It's a morning full of reminders. To walk, before I can run. To breath - just a little - before jumping off cliffs. To stay calm and remind myself that it's going to be okay. And if it's not okay, that's also okay. To remember the slow, steady (prescribed and boring) formula for life et al that was designed by self to prevent the onset of the inevitable panic-attack-craziness. That 'feeling' is good. And too-much-feeling is even better. That if you keep being scared of hurt you'll stay very-very-still and end up going nowhere - because for the clumsy person, every corner becomes a weapon of mass destruction. That bruises aren't necessarily bad things, and that some of them are actually kinda-sorta-fun because they remind you of the reasons why they occurred in the first place. Like vivid purple body souvenirs. That my mind is a classic frenemy- it loves me so very much that it will suffocate and kill me one day. And that disregarding its worst premonitions is probably the wisest course of action. That sometimes the heart just 'knows' and that it should be trusted. That instinct is primal. It was what kept us alive long before the brain became victim to social constructs and delusions of grandeur. That everything should ultimately be simple. That life is all about being happy. That at the end of the day, all pretensions aside, all I've ever really wanted was to find home.