Happy March 😊

For a long time, I was stuck in the storm. Grieving isn’t a linear process; it's a muddy path. Some days, you make progress, and other days, you’re just spinning your wheels in the same slick, cold clay. You carry your grief like a heavy coat, and sometimes, you forget you can even take it off.

But this March, I decided to start my own march. I decided to make a little collage of small promises I’ve made to myself.

There’s a note about consistently getting therapy. There’s a reminder to find solace in nature. My piece of earth from an old slave plantation. There’s a vow to start connecting with my old friends again, the ones I haven’t talked to in years. And there’s a mustard seed. That one is my favorite. It’s a simple act of faith that something new can grow, even after the ground has been frozen solid.

The path ahead of me may still be muddy. My feet might get wet. But I am walking away from the dark, and towards the light.

March, with its unpredictable weather and its tentative green buds, is the ultimate reminder that new beginnings aren't always pretty or easy. They're often messy. The important part isn't how clean your boots are when you arrive; it's that you keep going.

I’m moving. I’m feeling the sun on my face, and I’m letting that sunlight remind me that even the biggest storms eventually run out of rain.

Happy March.