I catch myself wondering how hold might be so delicate yet so determined. The beautiful in between that seems to take on new form. We see this so often in nature, not always pausing long enough to learn about this place.
What is the nature of this stuff that hold us there? Just long enough.
Erasing the edge of fear.
A little time spent this morning. Erasing the edge of fear with stitch. Holding myself there. Again.