small steps in the dark

For the part of my brain
that thrives on planning
having no concrete plan
leaves me wondering what to do
like putting one foot in front of the other
in a pitch black room
I have never been in before
earnestly reaching out for anything
any clue of place or floorplan
taking the wrong step
feels scarier
than taking no step at all.

Eventually
my eyes will adjust to the darkness
if only slightly.
I need to keep moving
somehow.
Small, cautious steps
are better than none –
I whisper to myself
over and over.
Rewiring my brain
thought by thought
step by step.

bread crumbs and snowflakes

Give my mind a bread crumb
immediately
it wants the entire loaf.

What next thing should we do?
How will each detail look?
What will the 15th step be?

One flake of snow
growing into a snowman
in less than a minute.

For goodness sake, just slow down.
Stay here, in this moment,
without worrying and planning for a future
that might not happen.
Appreciate the here and now
without wanting to become bigger.

One bread crumb,
one snowflake,
one at a time.