The Antidote Is Within

There’s a kind of expansion that doesn’t look like more doing, more chasing, or more becoming.

It looks like shedding.

Softening.

Listening to what’s already been whispering inside for years.

People ask all the time—

What do you take?

What do you eat?

What do you think about this herb or that cleanse?

But the deeper truth is this:

The best health advice I can ever offer

Is to turn down the noise

And ask yourself…

How do you feel?

Are you rested or are you rushing on borrowed energy?

Do you move your body because it brings you life,

Or because you’re trying to fix what was never broken?

Do you fall into sleep like a prayer

or collapse into it like a last resort?

How much of your day is spent

in silence,

in breath,

in the untangling of thought from truth?

Do you scrub your skin like punishment

or like ceremony—

exfoliating the layers not just of yesterday’s dust,

but of the weight you’ve carried too long?

We hold the antidote inside.

Not in a bottle,

Not in someone else’s method or miracle,

But in our ability to return

to presence,

to rhythm,

to the quiet knowing we’ve always had.

There’s a lot out there telling us how to feel better,

how to do more,

how to chase a version of beauty that was never our own.

But what if we’re not meant to do more?

What if we’re meant to realign where we give our effort—

To stop over-performing in some areas

and under-nourishing others?

What if your wholeness doesn’t need to be earned,

only remembered?

We are not trends.

We are not opinions.

We are not before-and-after stories.

We are stories still being told,

and no one else gets to hold the pen.

Expansion is personal.

It begins with small choices that honor what’s real:

a breath,

a stretch,

a kind word to the mirror,

a walk without your phone,

a plate of vibrant food grown in soil, not manufactured in labs.

Play your instrument.

Take the trip.

Paint what you see in your dreams.

But do it because something inside you calls you forward—

not because an algorithm says you should.

You don’t need to change who you are.

You just need to come back to yourself.

And from there,

everything expands.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-

The Waters We Come From

“Time didn’t take me, it grew me.”

~Kerri Elizabeth~

Time moves like water—fluid, steady, and often unnoticed until we stop to feel its depth.

One day, you’re raising four children under one roof. The next, you’re watching them raise their own—each carving their unique path through the landscape of life. Some close, some far, some seen only in spirit. You could never have imagined it all unfolding this way. At their age, the future felt like a myth. Now, I live it daily. Not by reaching for what’s ahead, but by anchoring myself fully in today.

As I sit quietly with a fresh breeze brushing across the lake, I’m reminded how water has always spoken to me. It’s been a teacher. A comforter. A mirror. From floods in childhood to moonlit swims and the scent of salt and minerals clinging to my skin—it all remains, floating in memory.

Each body of water holds a story. Each ripple, a reflection of growth, grief, grace.

Sitting atop a mountain, a lake looks small. But in it, it feels endless. Life is like that. From above, a season looks brief. From within, it can feel infinite.

I think of the nourishment the Earth offers us—the way the water heals, the soil grounds, the sun energizes, and the breeze renews. The wisdom of nature is a retreat for the soul, and a reminder that healing is not always something we do, but something we allow.

Where the Waters Teach

I am the parent,

of the parents,

once the child,

now the still shore.

Where water once rushed

through muddy childhood floods,

now it moves through

quiet lines on my face—

each one etched with memory.

Some children are near,

some carried by the wind,

and one

rides the current between realms.

I don’t reach forward anymore.

I dwell.

In birdsong.

In sunlight through cedar.

In the mineral kiss of the lake.

Time didn’t take me,

it grew me.

And here I float,

held by waters

that knew me before I knew myself.

The Waters We Come From

“Time didn’t take me, it grew me.”

~Kerri Elizabeth~

Time moves like water—fluid, steady, and often unnoticed until we stop to feel its depth.

One day, you’re raising four children under one roof. The next, you’re watching them raise their own—each carving their unique path through the landscape of life. Some close, some far, some seen only in spirit. You could never have imagined it all unfolding this way. At their age, the future felt like a myth. Now, I live it daily. Not by reaching for what’s ahead, but by anchoring myself fully in today.

As I sit quietly with a fresh breeze brushing across the lake, I’m reminded how water has always spoken to me. It’s been a teacher. A comforter. A mirror. From floods in childhood to moonlit swims and the scent of salt and minerals clinging to my skin—it all remains, floating in memory.

Each body of water holds a story. Each ripple, a reflection of growth, grief, grace.

Sitting atop a mountain, a lake looks small. But in it, it feels endless. Life is like that. From above, a season looks brief. From within, it can feel infinite.

I think of the nourishment the Earth offers us—the way the water heals, the soil grounds, the sun energizes, and the breeze renews. The wisdom of nature is a retreat for the soul, and a reminder that healing is not always something we do, but something we allow.

Where the Waters Teach

I am the parent,

of the parents,

once the child,

now the still shore.

Where water once rushed

through muddy childhood floods,

now it moves through

quiet lines on my face—

each one etched with memory.

Some children are near,

some carried by the wind,

and one

rides the current between realms.

I don’t reach forward anymore.

I dwell.

In birdsong.

In sunlight through cedar.

In the mineral kiss of the lake.

Time didn’t take me,

it grew me.

And here I float,

held by waters

that knew me before I knew myself.

What If We Had No Mirrors? A Reflection on Aging, Beauty, and Living Naturally

Yesterday, I saw myself in a way I hadn’t before. It was a sunny afternoon, and I was with my daughter—nearly 40 now, though I could still feel myself walking in her age. We were at a sprawling plant nursery, checking out with our treasures of green, when I looked up and caught a glimpse in a mirror near the counter.

