"May brooks and trees and singing hills join in the chorus too.
And every gentle wind that blows send happiness to you.'
~ Irish Blessing ~
I went to the dentist the other day for a teeth cleaning, and was told that I brush too hard, so the hygienist gave me a tiny, super-soft brush to use with great care, and it's been interesting. My mind tells me that it's impossible to clean my teeth in such a gentle fashion, and yet there's something about it that feels right on, and even nurturing.
Through this process, I've realized that I tend to wash my face in a somewhat over the top aggressive manner as well, so the question that has arisen is why? And the answer seems to be linked to the more is better concept, and the generalized urge I seem to have to force and push and grab at life as if it needs my urgent help, which, of course, it does not.
When I can loosen the reins in any fashion, my experience becomes soothing instead of exhausting, and the ride a pleasure instead of a chore.
I trust what's easy and graceful, and understand that everything doesn't have to be hard.