Real, with some pulse. Written from the middle of a real, ongoing life.
A list I keep adding to. Saying no without a reason. Going to bed at 9:30. Choosing soft over impressive. The list is not the point. The permission is.
Read the storyOn the afternoons that do not go well, I do not journal or meditate or try to figure it out. I open a coloring page. I pick one color. I let twenty minutes pass.
Read the storyYou do not run out of love in a long marriage. You run out of questions. Here is what I wish someone had told me in the long, quiet stretch.
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