Month: November 2025

“Reclaiming Your Space”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Not every energy belongs in your body, release what isn’t yours.”

Being around others, especially family, means absorbing stories, moods, expectations, and histories that don’t belong to you. After gatherings, it’s common to feel heavy or scattered without knowing why. This is not weakness, it’s the sensitivity that lets you care deeply.

Reclaiming yourself is not selfish, it’s necessary, return to the practices that ground you: a long walk, a hot shower or bath, sitting by a window in silence. You get to sift through what lingers on and give back what was never yours to carry.

Exhale the pieces
that weren’t yours to hold.
Call your spirit back,
gently and boldly, with love.

Gentle practice:
Stand outside and breathe out slowly three times.
On the third breath, imagine releasing every emotion that isn’t yours.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we’ll explore finances, expectations, and the pressure December often brings.

“The Emotions That Arrive Late”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

 “Sometimes the heart speaks only when the room is empty.”

After everyone goes home, emotions come out of hiding.
The tears you didn’t shed.
The questions sometimes left unanswered.
Thoughts not expressed and left beneath polite smiles.
This is emotion finding its way.
It’s your heart speaking now that the world has quieted enough for you to hear it.

Let the emotions come without judgment, there is no need to categorize them. You do not need to justify them ,just feel them, name them, honor them. They are part of the story of your becoming.

When the noise dissolves,
emotions can rise.
Let it speak,
you can hear it now.

Gentle practice:
Take five minutes alone and put your hand on your heart.
Ask quietly: “What did I feel yesterday that I didn’t have space to feel?”

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we’ll talk about reclaiming your space after being around energy that doesn’t match your own.

“The Day After Noise”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Some hearts recover in quiet, long after the house grows still.”

The day after a holiday holds its own truth.
Not everyone wakes up filled with joy.
Some wake with relief.
Some with grief.
Some with an exhaustion that has no name.
The world rarely talks about the emotional hangover, the tender ache of navigating rooms where energy collided, memories stirred, and old stories brushed against new versions of you.

Let today be soft. Let the noise dissolve. Let your breath come back home. There is nothing wrong with needing recovery. Sensitivity is not weakness; it is the gift of noticing what your soul can and cannot hold.

Let the quiet reclaim you.
Let the stillness realign your chest.
Not all healing is grand,
some of it is simply rest.

Gentle practice:
Drink warm water with lemon or sea salt.
Let your nervous system recalibrate.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we’ll explore what to do with the emotions that linger after gatherings, especially the ones you may not have expected.

“What We Carry, What We Lay Down” (Weekly Wrap-Up)

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

 “Growth doesn’t erase the ache, it gives it a softer place to land.”

This week has revealed what many endure quietly: fractured families, mismatched energies, financial strain, the weight of expectation, the longing for peace. And yet through every truth runs a single thread, your right to honor yourself while still holding compassion for others. No one gets through life untouched by heartache. But you can choose to grow through it instead of shrinking beneath it.

Growth doesn’t mean you don’t cry. It doesn’t mean you don’t wish things were different. It simply means you refuse to define yourself by what fractured. You’ve learned to breathe where others collapse, to step back without shame, to love without needing a seat at every table. You’re not avoiding life, you’re choosing the version of life that keeps you whole.

Lay down what drains,
carry what lifts.
Let truth be your lantern
in all of winter’s shifts.

Gentle practice:
Tonight, write down one thing you’re releasing and one thing you’re carrying forward. Both are part of your becoming.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow begins Week Two, a deeper walk into holiday grace, emotional safety, connection on your terms, and redefining what “family” can mean.

“The Permission to Celebrate Differently”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Your way of celebrating is not wrong, just yours.”

There is a quiet courage in choosing new rhythms, not everyone wants large gatherins or crowds. Not everyone wants noise or has the capacity to to host. Not everyone wants to stay until midnight or travel long distances. Celebration that costs your peace is not celebration, it’s performance.

You can love your family and friends and still choose shorter visits, smaller circles, or a different day entirely. You can say no to what collapses your nervous system and yes to what nourishes your soul. You can create holidays that feel like healing instead of acting.

Celebrate in your language,
the rhythm only you know.
Joy is more honest
when it’s allowed to grow.

Gentle practice:
Choose how you want to celebrate this year by adding one thing new to experience without resistance but instead observation, let wisdom create new insights to build upon new ideas and allow courage always to be honored. There is no growth or knowing more when change is resented and resisted by anyone. It is within celebration we honor someone or something important to us, when it becomes less than that, change is required.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we gather everything we’ve explored this week and lay down what no longer fits.

