Oh my heart aches, it cracks open, and open, and open.  It's joyous sorrow I feel, and it's slippery to contain.  I know I'm making inroads against unconscious behavior, it's just so difficult sometimes, this becoming.  I feel my organs rearranging, though there's resistance there's nothing to fight against, preparing for flight.

Monk-a-doodle has been experiencing illness past few days, still not quite back yet, and Baby R has just been so fussy today.  I've so much work to do and not enough time, and I keep bullishly stepping in my own way creating environmental stress where there needn't be, i.e. tiring myself with less sleep, not eating my best or at all, too much sugar, avoiding yoga and meditation, sitting in overwhelm instead of moving that small inch that's a cinch.

Watching snow fall, wishing I could go out in it and be completely alone for a undetermined time.

And I read this and this.  There's so much becoming all around when one looks for it, we're on an upswing I'm positive.