And so, we come to the end of three consecutive days, barely leaving The Womb. I have no complaints. I wrote a lot. I listened to a lot of music. (Once again, Sara Bareilles & Ingrid Michaelson.) I lit my candles and my incense and put the metaphorical keep out sign on the door.
I have no complaints. Tomorrow is a day of wandering, despite the bad weather. Friday and Saturday are performance days. But I will be able to meet those things with intention, because I tended my inner gardens when I needed to. Occasionally, I get this balance right. Mercy.
Now, a bit of reading, then bed.
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