I've been sprinting for weeks, it feels like, pulled by business, family, household, partner, and personal needs. I've mostly stayed on the healthy-productive side of the line, but there have definitely been days when I veer into the frantic-counterproductive zone.
So today, I bought a pie crust. I bought croutons instead of loaves of bread to cut up and dry. I picked up a bottle of oil at the store I was in, rather than traveling to another store to refill a bottle I already had.
And I forgave myself. Laughing-loving-nonattachment compassion, for the beautiful ridiculousness of my desire to make an entire traditional turkey dinner from scratch, for my heartbreaking unnecessary guilt at "failing" to do so, for the way I pout and whine and resist forgiveness, resist rest, resist guidance back to center. How lovely I am in my messy humanity. How funny. How worthy.
I won't be making a pie crust this year. But I will be making space to breathe and be.
I'm also forgiving myself for not having a picture on this post.