It’s a secret language and I’m fitting the pieces of the puzzle together. I move the fabric around and it slides into place. I read it with my body, not my mind. I don’t know what it says, just that it says what I want to say. I don’t know why, I just know when it’s right. So many pieces to choose from. How do I pick the ones that I do? It only makes sense in terms of me trusting myself and acting on it.
You thought you had it all figured out then one day you go to the dentist and you can’t stop crying. You were made to feel so bad about yourself, you’re sure it’s your fault. Then you put the pieces together and they tell you something different. It’s all slightly off. Out of balance. Off kilter. Out of whack. It begins to make sense. And you create something beautiful.