It’s been a year since I last wrote here, a year of navigating the changes motherhood brought and finding my way back to myself. In this post, I open up about the challenges of postpartum, the moments that felt heavy, and how I began to rediscover my joy and my voice.
When it feels too much, remember it’s your presence on
this planet that lifts us up.
When it feels too much, remember you are more than enough.
Because without you, we can’t be us.
A planet remembering love.
When it feels too much, trust.
Things have a way of working out.
When it feels too much, know you aren’t alone.
You arrived with a team of guides to help you walk this planet home.
When it feels too much, rest your heart.
Ours beat in gratitude for your willingness to not give up.
Most people who resonate with my work also resonate with the term light worker, someone who knows they are here to bring light to this world. Though I usually lean away from that term, when terrorist attacks and other world tragedies happen, being a lightworker becomes my reason to get out of bed. As someone with awareness of energy and the awareness for my body and mind's ability to transmute pain into hope, negativity into positivity, I have a duty to get conscious about my mindset and actions when tragedy hits. As someone drawn to this site, you do too. Being a lightworker means being a light despite the pain; it's easy to be positive and mindful when things are going well, it's a lot harder when your heart, mind, body and soul are grieving. And that's what I want to talk about today.
Read More
