This morning, I feel exhausted.
My body is begging me to close my eyes and sleep.
But I don't want to.
I need to write something and welcome the new day.
I just can't find any word, no matter how much I squeeze my brain.
So, I do what I always do when I'm lost; I move.
I start my fifteen minutes timer even if I'm aware I may not find a single word to write. And then, I begin by accepting my limits.
I have nothing to offer to this white page but my tiredness.
And while I type these words, something is happening in and to me.
I am a little less tired, as if the page is taking my exhaustion so I can move on with my day.
I'm also less worried about the day ahead. By acknowledging my limits, I also reconnect with my humanness and my purpose.
And then, while the time runs out, I think about you reading this.
You, who maybe are even more tired than I am and yet have to get up and do your things, fight your battle, and walk your path.
You are my hero. You are my heroine.