Being Here – Day 32
Being Here – Poem Day 32
Poem – When I let things slide too easily – Reflecting
Yesterday’s poem worked with the body — supporting boundary presence without confrontation, explanation, or defence.
Today’s poem stays with the experience of accommodation.
When I let things slide too easily — Reflecting
does not try to firm boundaries or encourage speaking up.
It names what it can feel like to smooth things over, to adapt quickly, to step aside to keep the peace.
From the inside, this pattern is often quiet.
It can feel considerate, practical, even caring.
Sometimes it’s the safest way to stay connected.
This poem treats accommodation not as weakness, but as something learned — often for good reason.
There is nothing here to change or improve.
No pressure to hold your ground.
Just language for recognising what it is like to live with boundaries that soften before you notice.
As always, nothing is required.
Reading the poem is enough.
Warmly,
Per
Poem – When I let things slide too easily – Reflecting
There are times when it feels simpler not to speak.
To adjust quietly.
To allow things to pass without comment.
Often this begins as consideration.
A wish not to make things harder.
A habit of smoothing the edges so others can stay comfortable.
The body may barely register the moment.
A small tightening. A brief pause.
Then the decision to let it go.
This can happen repeatedly,
until yielding becomes automatic and preference fades into the background.
It’s easy, later on, to notice a vague dissatisfaction —
not sharp enough to name, but present enough to linger.
Questions may follow.
Why didn’t I say anything?
Why do I keep agreeing?
Why does it feel like I disappear in certain moments?
But letting things slide is rarely about weakness.
It often grows out of care, or fear of conflict,
or long practice in staying acceptable.
Sometimes it is the safest way learned to remain connected,
to avoid escalation, to keep things moving.
Recognising this doesn’t restore the words not spoken.
It doesn’t suddenly firm the boundary.
It simply allows the experience to be seen with more understanding,
as a pattern shaped by history,
rather than a flaw of character.
