Consider the wildflowers.
They do not work hard to be beautiful.
They do not strive for a place in the meadow or on the hill.
They simply are.
I look at myself and can appreciate me for being, not just for doing.
I have spend much of my life in busy preparation.
All the commotion is designed to keep me moving, to keep me from failing, maybe even to keep me from remembering or feeling.
For at least one hour today, I will consider the wildflowers.
Perhaps I will lie in a meadow or on a hill or in my own backyard with a book.
Then I will allow myself to be like the wildflowers.
Not striving, or frantic, just being.
If being brings memories of painful feelings, they can come to visit but I will not allow them to stay and destroy the flowers.
Today I will allow myself the freedom to be the best of my gifts, me.