All is Well

I sit on a warm blanket on my cold bedroom floor, surrounded by acrylic paint, brushes, and paper. A small laptop rests on the side just in case I am inspired to prose or some other written piece.

I hear the birds outside welcoming the new day. I listened to some sheep and goats bleating in the distance awaiting their morning feed.

I smell the fresh scent of my herbal brew, some lemongrass and basil with a touch of ginger and garlic. It wafted from my tiny kitchen, up under my nose, more pleasant than the coffee I was once a slave to.

It felt so good.

There was a freedom that came from acceptance and peace.

An acceptance that came from a knowing.

A peace that came from a connection to the Divine.

That assured me, quietly and lovingly, that all is well.