There I was—me. But not the me I feel inside. Instead, a version touched by time, by sun, by the softness that aging brings. I stood there for a moment, surprised. Not saddened. Not shamed. Just… aware.

What If We Had No Mirrors?

It hit me: I’m almost 60. But I don’t believe in “aging” in the way society speaks of it. I believe in evolving. In learning. In living closer to the earth. I don’t wear makeup—not because I’m against it, but because I love the way nature feels on my skin. I love wind-swept hair, the kiss of sunshine, and the medicine of plants.

What would life be like if we had no mirrors?

If our reflection only came from rippling water, or from the way someone’s eyes lit up when we smiled? If we were reflected only by the kindness we gave, the presence we offered, and the energy we carried?

Would we worry so much about wrinkles or wild strands of hair? Would we still feel the need to cover, conceal, or enhance? Or would we simply be—unfiltered, untamed, and entirely enough?

Aging as Evolution, Not Decline

That moment reminded me: I want my reflection to be a thank you, not a judgment.

A recognition of how far I’ve come, of how deeply I’ve felt, and of how naturally I choose to live.

Mirrorless

Let the water be my mirror

Let the wind paint lines of grace

Let the sun write stories on my skin

And time slow down its pace

Let reflection come in ripples

Not in glass with harsh demands

Let me be revealed by presence

And not by culture’s hands

I’ll wear the earth with reverence

Let my wildness show through

For beauty is in living

And in living, I am true.

~ Kerri Elizabeth ~

Nature’s Wisdom: Finding Strength in Storms

A view of a tall tree with a trunk in focus, showcasing bright green and yellow leaves at the top, set against a clear sky.

Growth takes a lifetime of strength through life’s storms, don’t miss a drop of rain or a ray of sunshine.

~Kerri Elizabeth~

Whisper to me your journey to the sky
Speak slowly so I can write them all
Share with me every rain drop you’ve felt
Every shiver in life’s storms that brings strength
As you stand protecting me

Strength through life’s storms creates resilience and endurance.
Share with me every ring you earned at your core
As you share, I’m listening
To the winds shuffling your leaves
The crackling among your branches
The dew among the grass sharing precious reflections
Nature will inspire you with growth
Where God so creatively painted all the answers

After enduring the challenges, you will feel sunshine often after gaining strength through life’s storms.

If you like this one, my hope is you will also like the one posted below:

If you love music , this is a great song:

Emotional depth within sunflowers and the Roots of Perception

“Sunflowers seek the sun, yet their strength lies in their unseen roots. Depth isn’t just what we see—it’s what we feel.”

A close-up painting of a sunflower with vibrant yellow and white petals radiating from a dark center, symbolizing warmth and positivity.

Whether in a tree or a sunflower, with eyes closed or open, color there or gone, roots are the traveling wonder with emotional depth.

~Kerri-Elizabeth~

Depth perception colored or not
Precision and emotion, traveling wonder
Emotions spill upon a silently colored moment
Stillness presents depth with or without the amazement of color
Can you see beyond your vision
Where depth is found by the distance a root grows
Surrender your vision to your heart, where emotional depth and perception truly intertwine
Where emotional depth perception sets you apart
How deep do your roots grow
Where are your roots and which way did they go
How deep have they grown
A tree does not say, this way
It is after the storms where depth is gained
It was in the heart where emotional depth perception remains

…………………..

If this poem resonated with you, you might also enjoy my links below:

Kerri-Elizabeth.com 

Here is an amazing read on Sunflowers facts…https://www.appleyardflowers.com/flowerdiaries/sunflower-facts/

The Priceless Love of Grandchildren

Grandchildren are a wisdom and soul level of understanding that give a
new depth to love.

A lifetime of healing through a grandson’s heartfelt message

All drawn out from the heart

A grandsons interpretation

A gift for his Nina (me, his word for grandma)

Felt to my core

In detail he drew a journey

So close to my own

How would he know

He drew from his heart

A soul level child

A depth misinterpreted by emotion

I see as intuitive wisdom

He’s a gift with a message

Listen, he carries a heart key

A grandson’s heartfelt message can reach more than most will ever even see

The love of grandchildren

Each with a gift of sharing their heartfelt messages

Listen, more importantly, hear

Stand with their experiences

They teach at a depth

Unmatched

~Kerri-Elizabeth~

Love in the Petals

Where your petals grow I want to go

What are you looking for

What moves you closer to the sun

Is there something more you know

Does the moon move you

Do you stare upon the stars

I want to know your secrets to growth

I want to sit with you on a windy day

Swaying to natures harmony

Your center sings a song

Your petals dance along

Together let’s be

Free to grow

~Kerri-Elizabeth~

This painting is headed to its new home.

Write It

Available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble!!!

Have you adventured into this beautiful connection made just for you?

Behind the Closed Door

I always love the saying, “when one door closes , another one opens. “

It’s so true in life outside and inside, I have been infatuated with doors my entire life, the beauty of what they represent but also the frame work, the absolute amazing styles and the many ways they are used in art .

I traveled years ago to see my friend in Sweden and one of the most beautiful things of so many there is the stunning doors. I couldn’t get enough photos, they were truly amazing and so full of art.

When I see a door that stops me in my tracks ,it always sparks a curiosity, is what’s behind the door as beautiful as the start to the journey to venture behind it?

It always represents the inner work to me, it may seems beautiful and creative , but what’s behind it?

The beauty of opening a door when it’s represents itself is no matter what’s behind it, you have a choice to close it or open it, you can appreciate just the door or you can find out more.

Do you want to find out more?