A love letter to myself
And to you
Today, I share a raw and slightly edited love letter I wrote to myself on Sunday morning after listening to Elizabeth Gilbert share her latest Substack offering, Letters from Love, where she shares love letters and guidance on writing your own. It is a journey into love, compassion, and radical self-kindness. If you are not familiar with Elizabeth Gilbert, I highly recommend you seek her out, and if you are, when you have a moment, maybe you, too, might resonate with what she shares and offers. Thank you, Elizabeth Gilbert, for spreading your kindness and love letter practice!
Writing is a form of creative expression that we all have access to. It is a form of art crafted by the artist (you and me) in our most authentic form. Words that move through us and for others to see are an act of service to ourselves, the art, and the world.
When we write what is true and vulnerable, someone somewhere will benefit and resonate. You are not alone; we are all navigating this human experience together. May my letter of love resonate with you, remind you to be kind to yourself, and that you are doing the best you can.
Dear love,
My little warrior. My soldier of love and wisdom. The doves are cooing with cues of knowledge, a gentle invitation to nurture yourself with loving kindness. It is a sign you are not alone, and those you love are never far. A wink that the universe is listening, and the animal spirits are watching and waiting for you to slow down, pay attention, and savor the present moment.
The words of Mynx (my mentor) have been repeating since our session Friday, telling me to double down on gentleness towards myself. A way of being that I do not always remember to award, but thankfully, she does and reminds me when I forget.
To be kind has not always come effortlessly, my dear. When exhausted and deprived, the repetitive outdated protective patterns quickly reappear, and thoughts that I am not doing enough and should know more, be better, or be further along exalts.
It does not support the open, loving, and kind way I wish to be with myself and others. It does not create a safe and nourishing space to rest. And that, my love, is all your body asks of you.
It's been a harsh year filled with turbulent and stormy seasons with pockets of sunshine, blue sky, freedom, and ease. But your body is tired, and you've been through significant loss, not one, but two within ten days of each other.
Your greatest fear came true when Jax died. You are living and breathing a reality you dreaded. It is hard, especially when the safety of the unconditional love he gave you feels lost now that his body is gone.
You are trying to find equilibrium in an unbalanced reality.
Two anchors swept back to sea to the vast ocean, leading me to find stabilization and ground without some accustomed ways I am used to. It has been a relearning, a rebeing in a less beautiful world without my dad and Jax.
You've been trying to find steadiness, meaning, and grace in a drought, a dry inner landscape that feels bleak, uncomfortable, and disorienting.
It is not your fault the vertigo manifested the way that it did. You were unaware your good intentions would push you into misalignment, causing symptoms below the skin to surface. What you are learning through this experience now is invaluable.
You did a good job this last year. Truly fantastic work as you keep your head above water even when drowning, even when treading in the cold without the security of their bodies to keep you afloat.
Just like their love, the grief lives inside of you. It pours from your eyes as you write. You are not out of the woods. Not with grief, and maybe you never will be.
Years of grief accumulated, innocently built up, not felt, expressed, honored, or acknowledged. But also, again, it's not your fault; you did not have the skills or capacity to meet grief where it was.
Look at you now; you continue to expand and lean into grief with presence, care, skill, ability, feeling, healing, and releasing a lifetime of grief buildup.
The levies broke, and the water came rushing out. Still, you have the choice and agency to build your raft and to pull back when it's too intense. It's been a severe year and challenging month physically and emotionally, so pull back. Continue to build and craft your raft and learn to float.
There is no timeline, only the pressure you put on yourself. You only know what you know now. Don't beat yourself up for not knowing or having the skill, practice, or resolve to do what you didn't do yesterday, last year, 5, 10 years, or more ago. You did your best with the wisdom, will, and capacity you had.
Give yourself space and permission to rest and restore, and let it work its magic. Don't be so hard on your heart, body, and mind. Offer kindness and care. You know what you know now, and more will come, and I trust that. I believe in you.
Your grief will remain alongside the love. You are unwounding, harmonizing, and aligning with what matters most. Your dreams will become a reality. The timeline is unknown.
Rest and self-care are a priority. As you know through experience, it is the key to unknown potential and possibility, connection, compassion, curiosity, and creativity. It is the pathway to spaciousness and clarity, inherent worthiness and value, leading you closer to your true nature. It is the course of truth, freedom, and peace.
xo, me
Prompt
Listen to Elizabeth Gilbert in her first post on LETTERS FROM LOVE.
Then, if you feel called, I invite you to write a love letter to yourself.
I and the Letter from Love community would love to hear about your journey and experience with writing a love letter to yourself. Reply, comment, or leave a Note and share your letter or experience.
Free Online Writing Workshops for Women
I am hosting two free writing opportunities for women to explore. You can read more about the details for each workshop below:
Grief Writing Workshop for Women: Thursday, September 14, 6:00 – 7:30 p.m. PST.
Workshop details HERE and enroll HERE.
Intuitive Writing for Women: Sunday, September 17, 9:30 – 11:00 a.m. PST.
Workshop details HERE and enroll HERE.
I'm looking forward to facilitating these workshops again, and I hope you can join. You will love the healing and uplifting energy that transpires.
Small Group Online Writing Opportunities
Intuitive Writing for Women
Sunday, October 8, 15, 22, 29, November 5 and 12. Time: 9:30 – 11:00 a.m. PST.
Go on a 6-week guided journey to a safe place within yourself.
Learn how to become more conscious and creative — even if you don't have experience writing.
We all have a story within us. Practice being brave with your voice without edit or perfecting and fear of judgment.
Go to the website to discover all the info you need and register.
Grief Writing for Women
Thursday, October 5, 12, 19, and 26. Time: 6:00 – 7:30 p.m. PST
Go on a 4-week guided journey to a safe place within yourself.
Learn how to write your grief — even if you don't have experience writing.
Tell the truth about what it's like to be you and to live with grief and loss without edit, shame, or fear of judgment.
This series is perfect for any woman who has experienced loss or grief (past or present), is looking for a safe space to feel and heal, is curious about writing as a self-care practice, and is looking for a weekly touchstone and time dedicated to themselves.
Here is a brochure with all the info you need to learn more and register.