A work in progress

Picture yourself when you were five. In fact, dig out a photo of little you at that time and tape it to your mirror. How would you treat her, love her, feed her? How would you nurture her if you were the mother of little you? I bet you would protect her fiercely while giving her space to spread her itty-bitty wings. She’d get naps, healthy food, imagination time, and adventures into the wild. If playground bullies hurt her feelings, you’d hug her tears away and give her perspective. When tantrums or meltdowns turned her into a poltergeist, you’d demand a loving time-out in the naughty chair. From this day forward I want you to extend that same compassion to your adult self.

Other people are going to find healing in your wounds.

It is never too late to be what you might have been.

When a flower doesn’t bloom you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.

May flowers grow in the saddest parts of you.

Today I will do something just for the fun of it. I will find something to do that’s just for me, and I won’t worry about what I “should” be doing. I will learn how to make myself feel good and enjoy life to the fullest.

Wherever you go, go with all your heart.