Once upon a time,
There was a version of you that felt scattered,
Not gone,
Just pieces everywhere.
Take a slow breath in and exhale like you're setting something down.
Again,
Inhale gently and exhale a bit longer this time.
Let your shoulders drop,
Let your jaw unclench,
And let your body realize that you're not in the moment that is hurting you anymore.
You are here,
Safe enough to begin.
Imagine yourself standing in a vast,
Dimly lit yet glowing space,
Not empty but quiet.
The air hums softly like something ancient is paying attention,
And as your eyes adjust,
You start to notice something scattered across the ground.
Small,
Glowing fragments,
Pieces,
Not sharp,
Not dangerous,
Just sparkling,
Waiting.
You take a step forward and something inside of you recognizes them before your mind can explain it.
These are yours.
Not pieces of something broken,
But pieces of something powerful.
Something that had to be placed elsewhere to survive.
You kneel down and pick one up.
It pulses softly in your hand.
Maybe it feels like the version of you who kept going when no one noticed.
The part of you who learned how to adapt the strength it took to stay or the courage it took to leave.
You don't have to name it perfectly,
Your body already knows.
And as you hold it,
It doesn't overwhelm you,
It simply returns,
Gently,
Like it never stopped belonging to you.
And you begin to notice.
There are more.
Not lost,
Just scattered across time,
Sparkling,
Shimmering,
Across moments where you needed to survive more than you needed to feel whole.
You don't rush,
You don't grab everything at once,
You begin to gather.
One piece at a time.
Each step you take,
Another fragment reveals itself.
Each one you pick up,
Settles into you like warmth returning to cold hands.
No force,
No fixing,
Just remembering.
Let yourself feel for a moment.
You didn't lose yourself,
You placed yourself where you needed to be.
And now,
You get to choose what comes back.
Piece by piece.
You gather your strength,
You gather your sparkle.
Not all at once,
Not perfectly either,
But intentionally.
And as you stand there holding everything you've reclaimed so far,
You might notice something surprising.
You were never empty.
You were always becoming.
Take a breath in,
And feel where the strength lives in your body now.
Your chest,
Your hands,
Your spine.
Let it settle,
Let it anchor.
You did not find your strength here,
You gathered it.
And you don't have to collect it all today,
You just have to keep choosing.
Choosing to come back to yourself.
Again,
And again,
And again.
Take one more slow breath in.
And when you are ready,
Gently return.
Still whole,
Still becoming,
Still yours.
