The Weight we carry

Harvey was on the back of the couch again this morning—his usual spot.
Perched just so, head tilted slightly, eyes on me.
Not barking. Not fidgeting. Just… present.
Like he was checking in.
Like he could feel the pace I’d been pushing.

He’s not even two yet, but somehow he gets it.

There’s a stillness in him that reminds me of something I forget too often:
You don’t have to move fast to matter.
You don’t have to carry everything just because you can.

We all hold things we don’t talk about.
Regret. Expectations. The pressure to be “on.”
Old stories that we never asked for but somehow still feel responsible for.

And most days, we don’t even notice the weight—until someone like Harvey sits still long enough to remind us what ease looks like.

No drama. No noise.
Just quiet presence.
Just being.

And that’s what landed for me today:
You don’t always need a plan.
You don’t need a fix.
You don’t need to earn rest with exhaustion.

Sometimes, it’s enough to sit where you are.
To exhale.
To put one piece of that weight down.
And remind yourself that being here—fully, honestly, without pretending—is a kind of strength, too.

So if you’re feeling heavy today…
Try stillness.
Not because the world stops needing you,
but because you deserve a moment where it doesn’t.

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