Here is what I want to say today, to myself. Maybe you need to hear it too.

It’s okay to rest. To put down the pen, the book, the planner, the constant desire to find value in the doing, and lie down for a moment.

It’s okay to acknowledge your fear of missing out, then shut the computer down anyway, knowing that you can’t catch it all.

It’s okay to stop listening to the whirl of the outside world and turn inward to the whispers of your soul. You know how much you need it, how the air clears and the dust settles when you do.

It’s okay to slow down, to find your own rhythm, to stop and touch stillness.

It’s more than okay. It’s when magic happens.

Rest, sweet baby, rest.

Photo inspired by Vivienne McMaster‘s Be Your Own Beloved e-course. Hand stamped locket by Liz Lamoreux.

Something has shaken loose in the last few days. Something I’d packaged neatly and put away on a internal shelf, covering it with a semi-gloss veneer of meditation, deep breathing and distraction. I feel like a new foal, standing for the first time, all awkward limbs and wobbly knees.

I was trying to figure it out. Was it my diet? A lack of sleep? The fact that I ran out of Vitamin D supplements last week?

Tonight I lay in bed with Ada as she tossed and turned, struggling to find rest, and realized it was time to stop my own struggle to fix myself and to find stillness and surrender in the discomfort.

I remembered that shedding old skin involves a period of feeling raw, that I don’t have to have all the answers, and that I can love myself even when I fall short of my expectations.

Sometimes I am grumpy. Occasionally I lose my patience. Once in a while I need a nap.

It turns out I’m still human.

If you’re looking for me the rest of this week, I’ll be the one wrapped in warm, comfy clothes, eating soup, drinking tea, going to bed early and finding laughter and gratitude wherever I can. And I’ll be looking into my own eyes with love.

P.S. The incredible Vivienne McMaster  has been running a series on her blog the last several years called 14 Days of Self-Love, from February 1st through the 14th. I’m feeling delighted (and vulnerable) to be contributing today’s story. You can find it here. Treat yourself to all of the beauty by starting here.

Today as I danced, the woman behind me sobbed, grieving the husband who died last week, and I realized I’ve become less comfortable with my own public tears.

Today as I danced, I touched the spirits of ancestors and children waiting to be born.

Today as I danced I felt my power, my softness, my ache.

Today, I danced.

Grateful.

Alive.