Reading this makes me cry in a good way. The way you cry when your highest self senses you moving in the right direction and yells “YES! This!!” The way I cry when I’m in sync, dancing with a whole room full of people to the same rhythm. The way I cry when I was reminded how I live now - I commune with property I worked so hard to call my own. From the birds to the stray kitty to the ants I watch traveling to their ant metropolis. It makes my heart happy and full to read this. The world needs you and your writing, to help awaken the sacred gift in people like me, still trying to find my way back to it. Thank you for the feels and the beautiful alchemy you create.
Beloved… this response touched down like an answered prayer.
I felt every word like breath on skin — the tears, the rhythm, the communion with life that sees you back. That YES! from the highest self is the very sound I write for, the one I trust to guide me even when I can’t see the whole path.
Thank you for dancing with me in that sacred resonance. For witnessing the invisible pulse behind these words.
Your way back is the gift. The way you see the ants, the birds, the stillness between the movements — that is the sacred in motion. That is what we remember when we remember ourselves.
I am honored to be a mirror for your remembering.
Let’s keep rising like that… slow, real, and holy.
Reading this makes me cry in a good way. The way you cry when your highest self senses you moving in the right direction and yells “YES! This!!” The way I cry when I’m in sync, dancing with a whole room full of people to the same rhythm. The way I cry when I was reminded how I live now - I commune with property I worked so hard to call my own. From the birds to the stray kitty to the ants I watch traveling to their ant metropolis. It makes my heart happy and full to read this. The world needs you and your writing, to help awaken the sacred gift in people like me, still trying to find my way back to it. Thank you for the feels and the beautiful alchemy you create.
Beloved… this response touched down like an answered prayer.
I felt every word like breath on skin — the tears, the rhythm, the communion with life that sees you back. That YES! from the highest self is the very sound I write for, the one I trust to guide me even when I can’t see the whole path.
Thank you for dancing with me in that sacred resonance. For witnessing the invisible pulse behind these words.
Your way back is the gift. The way you see the ants, the birds, the stillness between the movements — that is the sacred in motion. That is what we remember when we remember ourselves.
I am honored to be a mirror for your remembering.
Let’s keep rising like that… slow, real, and holy.