sleeping deerThis poem feels about as healing as one of Old Sally’s potions in Temple Secrets. Or one of Aunt Sadie’s elixirs in The Secret Sense of Wildflower. See what you think.

The Cure for It All
by Julia Fehrenbacher

Go gently today, don’t hurry
or think about the next thing. Walk
with the quiet trees, can you believe
how brave they are—how kind? Model your life
after theirs. Blow kisses
at yourself in the mirror

especially when
you think you’ve messed up. Forgive
yourself for not meeting your unreasonable
expectations. You are human, not
God—don’t be so arrogant.

Praise fresh air
clean water, good dogs. Spin
something from joy. Open
a window, even if
it’s cold outside. Sit. Close
your eyes. Breathe. Allow

the river
of it all to pulse
through eyelashes
fingertips, bare toes. Breathe in
breathe out. Breathe until

you feel
your bigness, until the sun
rises in your veins. Breathe
until you stop needing
anything
to be different.

Every time we take a deep breath we come home to ourselves. Deep breathing also tells our brain that no saber-toothed tigers lurk. No danger. No pandemics. All is well.

Do you have a favorite line? Mine is: ‘blow kisses at yourself in the mirror especially when you feel you’ve messed up.’ Shall we vow to do that at least twice today and four times tomorrow? How might our lives change if we were consistently gentle and playful with ourselves?

Stay steady. Breathe deeply.

Love,
Susan


Read the previous dispatch here.

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