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Breadcrumbs





I’m leaving breadcrumbs for my future self to help me find my way back. 

 

Today happens to be a rare moment of clarity and blue skies and sunbathing everything in its glow.  The chaos of this winter’s storms are temporarily at bay, and I feel like spring might just make it’s entrance. 

 

Winter storms in California have been wreaking havoc on power lines and turning any basements people may have into makeshift aquariums.  Today, though, is a respite­­­— a day so bright it makes me want to open the windows to let in the fresh air, scrub the grout in my kitchen, tidy up cabinets crammed with food storage containers and quirky coffee mugs, and chase the dust bunnies that are nearly as large as my Maine Coon cat, Purrrseidon.  Even the stacks of papers populating every horizontal surface in my house seem to be calling to be cleared out.

 

Let’s not kid ourselves, though.  The storms will return.  The clutter will rise again like a phoenix from the ashes of my neatly organized desk and reclaim its territory.  The fatigue from chronic illness will inevitably make a comeback, so in a moment of foresight, I’m leaving myself breadcrumbs like a child in a fairy tale.

 

They are handwritten notes on a stack of cards.  Notes from myself waiting to be opened on those inevitable cloudy days.

“You care so much about others; don’t forget to extend some of that kindness and compassion to yourself” Or “Yes, you are tired, but is it physical or emotional exhaustion?  If it’s the latter, grab those watercolors or that book that will absolutely crush you—metaphorically speaking”

 

When the doubt creeps in, when I wonder how I ever tackled the chaos in my kitchen cabinets or believed I could juggle all of the dentist and doctor appointments for the kids, let alone myself, I’ll have these notes to remind me.  Like a fairytale protagonist retracing their steps through the dark forest we all travel, these breadcrumbs will guide me back to a time when everything felt possible. 

 

On this gorgeous break between storms, I invite you to imagine having a stack of envelopes filled with encouragement, written by a past version of yourself who intimately knows your journey.  A tangible connection with a past version of yourself, reminding you of the resilience that has carried you through storms before, and assuring you that every tempest eventually passes.  A collection of notes to light the way when the skies darken.  These breadcrumbs, carefully laid out on a bright and promising day, may just be the compass that leads us back to ourselves when we need it most.

 

After all, in the grand narrative of our lives, we are the authors, the protagonists, sometimes the anti-heroes, and often the most effective navigators of our own story.

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