Therapy Bits

This evening felt like a deep breath I didn’t know I needed. After a long, restless week, I finally gave myself permission to slow down. As the sun dipped below the horizon, I dimmed the lights, wrapped myself in my softest blanket, and let the quiet of the room settle around me. It was just me, the faint hum of the world outside, and the comforting stillness I’d been craving.

I brewed a fresh cup of coffee—not the hurried morning kind, but one I could savor. The steam curled up into the air, rich and warm, carrying with it that earthy aroma I always find grounding. Holding the mug in both hands, I felt a kind of steady calm, as if the weight of it alone could anchor me to the present. Each sip was slow, unhurried, a reminder that I don’t always need to rush.

With the mug beside me, I picked up the book I’ve been meaning to read for weeks. Finally, no distractions—just the quiet turning of pages and the joy of getting lost in another world. The story pulled me in so completely that time seemed to blur, and for once, I didn’t check my phone or glance at the clock. It felt like I’d slipped into a little cocoon, safe and peaceful.

Self-care, I realized tonight, doesn’t have to be grand or complicated. It can be as simple as choosing to rest, to enjoy a drink slowly, to give myself the gift of presence. By the time I set the book down, the coffee was gone, my shoulders had loosened, and my mind felt clearer. Tonight was a small reminder: I deserve this kind of softness. I think I’ll make more evenings like this.