a chill in the air, fog gently resting and wafting through the graveyard. Gobi is warmly nestled in me covered in a blue cashmere blanket. I stroke her and she mews like a feline with deep contentment. My children laugh around me. They love around me. The air is light with completion .

I slowly drink my coffee, and sit down to journal. There is not much to reflect on. I stop. And engage with what is going on. Mishka with Gobi on her lap. Ahaan getting a lecture on gaming. Adi being well adi.

And it arises. A deep knowing that my soul is slowly healing from the poison. I need more time maybe years in reflection solitude and slowness to completely alchemise the suffering into gold.

WITH every breath, it took deeper towards peace, quiet and alignment.

You cannot mend yourself, heal yourself, with the broken shards of another.

If you do, you get a broken, shattered mug, that looks ok on the outside, but when you pour water into it, it leaks through the cracks.

Only whole cups can hold water.

Made whole, from their own material.

So now starts the beautiful work of compassionate inquiry- how do I become whole?