The Gift of Sadness

Words hard to come by, to describe the tenderness inside. So vulnerable, and exposed. Should I even share? Belly soft, body relaxed, I am surrendering to the sadness. Tears. Each breath, one whole sweep up, and down, brushing softly against aching heart. Throat tight. Thought of image of Lauren Hutton calling upon her women friends gathered around the dinner table, and urging them to 'find your voice'. Not now. I shall think about tightness later. Going back to breath instead, noticing each slow ascent, and descent. Breath gently massaging the tender cavity. Feeling the hurt at each point of contact between air taken in, and out. I notice the expansion, the almost freedom, from heart open. Gratitude. Door opening, and closing. Followed by phone conversation. Noted. Soft belly, back to breath. And clear intention to be fully there, for tender presence. Holding it, patiently, with each breath.