I was taught that the only things that are real are those that can be measured by instruments. Nowhere was I taught to sense energy.

This good feeling is healing energy bumping up against my nostrils and inviting me to steer this energy towards my heart.

My preoccupation with the past and the future holds regrets and worries. Life's led me to self-care modalities that have enhanced my life.

Her hair hung below her waist bumping at the back of her knees when she walked. So much of her perceived identity was in her hair.

My tears were profound. The feelings, the depression. I slowly threw the journal pages and gifts into the fire, one piece at a time.