May you know that even here in November,
you are free to begin again.
As the days grow longer
and you begin to wonder
how to live inside what has already changed,
may you know that each sunrise is still a sunrise.
The small rhythms you create here still matter.
Even when there are slow starts to the mornings
and days that feel left unfinished,
may you know that inhale after exhale,
you are still part of the day turning.
You are learning to stay near what continues,
however subtle.
You are learning to notice
what shifts with what stays steady.
And as blades of grass still lift under the sun in winter
and rivers still move when the days shorten,
you too are free to move
in ways that reflect the shape of the day.
You are slowly but surely discovering,
perhaps, after everything,
this is what it can mean to begin again:
continuing to breathe deep amid the change,
and remain present, anyway, however you can.
MHN
