After the Rush, the Choosing


“Purpose begins when the noise ends.”

After the holidays, something shifts.
The anticipation dissolves and the adrenaline fades, the rooms quiet.
What remains isn’t emptiness, it’s space.

This is the moment many people fall off a cliff.
The busyness stops, and without realizing it, so does the sense of direction.
But this pause is not a loss.
It’s a hand-off, one season releasing, another waiting to be chosen.

Purpose doesn’t arrive loudly here.
It waits for attention.

The season exhales.
The baton is offered.
Nothing rushes you,
but something invites you.

Purposeful Practice:
Today, choose one thing on purpose.
One walk, one pause, one sentence written.
Not because you should, but because you decided.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we explore how purpose is built through the smallest choices, not the biggest plans.

After the Noise, the Listening

Where seasons reach out to one another, the change is purposeful.

There is a moment after the holidays that often goes unnamed.
The lights dim, the schedules loosen and the energy makes a quick shift.
What remains is full of information.

The body is still processing.
The heart is still sorting.
The nervous system is recalibrating after intensity, whether that intensity came from joy, grief, connection, separation, or expectation.

This is not a time to decide who you are or where you’re going next.
This is a time to be most present and purposeful.

What you feed your mind right now matters.
What you allow into your presence matters.
What you replay, what you consume, what you dwell in, all of it becomes structure.

Not because it’s right or wrong,
but because attention builds architecture.

What you notice stabilizes.
What you resist persists.
What you listen to teaches you
where alignment already exists.

This is where renewal actually begins,
not with resolutions,
not with pressure,
not with fixing anything,
but with purpose.

Are you moving through the day with kindness or resistance?
Are you feeding your body nourishment or distraction?
Are your thoughts pulling you backward, or allowing you to arrive fully here?

The past is a foundation, not a destination.
Memory can guide, but it cannot lead.

You don’t step forward by erasing what was.
You step forward by using it as experience,
by choosing a slightly different turn,
by experimenting with one small shift.

A new path doesn’t announce itself loudly.
It opens quietly when you’re willing to listen.

The forest doesn’t explain itself.
It invites you to breathe
and discover what is already alive.

Today doesn’t ask you to change your life.
It asks you to notice it.

Gentle Practice:
Lower the volume, just a little.
Less input, more purpose.
Ask one simple question, without needing an answer:
What is available to me right now?

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we explore change and how small shifts in attention can quietly realign an entire season.

Entering the Next Season More Awake


“Purpose doesn’t push, it carries us forward.”

You didn’t miss anything.
You moved through what you needed.

This next season doesn’t require urgency, only awareness.


The baton passes to the next.
You take it, purposefully
without hurry,
without fear.

Purposeful Practice:
Acknowledge one way you’re different than two weeks ago.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-

The next two week series will surprise you. Do you have any requests for a series you may want a new perspective on?

“Love That Stays, Even at a Distance”

“Love doesn’t disappear when gatherings do.”

Even when families shift,
when invitations stop,

when distance separates us,
even when dynamics fracture.
Love still exists, its just quieter and holds a new shape.

It may no longer sit at the same table,
or follow the same traditions,
or move in the same patterns,
but it remains,
in the lessons learned,
in the wishes whispered,
in the hope that someday hearts soften
and paths cross with more grace than before.

Christmas is not measured by who shows up,
but by the love you carry with softness,
the peace you claim with each breath,
and the light you choose to reflect or deny.

The heart remembers
what the room forgets.
Love endures while transforming,
even here.

Gentle Practice:
Wrap your arms around yourself.
Say: “I am loved, even in the quiet.”

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow begins Week Four: The Renewal Path, how to move into the end of December with clarity, creativity, and emotional strength.

Sending you so much love!

“A Different Kind of Christmas”

“Tradition is not what keeps us alive, truth is.”

Christmas may not look how it once did.
The people may be different.
The table may be quieter.
The day may be simpler, softer, or more reflective.

But different is not lesser.
Different can be peaceful.
Different can be healing.
Different can become the very thing your heart needed.

