“Hope holds us when we cannot move, but water teaches us how to move again

Rain never asks permission to fall.
It arrives when the air can no longer hold what it’s carrying.
Not as punishment.
Not as collapse.
But as release.

Water understands something we often forget:
nothing clears without movement.

There are seasons when hope is all we have.
When direction feels unreachable.
When answers refuse to form.
When the body freezes and the mind circles, waiting for something, anything, to change.

Hope can be a lifeline in those moments.
It keeps us breathing when clarity hasn’t arrived.
It steadies us inside uncertainty.

But hope alone can also keep us suspended,
standing still, eyes lifted outward,
waiting for resolution to arrive from somewhere else.

Rain doesn’t wait like that.

Rain moves through.

It washes what has been held too tightly.
It softens what has become rigid with fear.
It carries away residue we didn’t know we were storing.
Tears do the same.
So does breath.
So does hydration.
So does allowing emotion to pass instead of calcify.

Water doesn’t erase the past,
it reveals what’s been buried beneath it.

When life feels paralyzing,
when anxiety locks the body in place,
when trauma makes the future feel unreachable,
hope may be the hand we cling to,
but movement is what teaches us how to stand again.

Not forced movement.
Not answers.
Not solutions.

Just the willingness to let something flow.

This next season isn’t about finding direction all at once.
It’s about letting what’s been held finally move.
So what’s real can appear.
So what’s grounded can take shape.
So hope can become something you walk with,
not something holding you in place.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
In the days ahead, we’ll listen to what water teaches,
about release, renewal, and the quiet strength that returns after the rain.