Reflection of the body of a woman: I keep leaving my body, leaving the moment, leaving my heart, my home, my peace. Why? Compulsion, distraction, the disorientation of “should” the projection and questions of future ring like a siren beckoning (my internal) sailors to crash among the rocks. I disqualify myself, invalidating my life because why? It isn’t shiny enough any more? Because I don’t party with celebrities any more? Because I’m not on vacation drinking with all my friends? Because I now spend my afternoons half naked, skin to skin with my daughter while she sleeps... It’s so easy to forget-I created life with this body. I breathed for her, my heart beat in time with hers, I nourished her as she grew inside of me and birthed her safely into this world. I am her world right now. I am her whole world, how is that not worthy? How is it that culture so easily invalidates this most sacred work? Beyond that, living/growing/loving/breathing/being is a worthy enough thing. I breath the words of #thichnhathanh “My body is my first home. Breathing in I arrive in my body, breathing out I am home”