I have been thinking about my recent post, where I talked about it being OK that I haven’t written for a while.
Because I’m thinking that even if I don’t feel an intense urgency to write, I still need to write. It’s like preventative medicine for me. 
I’m open about my time with my psychotherapist. Even though I definitely feel I have overcome the major hurdle of my grief, I still see him on a regular basis, to talk about other things in my life that I am working on. And again, I feel like that is preventative work, or maintenance. It’s a way to keep me on this positive path I have found. Instead of veering  off before I realize, and then needing to get back on it. And part of that has to do with my writing and expressing myself.

So this afternoon when I left my office, within moments of me stepping outside and these thoughts of me writing more consumed my thoughts, a butterfly literally flew into my face, then into the cup I was holding and then flew out again. And for those of you who are new readers to this blog, shortly after my mom passed, a number of us were visited by her in the form of butterflies. I followed the butterfly to a bush where it hid itself amongst the leaves. And I said out loud, “Mom? Did you just slap me in the face?”

And I had the validation that I needed. It’s time to keep writing. My mom says so.

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