Your notebook is calling you. “Write me,” it says, sounding very much like the little flask in Alice in Wonderland. Unlike Alice, who drinks a potion to become something other than herself, you write to fully inhabit yourself. To remember who you are, what matters. To talk back to life. To rage and complain, celebrate, hope, record, to simply be. In your skin, naked to the page. Set a timer for ten minutes and, with your notebook open and fast writing pen at the ready, cast your mind back to a moment when you felt most fully alive, most fully yourself. Describe that moment in minute detail. The look of it, the smell of it, the taste of it, the feel of that moment against your skin.