It's a strange thing,
Getting older.
Settling into the skin.
Finding a way to be that soothes the soul and expresses the essence of your character.
I'm learning to be quieter.
Say less.
Hear more.
Process neutrally,
And release.
Release judgement.
Release attachment.
Release control.
Accept what is, is.
And the transformation of the shell,
Observing the moulding of the clay.
Observe the brittling and the softening, the stretching and the compacting.
Garbing the self in layers of expression.
At moments barely recognizing the face that returns my gaze in the mirror.
Ever in awe or dismay as a ghost in the shell.
