That familiar pang of sadness visits me again today.  Punching me in my chest, like it so often does.  Feelings of loss, of grief, of guilt, and of fear strike me all at once.

And in this space I suddenly forget who I am.  I struggle to breathe.  I suddenly find my feet wanting to move, but, this time, I stay.

I stay because I’ve unlearned the conditioning to flee.  I have unlearned the temptation to distract.  I get a glimpse of the truth in my gut, and I remember.  I remember that this too will pass.  Just let it be seen.

I realise that this is not who I am, but what I feel.  I remember that what I feel comes from my thinking, but not only that – I remember mostly that I can hold this space for myself.

I can feel what I feel.  I can sit with it, embracing it like a favourite warm blanket, letting it wash over me as I sit with my much loved matcha latte, staring out of the window into the rain.

I sit here for what can seem like hours, but this time it’s minutes, and all of a sudden I feel lighter.  I let all of it wash over me; my depths of despair cleansing my body, rolling over me, dissipating. Renewing hope and faith.

And, in the midst of it all, rises up a more familiar feeling, these days; a wisdom.  The truth resurfaces.  That which is truly me – the space of connection and love; an energy which feels different but is one and the same.  Life, moving through me.

All of a sudden, just as quickly as it arrived, it drops away – and I can breathe once more.