This is me continuing to reflect on the mindset of “let the discombobulations happen,” as I wrote about recently. I’m looking at the irony of how things seem to actually go better when I don’t try so hard to control them!
The tighter you grip, the harder you strain, the more you trip into puddles of pain. Loosen your grasp; let come what may-- and you'll weave like a cat through the weeds of your day.
In the notebook
I love that you're continuing to explore this! And you even made a case in the poem itself, as the first and third lines of the second stanza are only a near rhyme. Loosen your grasp, indeed! 😁✨
I had to do a lot of loosening the grasp yesterday, and I was thinking of your recent post, but for whatever reason my brain couldn't come up with the word "discombobulation." The concept was there, though! 🤣🤣🤣✨