Who do you donate to when there’s a coup?
I planned to write about meditation today
Three years of it, every day
Instead, I find myself forcing silence
For a minute on the couch
Just breathe
And then eat bread
And get lost for a moment, or an hour
In something that isn’t the piling emails
Or the news feed
Remember to drink water
Remember to get some sleep
I say, while my dehydration creeps
And my brain will work hard to keep up awake
Focus on your breath
Where do you feel it in your body
Three whole years of it
Every day
But it helps
Even when it feels like it doesn’t
In one day it’s a small miracle
Ice on my eyelashes
January morning runs
Lucky
And then my jaw aches
From talking
And dealing
And handling one thing after another
Until I swear it was supposed to be the weekend by now
So I can catch my breath
But then I catch up with the news instead
How was this allowed to happen?
(we know, but it’s still so terrible)
End with a small miracle
Stuffed croque monsieur focaccia
With ricotta and swiss
Or the quiet way Arthur curls up on my chest
So you can pretend it’s enough
Send yourself to bed
Stop pretending again in the morning
With Love,
Natalie