“Traditions That Don’t Break People”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Traditions are supportive, they were never meant to break you.“

Many families cling to rituals because “it’s what we’ve always done.” But people evolve. Finances change. Relationships shift. Energy levels rise and fall. A tradition that worked fifteen years ago may not be kind today. Renewal is not disrespect, it’s wisdom.

Reinventing the holidays doesn’t erase the past; it creates room for the present. Affordable games, shared dishes, heartfelt notes, gratitude jars, giving something you have (maybe even a sentimental family heirloom) to another person who loves it too. Share the gift of its presence and memories without its ownership but instead a loved memory, this helps change fear of loss and attachement to honor and appreciation and helps us to learn to release what is external and grow deeper internally. (this also requires you to let go of the expectation of what another does, it is a practice in giving fully.)

These honor everyone’s reality without demanding uniformity. Joy grows best where pressure dissolves.

Let tradition breathe,
let the seasons evolve.
Make space for new rituals
where every heart is solved.

Gentle practice:
Introduce one new tradition that feels lighter, simpler, or more inclusive this year.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we’ll talk about the freedom to celebrate differently, without explaining yourself.

“The Cost of Celebration”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Joy should never send you into debt.”

Many people quietly panic this time of year, credit cards, expectations, pressure to match what others can buy. Some overspend to avoid shame. Some hide their struggle. Some hosts resent carrying the financial weight. All of it is human. None of it is talked about enough.

The truth is the holidays were never meant to bankrupt anyone’s spirit or wallet. Gifts don’t need price tags to be meaningful. Memories don’t require money to be made. Connection doesn’t have to cost pressure or money, it can be a deposit into the depth of a moment.

The richest gifts are simple,
a story shared,
a kindness spoken,
a moment held with care.

Gentle practice:
Set a personal spending limit for the season.
Honor it like self-respect.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we’ll explore traditions that uplift instead of exhaust.

“When Quiet Souls Step In and Out”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

 “Some of us love the gathering… and some of us love the gathering with a doorway.”

For sensitive or introverted hearts, long gatherings aren’t a sign of love, they are a marathon of energy. Stepping outside for a breath doesn’t mean you don’t want to be there. Leaving early doesn’t mean you don’t care. You are allowed to honor your design without apologizing for it.

The world has taught us that devotion looks loud and long. But some of the most loyal souls show love in quiet bursts of presence, fifteen minutes of full-hearted attention, an honest conversation on the porch, a soft goodbye before the overwhelm hits. This is love too.

Some hearts shine in the center,
others glow near the door.
One is not better,
they’re just different ways to pour.

Gentle practice:
Plan your “exit without shame.”
Decide ahead of time when you’ll leave, breathe, or take space, and let it be holy.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow we’ll talk about the cost of celebration, and the pressure money brings.

“The Rooms We Cannot Share”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

 

“Some rooms are not ours to walk into, at least not right now.”

Holidays create an illusion that everyone must be together at the same table. But the truth is some rooms aren’t safe yet, some conversations aren’t healed yet, and some reunions would only reopen wounds. This doesn’t make anyone bad. It simply means hearts are growing at different speeds.

There is strength in knowing when to step back instead of forcing something that isn’t ready. There is wisdom in letting others have their own gatherings while you create a gentler rhythm elsewhere. Peace is not found in pretending, only in honoring what is true.

Not every doorway needs crossing,
not every circle must close.
Sometimes love stands in the hallway,
waiting for safer rooms to open.

Gentle practice:
Give yourself permission to decline an invitation without guilt.
Say: “I’m honoring what my heart can hold right now.”

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we’ll talk about the ones who step in and out, the quiet souls who love differently.

“Where Distance Becomes Gentle”

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Not all distance is punishment; sometimes it’s the safest place to breathe.”

There are seasons when families fracture into separate rooms, separate holidays, separate traditions. It hurts. It confuses. It questions your worth. You wonder if you did something unforgivable or if love simply misplaced itself along the years. But sometimes distance isn’t rejection, it’s growth unfolding unevenly. Some people aren’t ready to sit together yet, and that truth doesn’t have to harden your heart.

Healing rarely begins in the middle of chaos. Sometimes it happens in quiet kitchens, long walks, RVs parked outside the noise, or in the hands of those who learned to love from afar. You can grieve the closeness you imagined while honoring the peace you’ve found. Both truths can live in the same breath.

Distance can soften edges
where closeness once cut deep.
Let the space become a kindness,
a place for hearts to sleep.

Gentle practice:
Take a few minutes today to bless the space, not the separation.
Say: “May every heart grow at its own pace.”

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow we’ll explore the rooms we cannot share, and why that is sometimes holy.
(This piece begins a two-week series on navigating holidays with truth, energy, boundaries, finances, and heart.)