![[the big sticky yes.]](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!N9rH!,w_80,h_80,c_fill,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep,g_auto/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F714ed26d-b5b9-4412-b111-67511963f6e5_1024x1024.png)
![[the big sticky yes.]](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!K64B!,e_trim:10:white/e_trim:10:transparent/h_72,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2962673c-ba66-4b24-b304-48f61096dbe6_2688x512.png)
First, Current Moodboard:
I’ve had covid for about a week now. It arrived right after the full moon, which feels ironic in its timing. Because I have BEEN craving time off, some type of escape, some type of interruption from my mundane routine, daydreaming about what it would feel like to pause everything. & Then I was given exactly that. A whole week at home. It’s funny how life rearranges itself when you least expect it.
And here I am, recovering, but also feeling like the most well-rested version of myself in years. I’ve been craving something as simple as a walk a long, unhurried, scenic walk to the smoothie shop. The thought of it feels almost luxurious now. 😭 I didn’t realize how sacred those little moments were until my body demanded stillness. Sometimes it takes being pinned down to see the value in the ordinary.
2] My mom is just a girl:
Something else softened in me this week: my relationship with my mom. She’s just a girl, really. I looked at her the other day and couldn’t stop crying. My sharp tongue has cut her often; as the eldest daughter in me has always been quick to point out what she could do better, where she went wrong, what she missed. I’ve been the witness to her mistakes and whoopsies, and somewhere in that role I forgot her humanity. But I’m remembering now: our parents are also working with what they’ve got. And while it’s their responsibility to grow, it’s ours to allow them the space to do so without trying to control their process.
3] My desire for authenticity is intensifying:
Lately, my sensitivity has been dialed all the way up. I can’t stomach shallowness or superficiality. It feels like poison in my system. The conversations I want to have, the words that spill out of me, the things I’m creating they all demand depth. I want marrow, not surface. I want truth, even when it stings.
Tomorrow I’m supposed to return to work, and part of me is dreading it. I’ve grown attached to this rhythm of rest the quiet mornings, the little joys of doing nothing, the dilly-dallying around the house that has felt strangely holy. Maybe I’ll have to step back into the old rhythm for a bit. Maybe I won’t. But what’s certain is that I won’t return the same. Illness gave me space, and space gave me clarity.
-Limitlessly Yma
