Not my doormat…

But it still makes me feel instantly welcome.

Like I’ve arrived home, to my sanctuary… my space.

My mind… well, it’s a bit of a madhouse.

A friend once said to me,

“Michelle, I’d just love to pop into your mind for five minutes and have a look around.”

Just five minutes…

And she’s a wise one, someone I lean on, so I think she already has a sense of what goes on in there.

Truth is, all our minds are a little wild.

No matter how in control we feel, how calm we appear…

they pull us towards worry, fear, “what ifs”…

and, in their own way, they’re trying to protect us.

I’ll hold my hands up … I talk to myself.

I speak directly to my mind…

“Thanks for flagging that worry, that fear, that danger.

I see it. I hear it.

But I’m okay.

I’m all in, and I’m going to keep going.

I appreciate you… but this is safe.”

That little check-in, those moments of conversation..

they turn the madness into something familiar…

something that feels like home.

I’ve done it for years…

and lately, I do it even more.

Widowhood is a mad house …

The house gathering, where there was not the option to RSVP.

Mad, eh?

Michelle ❤️