I Didn’t Feel Like Writing This Week
I’ll be honest—this week, I didn’t feel like writing at all. It’s been a doozy. More changes. More upheaval. Another loss I can’t publicly speak about yet. Just layers of raw, real emotions, stacked on top of each other like I’m supposed to carry them with grace when half the time I feel like I’m barely treading water.
But I reminded myself of something important: consistency matters. Even when the steps feel small. Even when it feels like I have nothing profound or polished to offer. Writing about my struggles, or my adventures in the kitchen, or the little victories—those things ground me. And maybe they remind someone else to keep going, too.
Inside my own mind, I’ve been giving myself constant pep talks:
Breathe. Slow down. Do better. Be the example.
And Lord knows I don’t always succeed. I miss things. I stumble. I screw up. But I am trying. I am healing, grieving, learning, and growing. And honestly? I’m proud of me.
I keep reminding myself to meditate, to be still, to move my body, to eat what nourishes me, to stretch, to breathe deeply, to stay present. Some days it feels like sooooo much. And this week especially, my mind was rebelling. I didn’t want to write my blog. I didn’t want to get a colonoscopy. I didn’t want to watch my kid leave to go help a grieving family. But I did all of it—and more.
I’m still figuring out what works for me as I get older, as life shifts under my feet, as new seasons roll in whether I ask for them or not. I hope my kids see that I’m trying to be better, to stay healthy, to keep growing. I still have some habits to break, but I’m getting there.
Halloween came and went, and I missed my mom with an ache I couldn’t shake. I want to ask her how she carried the heavy load all those years. She made it look effortless. And she was beautiful while she did it. I miss her smile and that little cackle she had. I can almost hear her telling me she left her burdens in God’s hands—that her faith, tested and steady, is what kept her standing.
She’d tell me I’m smart. That I’ll figure things out. That my instincts are good, and I should trust them. And I do still hear her voice sometimes, softer now, but still clear. I’m grateful for that. Grateful for her.
So here’s my reminder to you—and to myself:
Do your best out there.
Be yourself.
Trust your instincts.
Keep moving.
Love and Light, y’all.
Mothersense and Miscellaneous 