A Different Kind Of Fog

My head feels foggy.

Not foggy in a bad way.

Not grief.

Not pain, anger, or rage.

Not confusion.

A different kind of fog.

The kind that settles in after you’ve worked hard.

After you’ve carried heavy things for a very long time.

A fog that says:

You are capable.

Strong. Grateful.

Worthy. Loved.

Beautiful. Powerful.

Special.

It feels almost ethereal.

Like a springtime dream painted in hazy colors and soft light. Sunshine. Warmth. Warm water. Long hugs. Strong arms. A full heart. Words of affirmation that actually mean something when they land.

I’ve been sitting in this fog, feeling like I needed to fix it. Needed to force motivation. Needed to think everything through and get back into motion.

But my body and brain are telling me otherwise.

So instead, I’m letting it wash over me.

Letting it soak into me.

Letting myself feel all the good swirling around inside my head and finally putting it onto paper. Helping it move.

Helping it flow.

Letting the energy move through my body as I slowly step out of my head and back into life.

It is such an incredible place to be.

Especially because there was a time when moments like this felt completely different. Times when stillness was filled with painful emotions, self-hatred for being human and needing rest, a lack of internal safety, a lack of self-worth, and long-running thought patterns that were hurtful instead of helpful.

But this moment is different.

This moment feels like a beautiful haze.

And instead of fighting it, I’m enjoying the magic of it.

Knowing that everything I endured — and all the work I’ve done to create meaning and myself out of it — was worth it.

Knowing the sunny days and happily ever-afters will continue to come.

Knowing I am worthy.

Knowing that I am free.

Knowing that I am me.