Seems that right now, we have a whole lot more questions than answers.
About much. Which somehow, can make us want to cling more desperately to answers, or the possibility of answers. For me, the soothing path is to lean softly into the small things I know: the crispy leaves under my bare feet, what’s in my fridge, the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen, my option to write or pick up a paint brush. Not in avoidance, but as a way to re-source, to balance. Doing so gives me reserves. Having reserves allows me to more safely go visit the place of Many More Questions Than Answers.
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