sunday thoughts 💌
[ on authentic freedom and living ]
as i think about how i began my day, i feel a sense of peace and certainty. i am where i’m supposed to be—doing what i’m meant to do, being who i’m meant to be. even though i laid down to rest at 3 a.m., i allowed myself a slow rising. not perfect. not rushed. but just right for me.
also, i broke a glass today. i was reaching for it to make my caramel iced coffee, and it slipped—shattered all over my bookshelf and the floor. yet somehow… i didn’t flinch. i didn’t spiral. i didn’t make it mean more than it was. i just swept it up. cleaned the surface. found a new way to have my coffee.
simple. sacred, even.
because if i had been feeling off—questioning my place in this season, doubting my path—that glass might’ve been the thing to send me over the edge. but today, i was able to pivot. to breathe. to carry on with grace.
the sunlight eased its way through the blinds—soft, golden, slow. a reflection of how i want to live. how i want to rise. how i want to create.
i began week 11 of the artist’s way today. it’s wild that i’ve come this far. that i’ve consistently shown up for myself, every single week. it feels like being poured into with water from a crisp, holy fountain—refreshing, clarifying, reminding me of who i’ve always been underneath the noise.
a section in week’s reading? acceptance. not the kind that comes with resignation. but the kind that requires reverence. curiosity. honesty. the kind that says: this is who i am right now, and this is what i truly need. not what i assumed. not what i was taught. not what’s trending. but the real, raw me—becoming again and again.
i’m always evolving. always shedding. always returning home. and creativity… it’s the sacred thread. the one that tugs at my heart when i forget who i am. the one that leads me back to truth.
here are some truths i highlighted within the section—
a nine-to-five drains me of energy and leaves me unable to create
i must experiment with what works for me
i have to free myself from determining my value and the value of my work by my work’s market value
as an artist, my credibility lies with me, God, and my work
i cannot plan a career to unfold in a sensible direction dictated by cash flow and marketing strategies
as an artist, i write whether i think it’s any good or not
as an artist, my self-respect comes from doing the work
reading those again now… it feels like something sacred was revealed. like my soul sat beside me and said, see? this is what you’ve known all along. freedom isn’t in the strategy. it’s in the surrender. my life isn’t meant to look like anyone else’s. it’s meant to feel like mine—because it is.
clarity is sobering and soft. it makes sense why certain paths felt so heavy—why traditional structures made my creativity shrink. because i was never meant to build a life that only made sense on paper. i was meant to build a life that is my truth.
a life led by intuition, sustained by trust, and filled with art. a life where glass can break, and i don’t break with it. a life where sunlight can slide across the floor and remind me:
i am free. i am held. i am here.
and that’s more than enough. because there are version of me still being shaped. softened. strengthened. stretched. and the beauty of it all is… i’m not rushing her anymore.
so yeah. i broke a glass. but i didn’t break. i pivoted. i received the lesson.
and i’m still here, rising—slowly, sweetly, fully.
happy so(u)l writing sunday.
i’d love to hear what this brings up for you. feel free to comment, share your own musings, or just say hi. i’m always grateful for the quiet company.
until next time. ♡
