When I feel low, can I write myself better? By acknowledging, accessing, becoming, expressing Deborah, I feel tender and supportive towards myself.
I, Deborah, reach through the mirror and hug Deborah on to my shoulder, where she gently sobs her unhappiness away.
The two girls hold hand and walk out together into the garden of soft feelings. In the garden problems turn into feelings. Feelings are a stream, forever flowing and changing.
Outside of the garden, problems are rocks. Hard tools are needed to deal with them.
Mirror Brother, forever alone, has a hard day ahead of him.
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