Where you see smoke, is only a warning , where you see fire holds the answers.
Smoke doesn’t rise without reason. It clings, and crawls along the edges of the air, and with every breath a warning.
You can pretend it isn’t there, but your lungs will remind you. You can deny the fire, but your eyes will sting with its presence.
Smoke is never innocent. It is memory of something burning, or the promise that it soon will.
Sometimes what smolders is anger. Sometimes sadness, Sometimes it’s the deception, that was forced too long into silence, finally breaking into sparks.
And when it clears, all that’s left is the trace of the ashes that say: you will never unknow this.
There is where the work begins.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Is smoke a warning, or a lure? Perhaps the fire it hides has only just begun to burn.
Sometimes the hardest part of the storm is realizing the calm was never the end.
The calm came like an unearned mercy ,the kind that makes you believe the worst is behind you. The air felt lighter, almost sweet. For a moment, you let yourself imagine the storm had passed, that the tearing down was finished.
But calm can be a trickster.
It can be the still breath before the second wall arrives ,heavier, sharper, and carrying what the first did not take.
When it came, I felt it in the walls of my chest before I saw it in the sky. Words moved like wind through the spaces between people, lifting dust where nothing had been swept clean. The force was not in thunder, but in the way it pressed against the heart, testing where the cracks had deepened.
After, the ground was littered with what the storm had made visible…..broken beams of trust, shattered fragments of understanding, pieces of history scattered and unclaimed. I walked through it all barefoot for days, writing and feeling the sharp edges, deciding which wounds I was willing to tend to, and which would be left to weather on their own, for now anyways.
There is a strange kind of clarity in the second wall, maybe I didn’t see more before it, like I did this one. The first takes what it can reach. The second shows you what’s truly anchored and what only looked strong until the wind shifted.
And once you know the difference, you cannot unknow it.
The work is more of becoming, again, unraveling years already healed and placed away as wisdom show up to shake you and see how strong your foundation, really is.
~Kerri-Elizabeth~
This is one step in a series that moves through storms both seen and unseen, each one reshaping the landscape in ways that cannot be undone. The next tide is already building, and what it leaves or takes will tell the next part of the story.
The calm at the center is never the end, only the breath before the breaking.
The eye of the storm
is a dangerous kindness
a pause that lets you believe
the worst has passed.
But brisk breezes always comes,
and when it does,
you learn the shape of your own shelter,
the sound of your own voice
calling yourself home.
After it breaks,
you walk barefoot through the wreckage,
feeling for the edges of what’s still whole.
Not everything scattered
was worth keeping.
Not everything left standing
is meant to stay.
Sometimes survival
is not about rebuilding
it’s about learning
how to breathe
in the spaces
the wind has cleared.
~Kerri-Elizabeth-
The storms we survive are not just weather they are mirrors, showing us what cannot be moved, and what we can no longer carry. This series walks those paths, one day at a time, through the shifting light after the eye has passed. The next part waits just beyond the next gust.
There was a time when health meant how much I could do, how much I could carry, how long I could push before resting. I worked out with intensity, studied every herb, food, and method that could improve strength or reduce fat. The knowledge I gained was real, the discipline was real—but the peace was missing.
What I didn’t realize then was how much I was bypassing the essence of health: how I felt. Not just physically—but emotionally, spiritually, soulfully.
I’ve always loved creating things by hand. Oils, salves, teas, tinctures, healing masks from spring water and clay, or wild herbs from trails I walked barefoot. Nature was always whispering truth—I just wasn’t still enough to fully listen.
While I still love fitness, clean food, herbal medicine, and conscious care for the body, I no longer confuse output with worth. I no longer miss the sacred moment just to be—to breathe, to rest, to listen.
I’ve learned that beauty is not just in appearance. It’s in presence. It’s in the natural glow that comes from joy, peace, connection. Rosing cheeks and clarity in the eyes can come from a moment in the sun, a homemade mask from riverbed mud, or laughter with someone you love.
I’ve also realized that listening deeply—especially to my children’s perspectives—requires that same presence. Each of my children experienced their childhood differently. Some of their stories don’t match mine. But I’ve learned to hear them, to honor their voices without needing to defend or reshape mine. That, too, is healing.
I no longer try to fix everything or keep everyone close. Instead, I honor where we all are—right now. I’ve chosen to be me. Not a version of what anyone else needs, but an honest, whole, and healing version of who I am becoming.
The Truth of Wellness
I used to measure wellness by how much I could carry, how much I could do without breaking.
I didn’t know that strength wasn’t in the weight I lifted, but in the grace of letting go.
I’ve found more beauty in riverbeds and spring mud than any sculpted space indoors. The color in my cheeks comes now from earth and breath, from silence and wind, from honoring my body instead of managing it.
Now I listen—
To the garden as it teaches, to the ache of my heart that just needs time, not judgment, to the knowing that rises when I’m still enough to receive it.
Healing isn’t a product. It’s presence. It’s allowing life to move through me without needing to control how it looks. It’s feeling good— and letting that be enough.
