I'm f*cking overwhelmed. There's not really a prettier way to put it.
There’s so much happening, now. It's all blooming--my garden is damp with lush magnolias, honeysuckle, blood red roses and all the seeds I planted last season. It's all beautiful, it's the amazing sh*t that I have wanted since forever. Getting closer to my master's degree, diving deep into mysticism, a new love, workshops to teach, a book of poetry. And I'm grateful. So grateful.
I worked for it all.
But my lap is so full that there are moments I feel stretched thin and want to cry, perhaps crumbling into pieces that would crash onto the cool tile of my kitchen floor.
And I am scared to even admit this, because it feels like we never really talk about how overwhelming beautiful things can be. That would be complaining, right? But maybe it's just honesty. Because it's not just pain that can feel like 'too much' but it's beauty, love, vivacious life, laughter, too. Anything can feel overwhelming, and that's okay. We just have to know how to navigate this…