You Don't Have to Carry It All Today

Wherever you are right now, let your shoulders drop away from your ears, and notice the solid ground holding you up. Good morning, baby. Last time we met, we wrapped ourselves up in that soft blanket of grace, choosing to put down perfection. Today, sitting out here with the steam rising off my coffee mug, I've been thinking about the quiet, steady strength in simply doing enough.

You don't have to carry it all before breakfast. Hmm-mm-mm… Take a slow breath in, filling your chest easy, without straining. And let it go. Another gentle breath in through the nose, cool and quiet. And out, long and warm, like an evening breeze through an open window screen. There is nothing to chase right now. Mm-hm. Let your breath find its own rhythm, slow and unhurried.

Bring your attention down into the weight of your body resting on the chair, or the bed, or the floor beneath you. Feel how faithfully it holds you, without you having to push back. Unclench your jaw. Let the skin around your eyes smooth out. Soft. Down in the choir loft, when someone gets nervous about hitting a high note, they tighten their throat, and the whole song pinches shut.

But the minute they soften, the sound just rolls right out, clear and sweet. Let your hands unclench in your lap. Fingers curling loose, open to receive whatever comes, and open to release whatever isn't yours to keep. Down through your back, your hips, your legs, feel every tight thread unspooling. Rest here. Right beneath all the running, beneath the endless list of things you think you ought to be doing, there is a deep, undisturbed quiet.

Mm-hm. Sit with that a minute, baby. The world tells you that your worth is tied to how tired you are, how fast you run, how much you can fix before sundown. But it's telling you wrong. Here's what that means if you're the one carrying everyone else's troubles: you are allowed to put the burden down. Your best in this tender hour is plenty.

Doing enough is an act of COURAGE, not defeat. There is no prize waiting for the person who burns themselves out trying to carry tomorrow today. Just this breath. Just this heart, beating steady and true in your chest. You are completely held, right here in the quiet. Hmm-mm-mm… When you feel ready, bring a tiny bit of movement back to your fingers.

Notice the air on your skin, and the sounds of the morning waking up around your house. Take one final, soft breath in, filling up with peace. And let it out slow. Here is the only thought I want you to tuck into your pocket as you stand up today: what you gave to this moment is enough, and WHO you are right now is enough. Go on, now, and let the day meet you kind.