Small but sturdy shoots
Good Friday. Grieving all the deaths. Feeling attachments burn and peel away. To money & scarcity, perfectionism & competition, self-reliance, to a fear of intimacy I have carried since my childhood, my divorce, my assault. All these, crying out, as they crumble in me.
And what will Easter bring? Already art & spirituality, sweetness, tropical foods and music, big dreams and big voice have begun to emerge. It feels good, long awaited. There’s breath in it... a spark, even, thru the fog. // Are there small but sturdy shoots growing through your carnage, too? I’d love to write with you this weekend. #writingprompts #art #resurrection