This morning I woke up in a mood that could’ve lit candles — not from peace, “we are the world, we are the children” moment- but from the sheer heat of my thoughts. The kind of mood that isn’t loud but feels heavy, settled deep in the chest like a simmering ache. Something small had irritated me — minor, forgettable even — but my whole body carried it like it was gospel truth. The bible said that the sun should not set with your anger but what happens when the trigger happened at night? I didn’t even realize how much weight I was giving it until I woke up and remembered. You know that moment — when one small annoyance wants to open the door for every other grievance waiting in the wings.
There are so many ways to self love. And today, love looked like stepping back. Love looked like giving myself permission to feel everything without trying to suppress or explain it away — even the fire, even the anger.
But experience has taught me something else too. That feelings are visitors — strong, yes, but not always reliable narrators. They rise, burn, swell, but they also pass. And you can help them pass faster by not feeding them. I’ve learned — and I’m still learning — that I don’t have to add wood to every fire (my people would say “adding pepper or salt to injury”). Some things are better left to burn out naturally, especially when all they want is fuel and attention.
So in the absence of dry twigs — in the absence of reaction — it had nowhere to go. The fire softened. The mood simmered. It didn’t consume me.
Or maybe it was just the sweet reminder that it’s Friday and there’s no work — instant emotional fire extinguisher.
