‘What have you been up to?’ I’m asked on repeat. ‘Becoming more like moss.’ I answer in my head.
But, instead of detailing on how I’m doing everything in my power to remain soft, vibrant, nutrient-dense, and full of life so I can provide a haven to those and that around me…
I say, ‘I’m thinking of going back to school.’ Or, ‘I’m doing freelance work, it’s been great.’
Truths and untruths folded into a buttery layer of, ‘I’m scared you wouldn’t understand.’
How brave would it be? To admit that tenderness is where your arrow is pointed. To breathe fully into your truth, no matter who looked onwards.
Lately, malaise reigns supreme.
And I crave so deeply a soft forest floor, covered in moss. My face pressed into the earth, breathing in.
The antidote and my answer.
