This is my me-time for the week.
And after a week of constant talk and engagement with my baby, or someone else’s baby, I just want quiet with my coffee.
I am tired of words.
I am tired of thinking.
Of figuring things out.
I am tired of other people.
I am probably tired of myself.
And it’s times like these that the artist re-emerges in me. My hands that play, move, sculpt, paint, and express – that tell more than I often even know to tell – without my having to do very much else at all.
Because sometimes silence and stillness are everything. They are where we find everything that matters all over again.
Where do I come from, and where am I going?
What the hell am I doing here?
And do these things themselves even matter?
And what a relief to be able to ask without having to answer.
New mum, old soul... Finding beauty, wisdom, spirituality, and opportunities for learning in the everyday (hopefully)...