To the One Who Feels Everything, All at Once

Dearest friend,

There is a storm inside of you too, isn’t there? A vast, swirling sea of everything. Loss and love. Fear and hope. Grief and the longing for safety. The desire to do something. All the things, everything, all at once. It moves so fast, so loudly, that it has no name. It just is. And so, here you are, standing in the middle of it, unsure of how to find stillness.

Of what to even do next.

Let me tell you something that no storm wants you to know: stillness isn’t found by fighting the waves. It is found by surrendering to them, one breath at a time. I am not asking you to dive into the depths of your pain all at once. I am asking you to sit on the shore of it and breathe. To let the ache exist without asking it to explain itself.

It is overwhelming because you are carrying the weight of what once was, what might be, and what will never be—all at the same time. No wonder your body feels heavy. No wonder your heart feels tired. Yet hear this:

You are not the storm, my love.

You are the sky that holds it.

The vast, limitless expanse that has room for every feeling, every loss, and every question. Even now, safety lives within you. It is quiet and small, maybe just a whisper for now, but it’s there.

Start by noticing the moments when your breath softens, the tiny seconds when you feel even a sliver of ease. That is safety. It doesn’t demand you to be anything other than what you are in this moment. And yes, it will take time to feel it more fully. Safety isn’t something you build overnight; it’s something you return to over and over again, like a favorite song or the way sunlight filters through a window in the early morning.

You do not need to make big decisions right now. You do not need to have answers. Simply live in the questions. What you need is your own kindness. What you need is space to feel without needing to fix. What you need is to remember that you are whole, even in the brokenness.

So take your time, dear friend. Sit with the pieces of yourself and hold them gently. Let your heart speak without interruption. And when you’re ready, let yourself move—not forward, but inward. Because the safety you seek, the ground you ache for, has always been inside of you.

You are the home you’ve been looking for.

With unwavering belief in all parts of you,

Practice Postscript

• Reflection:

What would it feel like to trust that I am the safest place I can be?

• Practice:

Place one hand on your heart and one on your belly. As you breathe, imagine each inhale creating a soft, glowing light within you. Visualize that light expanding, filling every corner of your body with warmth and safety. Choose to do this as often as it supports you to connect with your inner safety.

• Living In The Question:

What is the smallest act of kindness I can offer myself right now?