"The thought finds the word."
Robert Frost
Sitting in front of the fireplace my sinuses try to adjust to the 57 degree weather that dropped to 21 degrees blessing us with snow. The weather is so much like life itself. It is predicted, but often falls short of calculations displayed on the map.
As I stare into the flames, my thoughts get jammed together and my anxiety grows. With pen in hand, I begin to scratch across the page allowing the jumble in my head to shift into words. The sentences stretch into paragraphs and I begin to feel release.
The fire warms my face and my words comfort my heart. I am no longer top heavy by undefined feelings held captive in my head. Inner balance slowly spreads body, mind, and soul. All things can be a mirror to us if we just catch a glimpse of the reflection. It is within the pause of understanding that absolution can be found.
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