There is a Japanese word that has been with me these days: wabi-sabi. The beauty of the imperfect, of the incomplete, of what is alive and therefore changes.
In session, many people arrive with the feeling that they should be doing more. Trying harder. Healing faster. And there is a deep tenderness in reminding them that the body and the soul have their own rhythm, and that rhythm is not negotiable.
Today I did nothing productive. I read, I walked, I watched the clouds. And it was the most fertile day of the week.