You have made it through another year. And I am so very proud of you.
it might have been rough, seemed useless, or felt so utterly exhausting and defeating. But you did it. You won another battle, and lived another year.
What a brave thing to do.
I know things were rough. Things are rough, still.
But we'll get through this. You will get through this.
Every harsh winter, however cold and dark and dreary and wet and starved, will eventually be subdued by a bountiful, colourful, warm, happy and lively spring.
Such is life. Has always been.
You are not alone. People care about you. You are loved. you are enough.
So please-
hold on for next year, too.
I really hope to see you again, then. And you will whisper, "I did it", and you will hear the forest bow in respect and compassion as it murmurs back "How brave you were! Good job"
And until then, go with the blessings of the moss (or whichever deity you believe in) .
