She sits, on a small bench with a little patch of sunshine shining through.
She sits with her journal, with her cup of Chai — and she reflects.
Thinking about her life, her loss, pondering all the moments gone by. Wondering about her future, wondering what it will be, what it will bring — more fearful now than ever before. But she doesn’t know this. She just sips her tea, and she writes what she’s grateful for.
She always focuses on the light, you see. Always focused on bringing in positivity, harmony — grace. …
If you’ve lost your dad, you know it can take awhile for the reality of that to settle in.
You likely know the feeling of wanting others to care, to really GET what you’re going through.
After all, dads are special people. And there’s no experience in the world like losing your dad.
Hi, my name is Caitlin, and I lost my dad to brain cancer when I was 22 years old (this is a picture of us before he died)…at least I think I was 22. …
I love to dance.
And for a year and a half now, I have not been able to.
So Lee Ann Womack’s song that goes, “And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance,” even as just a metaphor for life, somewhat breaks my heart. That’s because physically, I’ve been doing a lot more sitting than I’ve ever done before or ever thought I would do — especially at 28 years old.
Literally sitting, not dancing.
But by sitting, I’m playing my part right now; stepping up to do what my body and soul have asked. Which means that what I’ve been doing IS dancing. That’s right, I am dancing even though I physically can’t dance. …
During this time of physical illness I’ve thought a lot about what I’ll want to do when I’m well again. Mostly, I joke, but with all sincerity, that I want a vacation. That I want to just do whatever it is I want to do whenever I want to do it and enjoy every second of it! I want to go to the beach. I want to run, and dance, and skip. I want to do agility training with my dog. I want to learn modern calligraphy. …
My wishes for you today — boldness, confidence, grace.
My darling canaries~
You can do anything.
And your life is divinely blessed, like a sunflower reaching up to allow the sunlight to grace her face.
You can do anything. And all that you desire to create and be is for a reason.
When you write, you let freedom flow through your fingertips. And that freedom has the power to open Heaven’s door.
One could even say that that IS Heaven’s door.
As you create from the heart, you allow a wellspring of knowledge to bubble up to the surface…sometimes with insights and information you didn’t even realize you had within you. …
You don’t have to do what others expect. This is your life, and you get to live it the way you choose.
You do not have to follow the crowd, or others’ expectations of you.
This is your life. How do you want to live it?
How do you want to feel? What do YOU want to be doing, right here, right now?
Follow that wave.
Allow one little seedling of an idea to expand into a mighty oak tree.
You have not gotten anything wrong. And you are infinitely and abundantly loved.
You cannot get it wrong here. Tune in and ask, what does your heart want to do? …
Be kind to yourself.
Be kind when you rewind.
Be kind when you think no one is watching.
Be kind even when people are.
Sometimes it can be even harder to be kind to ourselves when we feel others are watching or judging us. That we’re somehow not worthy of this kindness, and honoring, or respect.
But we are.
YOU are, my child. My darling, sweet friend, and companion.
You are worthy.
That is what I want you to know.
And every word you think and deed or action you take, every desire, every wish that aligns with love and kindness towards yourself, brings infinite treasures…a wellspring flowing from within. …
I sit down and open to a blank page in my journal. Tears stream down my face and I begin to write.
I write everything I can think of, allowing each thought to pass through and make room for the next as I write them down on the page.
At a certain point, the language begins to shift — and I realize it has become a loving letter to myself.
What kind words do you practice saying to yourself? When you’re sad, frustrated, or feeling all alone?
I still remember the blank page with the lovely text Compassionate Whispers written in my own handwriting at the top. …
I glance at the peony on the window sill, and admire its loveliness.
It is a large bloom, a light and delicate shade of pink in color.
I’ve known others to rave about peonies but I never quite understood. Perhaps because of never actually seen one in real life.
Now I get it, I think to myself.
There is a softness to them. And a fullness. Which, together…just feels right.
I remember a quotation from a dear friend of mine. It’s funny, because she too had the same softness, yet fullness of life.
Anyway, she said,
“Life is a leap of faith; a bold declaration of hope.” …
I sit on my bed, gazing across the room at a delicate white, ceramic bunny bank, with gentle flowers painted on in hues of light pink and a graceful purple, and it occurs to me…
Gentleness is a form of abundance.
And for gentle souls, it is also an important part of self-care.
The more we care for ourselves the more abundance we can allow into our lives.
The more you nurture and honor and care for yourself, the easier it will be to open up and allow love in, in all its many forms.
What feels like love to you? What forms of love are you wanting to let into your life? …