It's eleven in the morning and I'm still in my pjs. My second chapter is finished. This is nice. It's not the main thing or everything, but it's nice. (The not being dressed part not included.)
Even nicer, though, is sunshine. I will attempt to greet the day outside, soon, in proper apparel.
It's interesting that the events I'm memoiring about all started exactly four years ago today. This morning I mused regarding how my life is different. Much has changed. Much has been lost. There was a lot to grieve over. This includes so much ego on my part.
To be humbled is...well, not fun. But the word itself denotes a caring way and means of turning. Unlike being chastised, or disciplined, or accosted. Being humbled happens due to the reality of sacrifice. Of love. Of what is deeply existing. It's really, truly good for the soul. Especially the prideful one, mine.
Even nicer, though, is sunshine. I will attempt to greet the day outside, soon, in proper apparel.
It's interesting that the events I'm memoiring about all started exactly four years ago today. This morning I mused regarding how my life is different. Much has changed. Much has been lost. There was a lot to grieve over. This includes so much ego on my part.
To be humbled is...well, not fun. But the word itself denotes a caring way and means of turning. Unlike being chastised, or disciplined, or accosted. Being humbled happens due to the reality of sacrifice. Of love. Of what is deeply existing. It's really, truly good for the soul. Especially the prideful one, mine.