He visited me in my dreams and the moment I saw him I knew, I'm not healed. And it's okay.
I guess the magic comes from the unknown of how is he, what's it's like on the other side and how life turned of for him. It comes from the laughter and sentimental movies, words and greeting cards.
"Nostalgia, it's delicate but potent. In Greek, "nostalgia" literally means "the pain from an old wound." It's a twinge from your heart far more powerful than memory alone - a feeling from a place we ache to go again."
Is it time to put the summer breeze into a box of goods and leave it there to settle? Place the box to the highest self and be ready for an autumn breeze? Is it time?
Acceptance is achievable, but is letting go also?
It's strange to be stuck... because I never know if it is still a fresh wound or just an aching memory of the paper cut.
I woke up this morning with tons of confusion yet a happiness in my heart. Rolling up the curtains, seeing how the cold autumn is petting the leaves and feeling how the morning sun is following me with my stretches.
I've created a habit of putting my phone on an airplane mode when I'm sleeping and I'm unlocking it only after my morning routine (doing yoga, getting ready, having breakfast and so on). This "trick" is making me more present and I'm starting to realise again the value of real time.
Last night I created myself a monthly journal which I fulfil in the mornings and in the evenings before going to sleep. The diary is about taking time for yourself, finding happiness and creativity, and being grateful of the day ahead and behind. If it leads me on a good path... then you all can get a simple pdf copy of it.