I want to stay here, immobile, or almost immobile and take a trip inside myself.
I want to take the time and the care necessary to feel the air caressing the skin on my cheeks. I want to try to feel its temperature.
I want to feel how my muscles are hugging my bones, see what rises first and more, my lungs or my belly, when I breathe in.
I want to pay close attention, again, to the air, this time to detect its passage in and through my nostrils. I want to feel its freshness as I breathe in and its warmth, induced by its brief stay inside my body, as I breathe out.
I want to say hello to my scalp, my hair, my forehead, my eyebrows, my eyes. Observe my own pupils with eyes closed.
And then I want to smile.
And feel my limbs as they relax.
I’m not in a hurry. I’m in my nest, where I indulge in my own beauty, and where I rest.
