The warmths returning or maybe Im chasing it.

The Warmth – by Paris Paloma
I like it. Let’s talk about it.

“I used to think that I was running from the night, but I’ve been following behind the light all this time.”

When I first heard that, I thought, “Oh, cute cliché.”
But it stuck with me.

The more I listened to the whole song, I realized it’s about healing in the dark. It’s about the mental and emotional push and pull between shadow and warmth that communes us.

It’s about facing the sun and letting the warmth invade your soul… versus being petrified of the dark.

“It can’t hurt me. It’s still there, but it can’t now. The warmth’s returning.”

How do you and I get there? To a place where you start feeling your cold rigid body start thawing and relaxing again.

“In the clearing
I reached it
with hands out like a child
Lifting up to eat it, I ate up all the light.”

Turn around. And reach for it, walk towards it, gather it, and consume it.
That’s my suggestion.

Turn around and stop looking at the thing that’s scaring you.

Turn toward the sun and quicken your pace.

Find the warmth.

The shadows behind you will still be there when you have to face them.
But you don’t always have to face them.

I guess this is my way of saying.
You have a choice.
It takes less effort to let it consume you. I know this. You could sit in the dark easily and let it blind you for a while. Only to wake up wandering aimlessly still in it though. There’s no survival in staying there.

Look. For. The. Things. That. Beam. Then recognize them and follow them.

Running toward the thing that will save you.
It takes your energy, but it strengthens your core.

I have a real life example of what this looks like.
Funny enough, it involves the sunset.

It could be anything that brings you comfort or a moment of peace though.

The other day, I felt like I was drowning.
My lungs were full of the tears, fears, and heartbreak of my children.

I was on my way to get my sweet bonus baby, and the sun was setting to the right of me. I looked at it and automatically took a deep breath in. I filled my lungs (not on purpose). It burned going in and felt like relief on the exhale.

I realized in that moment that I’m 32-ish, and that was the first time I truly understood the sun’s beauty.

Beautiful things can heal you.

I’ve been training my brain on my walks with Maui every morning. Not even realizing it. Ive taught my body and mind that the morning sun means safety.
It means peace.

In the car. My body had been so tense, I was forgetting to breathe.

And when I saw that sunset, my brain connected it to those walks with Maui, and I inhaled peace.

Consistency.
Consistently.
Recognizing beauty.
Facing the sun.

That’s how you heal, even when you’re straddling the line between pain and relief.

“Moving softly on my feet
I thought it ran from me
But the beckoning sunbeams
Are nearly in reach, nearly in reach.”

Quicken your pace.

—Mother Goose