I write because it helps me contact a part of me that is so often hidden, that part that wants to know what it feels like to be compassionate, the part that see’s the struggle within you and knows its my plight as well. I want to see what’s beautiful in you beyond what your behavior exhibits and then I want to apply a warming balm that soothes your mind and quiets the demons that speak to you. I want to be able to do that for my daughter as well. I want her to feel safe and connected to me. I want to soften, I want to give of myself and feel vulnerable. I want to love. I want understanding and kindness to lead my voice, to soften its tone. It implies acceptance. As I write I am knowing that the reasons I haven’t been able to do that just yet or as often as I would like, have to do with allowing me to be who I am and to love myself-to forgive myself for who I’ve been, my own behaviors, understood and loved. It’s about not needing to be right or perfect but allowing that playful state to exist-not because I am avoiding feeling but in fact because I have learned acceptance and can see the beauty in each experience. Acceptance allows trust and trust brings less reactivity. Trust allows truth. Truth is peaceful, it has nothing to prove.