You will breathe life into whatever you focus on

Dear self,  
I know the mood’s been low—  
add the bad weather to the mix, the extreme heat,  
You keep counting bad apples,
as if the rot outweighs the orchard.

Lately, you forget the quiet good.  
You forget:  
your legs still carry you at dawn,  
running 45 minutes into the hush of morning  
with no pain, only breath and pavement.

You forget:  
you have a bed you trust to hold you,  
a door that closes softly behind you,  
a home that doesn’t raise its voice.

Do you know how rare that is?

Some people fear their own keys.

You are loved—deeply, messily.  
You love back, just as fiercely.  
You have books stacked like small altars  
to wonder and memory and magic.  
They comfort you, don’t they?  
Just their spines against the wall.

And soon, you'll have a business trip
A five-day, all-expenses-paid trip
to a town you’ve never known,
because even your giant company
can’t find another you.

So Please remember—  
you are rich in ways that matter.

I know, I know.  
Sometimes all that light  
feels like a cruel joke.  
You say your mantras, light your candles,  
try to summon joy like a spell.  
Still, the debt looms.  
The school tuition reminders.  
You check your bank app  
with a sinking heart  
and stare too long at numbers  
that won’t stretch.

But listen—  
we’ve walked through storms  
that should’ve broken us.  
I don’t even know how we made it,  
only that we did.

So one more time,  
just a little bit longer—  
hang in there.

This ache won’t last forever.  
This too shall pass,  
my tender, tired heart.  
This too  
shall pass.

Bonne nuit, doux rêveur,

Karin Sabrina