Continuous thanks

For February I wasn’t compelled to blog. It would’ve been forced for sure and I wasn’t feeling that. My pacing has been off, I’ve been sick, and otherwise overextended, so I haven’t wanted to. I had a distressing dream about my mother a few nights ago, but that didn’t find me the words either. The musings haven’t left me. They just haven’t pushed my pen to paper, or more specifically, moved my fingers to vigorously tap the app. Good thing I wrote to her offline at the start of last month on her birthday. My therapist reminded me how spiritually soothing that can be. She was right. So I didn’t blog. But now the recent successive deaths in my close network, even the collegial one I just learned of this afternoon (some expected and mostly unexpected) are finally prompting me. They’ve certainly shocked and hurt, pushing me to great sympathy and reflection. They’ve reminded me of my losses and to never plan on tomorrow. How to make now count instead. As my birthday has passed, I’m aware. Perhaps even hyper-alert of how important it is to connect to myself whenever I can without qualms or delay. No cop-outs. I’m also compelled to stillness and quiet. To give no fucks about frivolous things like money, business plans, conflicts, self-imposed stuntin’ deadlines and what if’s. I’m blessed to breathe and mostly auto-function. I’m in my body, whole mind and this world. Thus, I don’t get to loathe myself in the mirror and doubt my present state. I get to be. I get to thank myself and all that’s around me. The fire in me. Free myself. Honor me. I, like the people who have recently gone on to join our ancestors, am loved. That’s worth typing about, however brief.