May You Trust This Time

Hey.

You.

When the commotion comes, sit.

When it’s too much, breathe.

Like a tree, find your roots . . . what holds you . . . here.

Feel your breath in your body.

Let your body breathe this breath.

Now this one.

May you trust this time.

May you walk your path.

May every strategy you try have love and hope in it.

May you come to understand what hurts.

May you come to understand what heals.

Let go of that which makes you small and afraid.

Soften.

See all that you do, all that you are, with the greatest of tenderness.

Embrace whatever arises as if you were comforting a child.

Hey.

It’s okay.

You are okay.

In the darkest of times, may you find what shines—in yourself and in others.

Then, may you let it all go, just for this breath in. For this breath out.

Remember, you are stronger than you think you are, stronger than you feel right now.

Remember, you will blossom. If not this season, then the next.

Be still.

Breathe.

It might take some time.

Cast the good seeds onto the back of the wind.

See where your next takes you.

Find the wild.

Kneel before what is holy.

Open.

And whisper yes to Mystery.

Hey.

You.

Everything beautiful is on its way.