Sometimes we believe we need to go very far to find what we are looking for. But the forest — the real one — is not somewhere else. It is in the breath we take when we stop clenching our shoulders. In the pause between one thought and another.
Today, after the session with M., I stayed in silence for a while before writing my notes. The sun came in obliquely through the window, right over the dried flowers on my table. And I thought: this is the accompaniment process. Not fixing what is broken. But remembering what is intact.
May you have a day of true pauses.