The parts of you that are fading are like dry skin cells sloughing off in the shower. Something you once carried, the tiny particles of who you were but are no longer are racing towards the sucking swirl of the drain.

Let them go.

They served you then, but you are stepping into now… and now… and now. They can’t keep up, just like the scattered leaves left behind by the wind of a fast car around a tight bend to somewhere better.

You are better today than you were yesterday, and your body is preparing you for tomorrow if only you’ll allow it.

Allow it.

Say yes, and the rest will follow, like Alice through the looking glass. It is time for an adventure. Grab your rain boots and ford the next river you come upon. Make it to the other side, hell or high water — hell, float if you have to — just get there.

And when you get there, belly crawl your way up the muddy bank to the top of the hill before you collapse from exhaustion. Look once in the direction you came from and give thanks, then face the sun and fall asleep, knowing you will awaken to a new day and a new life, and everything will be different because you are different from one moment to the next. You are born anew with each dawn and dusk, with each inhale and long sigh out.

Breathe into the newness of tomorrow. You are unwrapping the mystery of your life one day at a time. You are living the mystery of your life from one moment to the next. You are living your life.

You are living.

You are.

Credits

Original photo by Kevin Malmgren (embellishments by me).

Music is …And at the Hour of Death by Víkingur Ólafsson.

This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit rachaelmaier.substack.com