Sometimes I let the world see the softest parts of me. In return I receive flowers and poems that water me.
Other times I let the world in and receive a harsh coldness that makes me immediately retreat into the softness with a promise to never make us go out there again.
In those times I remind myself that there is nothing wrong with being a sensitive and sometimes fragile Being. With boundaries that sometimes feel so porous.
I pour warmth back into myself and stay in my cocoon until it feels safe to venture out again.
What is living if not a constant tug between staying protected and going on adventures?