The piece I was responding to held a sweetness (a vulnerability) that made me very uncomfortable. It was so beautiful. So lovely. So kind. I have a hard time letting myself feel those things. I suppose my process was allowing myself to try and be gentle towards myself, but being honest about moments of extreme resistance to that. I asked my brother to film most of it since we have that tension with one another – knowing that all there is in life is to be good and gentle to yourself and those you love, but acknowledging how hard that is for each other because of 'home' // 'roots' // and ultimately the environment we grew up in. I am so grateful for how we act as mirrors for one another in this regard. It seems like the older I get, the more self compassion becomes non-negotiable. It’s a means of survival and the only way to really move forward. And that is so terrifying for me. Moments of leaning in, moments of running away. Moments of taking joy in simply trying to heal this body.