to make more happiness: repeat

something happened after my mom died: i couldn’t get words out. it felt strange and terrible. i was used to making words appear as readily as my lungs brought breath to my mouth. without words, it seemed i’d forgotten how to breathe. but i wasn’t dead. i hadn’t actually forgotten how to breathe. i had just forgotten how good it felt to take a deep belly breath in, to let it out, nice and slowly, and do it again and again and... Read More