That Mama Bear tenacity is rising in me again. It’s been a while, but she is awakened. To be honest, it’s been a year of inner struggle. I know I’m not alone. And I know there are so many bigger concerns in the world than mine. I also know we experience the emotions and energy of what we believe. We create tumultuous inner worlds that grow if left unchecked. Life can come to feel like a war zone.

I’ve found that Trust is not a state I achieve once and hold forever. It’s a practice, a way of being. When fear rises in my heart—grieving the world’s confusion, questioning my ability or intentions, whispering scarcity and doubt — I pause. This is the invitation. Not to resist, but to remember: I am not the thought. I am the one who observes the thought. And from this place, I choose how to love it.

There’s nothing more expansive or soul-awakening than nature to rouse us from the slow lull of complacency that can so easily set in. Nature opens thought to new perspectives. It invites wonder back into our lives.

Confidence rises not through striving or polishing what was never broken, but through quiet release — the soft unhooking of vain ideals: human perfection, masked performance, success without soul.

I rest within a state of gratitude, embraced by light and fullness of being. I am whole, worthy, one with all that is naturally mine and me.

I find myself thinking about those of us who are feeling uncertain. This simple meditation on ‘abundance’ came to me as comfort this quiet Saturday morning. I see so many of us finding a renewed strength of consciousness to be the change, the peace, we want to see.

Care that ripples through our world.

Whenever the world feels divided, I turn to innocence.

We all awaken each day. This is what my morning bath might feel like as I walk in the presence and grace of Love.

I seem to experience the turning of the seasons in words. This year, I heard, "Be a witness." So, I am here listening and watching. I've found peace in stillness that doesn't measure time. It allows me to experience fullness without guilt that I should be doing something more, or different. Stillness calls me to stop and just BE.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh says, “We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb.” We have to be patient and buoyant amongst the tides that bring lasting wisdom. They ebb and flow in their own time and way.

I needed to recognize and claim the success that I discarded while processing the hurt.