There comes a point in the journey where the heart softens—not from giving in, but from waking up. You stop trying to convince others to feel what you feel, to see what you see, or to meet you where you are. You begin to understand that everyone carries a different story, a different storm, a different kind of silence inside.
Emotions rise like tides, not to drown us, but to remind us we are moved by something deeper than logic. And just as the ocean does not ask the shore to change, we can allow others to have their waves, their rhythm, their expression—without losing our own.
Change doesn’t always come from words. Sometimes it comes from the quiet presence of someone who has chosen to live differently. To listen more. To judge less. To stay rooted in their own peace, even when the world around them trembles.
This is the practice: To feel deeply, To love without needing agreement, To honor our path without forcing it upon others.
And So I Stayed
I let the wind speak louder than my need to be right, And the silence hold space for what wasn’t mine to fix. I watched the world spin its stories, And chose to become still.
No need to correct, no urge to convert— Only the pulse of truth softly beating in my chest.
Let them feel. Let them be. And so I stayed— Not to change them, but to remain changed.
Colors and experiences come together over time, no truth is in the now, it shows up in the experience over time. (This is often realized through a social media detox reflection.)
~Kerri-Elizabeth~
Thoughts
I have some thoughts I’d love some input on. This won’t be my normal poem post. Instead, I’d like to share something that’s been on my heart and mind.
I recently took all of my apps for SM (I just had two) off my phone. I am seriously contemplating closing both and forever being done with it. This was a step towards my own social media detox reflection.
I’m not sure if our blogs are considered SM but they sure feel more personal. They are connected to our real life experiences and emotions. Sharing and conversing with you all has been enlightening. It’s more of the reality of life experiences rather than the fluff, it resonates.
I just have a feeling. There so many beautiful connections I’ve created over the years, great friends all over the world. Its a mission to reach out to many and actually talk personally. Thus, I had a sense of who the person was I was following and being influenced by. Influence is now influencer. What’s real now is harder to see and feel. This reflection solidified my plans for a social media detox.
Connections
I didn’t want to have just digital connections. Instead, I wanted to take the time to see why they chose me or share why I chose them to follow. I made it a mission and made so many great connections. It was not just to do business with, with no agenda except to connect authentically. This thoughtful reflection encouraged my social media detox.
Over the years it seems less and less possible to make those connections authentically. (I have wonderful friends I’ve made, both in business and personally over the years.) Nothing wrong with the business or personal ideas model, except it doesn’t resonate with me right now anyways.
There is a manipulation to it all now that has taken away the fun of it.
Maybe this is a fleeting feeling. So I am just taking some space away to see what that prompts for me. Part of my social media detox reflection involves understanding these feelings.
I notice if I post then I’m in a trap, a whirlwind of seeing things I can’t un-see. The list of things I think I need, places I want to travel, and painting ideas I can dive into. An hour passes or more. My bum is numb from sitting too long and I lift my head. Reality conflicts with the entire scene in my dream world I didn’t even realize I was in.
I then have a list of things I want to buy. Our home in my mind has been remodeled and completely redone with all the DIY ideas. I have gardens that look like a fairytale land and I have a new wardrobe. It fits snuggly and beautifully in our new walk-in closet, all organized. In my mind of course, NOT my reality. I guess it really does happen though; that’s what SM says anyways.
I have an awesome life, blessed with love and happiness and challenges. Challenges that would curl your hair. Who doesn’t? I just don’t want to see the fluff right now. It makes the real challenges seem like there is a quick fix if you just follow THEIR recipe to success.
I’ve heard so many coaches and counselors’ videos online. They give advice on how life would be better if I did it their way. Honestly, I have many times. I have a coach and I wouldn’t be where I am without her expertise. This is not to discount the importance of help and guidance.
I am authentically being led to a social media detox reflection. When you know, it doesn’t quit pushing you until you observe and listen, do you ever feel that?
After a few minutes scrolling, my mind is reeling on every emotion life has blessed me with. BUT, none seem correct. Sheesh 🙄 I started feeling pulled so far out of reality. I started missing what’s really happening and appreciating what IS my absolute AMAZING reality.
Limits
I actually put limits on my phone. 1 hour collectively a day is all I’d allow to be on my screen. Some days I never came close. On others, an hour was like two seconds.
That was an amazing experiment. Even down to how many times I went to grab my phone consciously instead of unconsciously. As part of reflecting on my need for a social media detox, I started observing these behaviors more.
Then I wondered why I was sharing anything about my life. Did it really matter or change anyone’s life for the better? Did it connect me to anything worth spending the time on it? Even business, of course it works for many, it’s not that I don’t agree with all that. I just asked myself, is this the way for me at this point?
A Decision
So I decided at least for now it’s NOT. A social media detox reflection has allowed me to come to this realization.
What are your experiences and thoughts about your space in the SM world?
Here are a few ideas that have been helpful along my path:
https://insighttimer.com and as Judy says so beautifully, music saved her and in turn it helps save me.
SONSHINE FOR YOU 