A Moment in Time
As I sit to write this, I’m surrounded by the little things that bring me joy: my 10-year-young rescue pup Lucy curled by my side, college football humming in the background, the sunshine warming my cheeks, my bare feet grounded, and a new scarf from one of my favorite locally owned businesses - Society Collection wrapped around my shoulders.
Right now, I feel at peace.
But a few hours ago… not so much.
My mind was spinning, my stomach tight, my body tense. Doubt, fear, and that old familiar voice in my head came rushing in - you know the one. She says things like:
“You’re not good enough. You’re an imposter. Who do you think you are?”
She’s harsh, judgmental, and honestly… mean.
While I know better now, while I know she’s not me - she still shows up. Loud. Convincing. Uninvited.
But here’s what I’ve learned:
Her voice, as painful and irritating as it can be, always comes bearing a message.
She shows up at a threshold. When something’s shifting. When a door is closing, and another is quietly opening.
“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.”
- Ecclesiastes 3:1
Whose Timing Am I Trusting?
I have this little prayer I whisper at night before I sleep. A kind of micro gratitude ritual. I thank God for the roots He’s growing beneath me. The foundation He’s building. The house he's constructing. The door He’s opening.
And then I say:
“I will meet you there when I’m ready. In your timing, not mine.”
Because when I try to rush things, force clarity, force momentum it creates chaos. It tightens my grip. And that’s when I spin out.
But when I slow down, loosen the grip, and breathe… I return to the pace He has set for me. I return to peace.
“Spiritual growth involves giving up the stories of your past so the universe can write a new one.” - Marianne Williamson
The Work Isn’t Over (And That’s Okay)
This season, I’ve felt old patterns surfacing. Emotions I thought I’d already worked through. Stories I thought I had put to rest.
Maybe you’ve felt it too - the discomfort of revisiting what we thought we had healed. But here’s the truth: healing isn’t linear. The work is never fully done. And those messy, tender moments don’t mean we’re back at square one. They just mean we’re human. Evolving.
So, what do we do when we feel stuck between who we were and who we’re headed?
I believe we walk through the door together…hand in hand.
Interrupt the Pattern
Saturday morning, I knew I needed to change something. I got outside. I prayed. I went to some of my favorite places, saw people who feel like home.
I walked into The Press and caught an author doing a live reading - raw, vulnerable, inspiring.
My heart softened.
I had a delicious apple + carrot + beet juice from Roots, bought fresh flowers, grabbed dog treats, and ended up at Society Collection where out of the blue the owner mentioned my children's book, Song of Friendship and invited me to Hunt + Gather, a local vendor pop-up.
Wait… what?
She thinks my book belongs at her market?
That moment reminded me: when I get out of my own way, life shows up for me. God shows up.
He opens the door.
All I have to do is walk through it.
Seasonal Soul Care
What’s helping me lately, maybe it’ll help you too:
Get outside in nature. Bare feet. Bare hands.
Journal: brain-dump your heart out. Let it all spill out.
Breathe. Stretch. Simple. Deep. Slow.
Change your environment even for 30 minutes.
Acts of kindness: smile at a stranger, volunteer, compliment freely.
Hydrate - warm lemon water is my go-to first thing every morning.
Most importantly: be really kind to yourself. Like, best-friend-level kind.
Closing Thoughts
If you’ve felt out of balance lately… like yourself but not quite… please know you’re not alone.
Get curious about what’s showing up. Sit with it. Offer yourself compassion and grace.
“This too shall pass.”
Maybe, just maybe, it’s here to teach you something. To prepare you for what’s next. To walk you through that door.
Thank you for witnessing me - just as I am.
I’m here for you, just as you are.
Until next time..
With love,
Angie
