This doesn't have to be perfect.
I'm thinking and over thinking each word I type. Deleting. Censoring. Revising.
But there is no right way to write this blog post.
The expectation is simple: release the thoughts that are taking up too much space.
In no particular order.
It's been 59 days since I've seen the ocean.
I don't like who I am when I'm anxious and controlling.
I want to control things.
I want to be perfect.
Even now, I can't write freely. I can't write the way that I used to. This disconnect between my brain and my fingers has lasted for decades now. It's exhausting.
What would it feel like to let go of everything? To stop micro managing, to stop investing in the outcome?
His problems will no longer by my problems.
There won't be so much stuff.
I won't care what people think.
I'm going to meditate now.
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