Let this Christmas
be exactly what it is,
no pretending,
no performing,
only presence.

Gentle Practice:
Light a candle tonight.
Let it represent every form of love, near, far, lost, returned, or still becoming.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, on Christmas Day, we speak of love that survives distance.

“Belonging in New Places”

“When old places and gatherings close, the heart does not have to close with it.”

You may not sit at the table you once knew.
But that doesn’t mean you are without a place.
Belonging can be rediscovered in surprising forms,
in a quiet morning with someone who loves you,
in a friend who says “come over,”
in a walk by the lake,
in a new ritual that feels more like freedom than loss.

When belonging shifts, it asks you to shift too.
To create, not cling.
To build, not beg.
To make room for the life that is becoming yours now.

Belonging is not a location,
it’s a light you learn
to carry in you.

Gentle Practice:
Choose one new ritual for Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.
Let it be something small but meaningful.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we look at the courage to make Christmas different without sadness sitting at a new table.

“Invisible Pressures at the Holiday Table”

“Sometimes a single request reshapes the whole room.”

Family gatherings are delicate ecosystems.
One person’s discomfort can shift the guest list,
the energy,
the seating,
the invitations,
and the invisible lines between who comes and who doesn’t.

This isn’t always cruelty.
Often it’s fear, old wounds, unhealed history, or a longing for control.
And the host, trying to honor everyone, may not see the quiet heartbreak created at the edges.
The intention isn’t to exclude,
But the impact is real.

Even gentle rooms
have fault lines.
Even warm hearts
can accidentally cast shadows.

Gentle Practice:
Breathe in compassion, for every perspective, including your own.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we explore choosing new forms of belonging when old ones shift.

“Standing Outside a Circle You Once Belonged To”

“Being left out hurts where you once had a place, but new places create new experiences, where inspiration is inviting you.”

There is a unique ache in being gently, or suddenly, uninvited.
Not because you crave the event,
but because you remember when you were part of the rhythm,
part of the laughter,
part of the room.

Sometimes the shift happens quietly,
a new voice in the family,
a new alliance,
a new dynamic that rearranges where everyone fits.
You may not be rejected maliciously,
just reshuffled without warning.

The door may have closed,
but your worth did not.
Some circles break
so new paths can open.

Gentle Practice:
Place your hand on your chest and say:
“I still belong, to myself, to my life, to my path, inspiration is inviting me to show up.”

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we explore the unseen pressures that shape a holiday table from the inside.

Tags: belonging, exclusion, emotional healing, holiday grief
Category: emotional wellness

“The Heart in the Middle”

“Some people carry the weight of wanting everyone to feel welcome.”

Every family has someone who tries to create harmony,
who opens their home,
sets the table,
holds the history,
and hopes the room will feel whole.

But even the kindest heart cannot see every fracture.
They cannot feel every tension, every silent ripple, every unspoken ache.
They simply love the way they know how,
by inviting, including, and believing that presence can soften old stories.

Be gentle with the one
who tries to gather all the threads,
their hands hold more than we see.

Gentle Practice:
Think of one “heart in the middle” you know.
Send them gratitude in silence.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we acknowledge the people who find themselves outside the circle, even when they never meant to be.

“When Together Isn’t the Same Anymore”

“Togetherness changes shape when life changes everyone inside it.

Holidays rarely stay the same forever.
People grow, shift, return, leave, rebuild, repair, or unravel.
Sometimes the table expands, and sometimes it contracts.
And sometimes, the meaning of “being together” evolves into something quieter, smaller, or entirely different.

There is no failure in this.
Just the natural reshaping of family as life stretches everyone differently.
When togetherness changes, it doesn’t mean love is gone, only that love is learning a new language.

Together isn’t lost,
it’s just becoming
something we haven’t named yet.

Gentle Practice:
Name one thing that has changed, and one thing that hasn’t.
Let both have their place.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we explore the heart of the host, the one who tries to hold everyone without losing themselves.