Quarantine has brought the love of writing back into my life. So here is another inner monologue.
It can be easy to pretend you’re thriving. I’m okay to admit I’m just surviving. My definition of safety was an illusion. What makes us truly safe? Is it a home? Possessions? A job? A partnership? The rules society put in place for us to follow? An identity within ourselves?
What happens when that safety fails? What is left to support you? When you fall, where do you land?
Beyond our cars, homes, possessions, people, structure, health…what if we knew deep down that we are safe and supported? Would we feel more complete? Could we stop fixing, worrying, planning? Could we just be? What safety would we find within ourselves?
Maybe it’s time to find out.