A note to self

I feel your pain.

I see how hard you work.

I hear your grief at fucking up again.

I understand your sadness that people you love will die.

I see your annoyance at what an asshole you can be.

I notice your overwhelming anxiety about your job.

I feel your humility about love.

I hear your sorrow that you are not good enough and might not ever be.

I feel your expectations and deepest longings. I feel those a lot.

I understand your worry that it’s not going to be okay.

I hear your fear that you are alone.

I notice your rapt attention.

I get your desire to make this place you are in better.

I smell your striving for contentment.

I see your fire.

I feel your unrelenting drive forward.

I see your chest opening wide again.

I feel your bravery.

I see you diving down deep.

It is hard. It is o’ so hard and I really feel how hard it is for you.

You are breathing underwater.

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What a wonder.

You, little fishy; swim, swim, swim.

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Cry and swim, punch and swim, say some swears and swim some more.

It is dangerous I know.

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It is lonely I know.

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It is ridiculously impossible I know.

Brown trout, which have learnt to escape to freedom through a pipe, at a fish farm near Alresford, Hampshire, Britain - Dec 2007

You are so tired but keep swimming little fishy.

Swim towards the sea. Swim, swim, swim.

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It is what you do.

And if you are lucky you will find a safe place to birth your dreams…

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…before you die.

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That’s who you are.

Swim.