The war part is over for me.

So I will be.

By the time the monkeys were up, my dear friend’s dedicated rustle of her Mala invited me to move to heat the water.

I pray. I walk in the moss. I pour warmth over simple ingredients. Repeat.

Sometimes before my feet hit the ground, and sometimes on my lunch break…no matter where I find the space…it’s one of my most sacred personal practices to take 10 selfish breaths.

I still love the canvas that softened butter willingly offers. It provides an opportunity for me to check in - consider my feelings, and my wants and needs.