This little affirmation of sorts was gracefully published here at Soul Anatomy. Thanks for reading (from all my heart).

Image from Soul Anatomy

I believe in the long drawn out breath after a good cry. I believe in the ritual that is drinking coffee (decaf, cold brew, french press, drip--the style and flavor irrelevant). I believe in throwing out the scales and going by how you feel; if you like the way your clothes fit then that is simply enough. I believe in not leaving your apartment for an entire day because it's quite possibly as restorative as anything else could be, every now and then. I believe in the written word--penmanship. I believe in saving every letter someone has ever written me, a piece of them kept in a box. I believe in therapy, good therapy and with the right person (you will find him or her if that is what you desire). I believe that what you seek is seeking you. I believe in selling everything I own and taking two suitcases across the world. I believe I will do this in my lifetime. I believe in serving and how it throws you in the muck and makes you a strong, hard worker; one that could handle any other job because this is probably the hardest one you will ever have. I believe some secrets should be kept closer, while others need to be caught and released back into the abyss that is the universe (or, to said therapist). I believe in writing because it will always help me to understand what the verbal usage of words do not. I believe in reading a piece from the arsenal of my favorite writers at least once a day because it nourishes me as much as deep breathing. I believe in good men--men who are good at the core of their person; loving, kind, and invested. I believe in good women, and people in general, too. I believe in cheap sushi, despite possible illness. I believe in not eating mammals or their produce--even though I do occasionally engage in it myself more than I'd like to. I believe in the revisiting of the gnawing feelings that ask to be felt, seen, and heard, again, and again. I believe in forgiveness and compassion--the hand I press to my heart each day, my lips whispering, "It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."