This week, this poem hits close to home.
I’m reminded that there are no training wheels for living,
no instruction manual, no life vest for the ebb and pull of life.
And then, without warning, something small interrupts the weight.
Sunshine. The smell of rain. Laughter. A kiss that arrives without asking.
You are part of the tide, I have to remind myself.
And there is something quietly beautiful about that—
to be made for movement, to be here for a time such as this.
No one else can do you better than you. No one carries the stride of your walk as you do. No one shines quite like you do. What one person may be labeled as a ruby, you are recognized as gold, baby.
If this week has been heavy, remind yourself: you were not an accident of timing.
You. Were. Made. For. A. Time. Such. As. This.
At least, that is what I am still learning to tell myself.