It breaks my heart when I see kind, gentle, beautiful souls questioning their worth, what they do in the world, and if it’s enough.

We all walk different paths, at different speeds, with different soul purposes. I honour them all even when they are not mine to walk.

People struggle in multiple and invisible ways that no one knows about except those they’re closest to (and sometimes not even then). Including me.

At the very worst of my depression in my 20s I was known for having the biggest and best smile. The day after I was assaulted in my 30s I still went out and danced with friends even though I was breaking inside.

I had to start seeing the world differently.

I had to go out on walks and find beauty in a flower. It saved my life. I had to take care. I still do.

Recovery of any kind is a lifetime job, and I must be ever vigilant with where I put my energy and attention. And only I know what is best for me.

Compassion is everything to me. And compassion comes from an understanding that, while we cannot know what another is going through.

We can hold each other (and ourselves) with the most amount of generosity, forgiveness, and caring that we possibly can.


 

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