Fear, this new-old place I recognize. I have run from you with every ounce of strength, as soon as I caught a glimpse of you, only to find myself running straight into your depths.
Today, I recognize that you are a way station on this path, that I will find you again and again. I cannot avoid this place.
So I will allow myself to tread gently here. Carefully will I move through this place where my senses are heightened and my energy curls into itself, protective. I know there are gifts here, I know there is strength and wisdom to be found (greater, perhaps, than that which lies in the sunny meadows).
I cannot walk here absorbed in the landscape without startling at slight sounds, I cannot walk here feeling fully free. Therefore, I will not ask that of myself.
Rather, in gentleness will I observe myself, passing through this station. I will not judge myself for hunching over, I will not force myself to change my pace. I will allow myself to be here, as I am inclined to be. And I will see where that leads me.