Grief can be a beast. It’s something people rarely talk about, because most people see grief as a dark monster hiding in the shadows waiting to jump out at you when you least expect it. And sometimes it’s very much that way. Grief, for me, feels like a cracked window that won’t shut all of the way, no matter how hard you try to push it down. The opening allows for street noise and a spine-chilling breeze to sneak in, which can be uncomfortable and intrusive. On the flip side, it can also be the very best thing, because the crack is keeping us in touch with what’s beyond the walls of our safety. And that’s where life is. ✨ I shared a snippet of some fiction I started writing yesterday on my story. A lot of you have asked to see my writing, and a lot of you have asked me to share about my process and how I find inspiration. Well, here’s a start 👉🏻 I wake up every morning, and, no matter how I feel, I get out of bed and open my bedroom blinds. I let light in. I live a little, and I live a lot. I say yes to what excites me and no to what doesn’t. I let myself feel, whatever it is, whenever it is. I stay connected to people around me. I talk to strangers and walk in the park and listen to the sound of the wind passing through leaves. I give love and receive love. I say hello, and I say goodbye. I allow myself to feel hurt, because things do hurt me and that’s okay. And I notice the small things. The very small things. A person’s smile, the way food tastes, the sound of a car’s engine as it cools down. All of these little moments, which can seem trivial to most, remind me of the importance of living and how, through living, words sometimes just come. ☀️ If you’ve lost your creative spark, crack a window. You’d be surprised to discover just how much is within you that simply needs permission to be released. So give yourself permission. And set yourself free.