A Journey to Self: Embracing Metta at the Threshold of Fifty

I am a coat...

The previous post, The Bottomless Lake, felt distant, like I was skimming the surface of my own experience rather than diving into its depth. It lacked the emotion, the raw vulnerability, that I always strive to pour into my writing—those moments where I can unravel myself on the page. I was in transition. Struggling to find footing between who I was an…