excerpts from my journal entry today:
I kicked the wall of sand and a large portion of it shifted, sliding down as a whole, although it was comprised of many tiny particles. The part that slid was not where I kicked.
I find it challenging to relax my body and give the earth all of my weight. But every time I feel my muscles tense, I release them. Every time I do it, I am helping. Despite how futile it might seem, every second I am mindful, I am kind to myself.
As I walked back, a small, perfect, pink rock presented itself to me. It matches my new (used) pink sweatshirt. I feel beautiful in these clothes, but I'm the only one to share that with, and that's okay with me.
I hear a small crackling noise behind me and to my right. I turn around and see a wing in the sand. I stare at it for a little while, feeling neutral, but curious. The wind reanimates its otherwise lifeless feathers.
I am aware of how small I am and my fingers are cold, now.
When I look in the mirror
I see something I haven't seen in a while:
A girl who is proud of herself
Knowing how hard it is to handle
The things she never imagined she'd have to go through
As she was growing up.
I smile and give myself a high five
