is and shall be messy. But it will be the joyful sort of messy, as though we are all having a lovely night of finger painting, eating with our hands, and puddle splashing.
And it will be together. Thank you for that.