How do you change with the seasons? she says in a quiet moment of the coworking space. How are you like the present? I see the slow, deliberate moves of my limbs, feel the quiet, steady beat of blood in my veins, wonder at how much stillness one racing life can offer. It is not like me to be this calm in the face of an entire life to live, an entire life rushing towards its inevitable end, too soon whenever it may come.
But it is January. Awake, but perhaps I hibernate. Alive, but perhaps I am resting, gathering strength, perhaps every month does not have to look like the last, the sun still rises in winter only later, only slower. I see things more clearly in the silence. Take a breath.
Step up.
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