Relax?
Well now, that depends on the day and the mood, doesn’t it? Sometimes I think relaxation is less about what we do and more about what we stop doing. I stop chasing. I stop overthinking. I stop letting the world in with its noise and nonsense. That’s when the quiet sneaks back.
For me, a kettle on the boil is often the first step. There’s a kind of ritual to it, the steam, the sound, the comfort of knowing something warm is on its way. Then I’ll take that cup in hand and head outside if I can. There’s a spot in the garden where the breeze always seems to find me, and the birds never fail to chatter like old friends with gossip to spill.
Other times, I paint. The brush moves, the colors spread, and for a while it’s not about outcome but flow. I let the canvas carry whatever I can’t say in words. That’s a kind of peace you don’t get from anything else.
And then, there are those rare and beautiful moments when relaxation is simply lying flat on the grass, watching the clouds tumble across the sky, and remembering I don’t have to hold the world together; it’s been spinning just fine long before me.
So how do I relax? By giving myself permission to let go… and occasionally by hiding from the phone until it gives up ringing. Works like a charm.
Mae 🧡
UNDER THE WILL... OVER THE DRAMA... 
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