Sometimes it's the little things that can lift the spirit. It can be a simple thing like a budding flower or a few words that come after the deafening silence.
Yesterday I was standing on the beach it was gray and wet from the rain yet behind me was a child finding the joy of a puddle. Oh for things to be that simple.
Maybe I should find my own puddle and jump in it. Relive the pure joy that came from it.
Despite the gray and the wet there was a serenity. The beach was mostly empty except for the few that braved the path behind me. It was serene.
I stood in silence; my mind in its own world reliving memories as I wiped my face now and then. Being at the beach-- the wind, the sound, the water is my therapy.
This morning my therapy were a few words I read. Simple words but words nonetheless.
They were my new hope.
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