forgotten
When I die, I want to be forgotten.
In the same way we forget the fallen leaves of Winter
that, in their death and dying, make room for the blooms of Spring.
Previous
Previous
grief
Next
Next
When I die, I want to be forgotten.
In the same way we forget the fallen leaves of Winter
that, in their death and dying, make room for the blooms of Spring.
I provide strategy, communications, and Human Design analysis and coaching services.