It feels like


It feels like when the heavy thunderstorm eases into a gentle shower, but you're afraid to say "the storm has passed" lest it hear you and unleash its downpour and thunder all over again.

It feels like when you've been holding your corner of the world together for so long and finally someone is there to hold you.

It feels like the clarity that comes after the fever breaks, like the discernment your eyes take on after a long time away from home. How suddenly you can see everything that no longer fits, how you want to purge it all (like, yesterday) but the vision and the gap are so overwhelming you keep needing to take breaks and lie down.

It feels like holding all you've done before gently, even though your heart has traveled miles and years in the interim. Like wanting to burn it all to the ground but knowing it may still have purpose and service to offer some.

It feels like a compounding of endings, not just of a project but of something greater. The milieu that brought you to now (in this version, in this very moment) is unraveling and leaving you in the great uncertainty where it first found you.

It feels like coming out of hiding and knowing there's no going back, not really, but also knowing you need to rest and regroup before diving all-in to whatever comes next.

I miss you. Tell me what it feels like in your world, right now.