My cross-country skiing looks like cross-country shuffling. My ukulele playing sometimes sounds like fourth grade band room. My dancing looks like nerdy, rural, white girl.
Yet, to me my cross-country skiing feels like gliding and sometimes when it's just right for a few feet, it feels like lying. To me my ukulele playing makes me happy. I marvel when my fingers finally move smoothly over a riff, and I smile as a chord rings true. To me, my dancing feels like emergent moving impulse taking form through my body. The stuttered expression of rhythm sending shivers down my spine.
My parents are taking time to allow the person who abused me into their home. They have told me he is coming to let me know not to come over while he is there. They will let me know when he is gone. The abuse was so long ago.
Now the early morning sun is slowing rising above the edge of a passing cloud bank. The cloud filtered light shines across to the western mountains, making it appear as if the light is emerging from them rather than resting on them.
In all things, no matter what, be kind to yourself. Regardless of what you said, of the actions you took, or the hurt or harm you may have caused, be kind to yourself. Regardless of what has been done to you, be kind to yourself. Life, and the world will throw enough stones, will seek to persecute and crucify you, will punish you, and will demean you. You don’t need to add anything. So, in all things, be kind to yourself.