Some days it felt like there was nothing she could do. Her strength did not hold up the light, her softness did not withstand the storm. So she went to the forest.
And there she walked, and there she bowed to collect acorns from the ground. Not too many, for the tree needed them - just enough to fill a pocket and rattle around inside her heart. She had collected acorns as a child, back when the woods were only woods and not a sanctuary from the world.
She had no intention. No expectation of healing in the forest. She only went because she felt like there was nothing she could do. But see, the bowing, the plucking of shine from dirt, the old-fashioned tumble of acorn against acorn in her cardigan pocket, brought her the simplicity of childhood. Not peace. Just a reminder in all the complexities that simplicity could still be found if she needed it. Simplicity like a mother's wordless hug, a warm glass of milk, the light going gold before dark, the bandaid over a bruise.
She brought that back with her along with acorns. And she tried to remember how some times nothing needed to be done more than a quiet keeping of simplicity to make life feel safe even without peace.