Come Back to Yourself

When the tide inside you rises,

and the moon seems too close,

when your thoughts scatter like leaves

and your heart forgets its rhythm—

Pause.

Not because you are weak,

but because even the tallest trees

grow still enough

to feel the earth beneath them.

Place a hand upon your chest.

Another upon your belly.

Here you are.

Not in yesterday’s worry.

Not in tomorrow’s demand.

Here.

The body is wise,

though sometimes it speaks

in waves instead of words,

in tears instead of language,

in weariness instead of certainty.

Let it speak.

You do not need to fix every feeling.

You do not need to carry every burden.

You do not need to bloom in every season.

The river does not apologize for changing.

The moon does not ask permission to wax and wane.

The ocean does not question its tides.

And neither must you.

Breathe in—slow as dawn.

Breathe out—soft as dusk.

Feel your feet.

Feel the ground.

Feel the steady pulse of life

moving beneath all things.

You are held

by the earth that carries mountains,

by the air that moves through forests,

by the quiet wisdom within you

that has not left, even now.

Let the storm pass through.

Let the waters settle.

Balance is not the absence of movement.

It is finding your center

while life continues to flow.

So return, gently,

again and again,

to this moment.

To this breath.

To this body.

To yourself. 🌿