There is a particular kind of tiredness that has nothing to do with sleep.
It comes from holding things long past the point they were ever meant to be held. Old arguments. Other people's opinions of you. A version of a plan that quietly stopped working months ago, but that you kept dragging forward out of habit.
Not everything is yours to keep
Not everything you are carrying was given to you to keep.
Some of it was handed to you in a hard moment, and you simply never set it back down. Some of it you picked up yourself, believing that holding on was the same thing as caring.
It rarely is.
What the wind already knows
Wind does not ask permission before it moves through a field. It simply arrives, touches everything, and carries off what was already loose — the dry leaf, the seed, the bit of down that had finished its purpose.
You are allowed to let the wind do that for you, too.
Opening your hands
Not everything needs a plan to leave. Not everything needs your permission slip, your farewell speech, your certainty that letting go is the right call. Sometimes you simply open your hands.
Today, notice one thing you have been gripping without quite knowing why. See if you can loosen your hold, even slightly. Not thrown away in anger — just released, the way a hand opens when it finally remembers it doesn't have to hold everything at once.
— The Dancing Sage 🌿