Now Note: what my hands are holding
Today my hands held:
a hot cup of coffee that cooled too quickly,
the soft ears of my dog,
my phone (more than I meant to),
a mango I didn’t eat but admired for its color,
a pen I forgot I loved.
They also held tension I didn’t notice
until I remembered to unclench.
To let go.
To hold something lighter instead.
Sometimes, presence begins there,
in the inventory of what we’re carrying,
and what we might put down.
So I ask:
What are your hands holding right now?