“Discomfort often appears right before grounding.”
Silence can feel unsettling
when we’ve learned to stay busy.
Stillness brings us face to face
with what noise has been covering.
But nothing in stillness is harmful.
It only reveals what’s asking for care.
Stay long enough,
and the discomfort softens
into understanding.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow we find presence in a new way.
“Not everything needs an answer the moment it arrives.”
There is a space before clarity.
A breath before understanding.
A quiet interval where nothing is required of you.
We’ve forgotten how to live there.
The mind wants resolution immediately.
The body asks for time.
And wisdom always sides with time.
Like fog lifting on water,
truth reveals itself when it’s ready,
not when it’s demanded.
Waiting is not avoidance.
It is respect for what’s still forming.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
“Most limits were inherited, not chosen.”
Probability often comes from experience, culture, disappointment, or protection.
Understanding this softens its grip.
Probability isn’t wrong, it’s cautious.
But caution doesn’t need to be in charge.
Old lessons
still speak,
even when
they’re no longer true.
Purposeful Journaling Practice:
Write where your sense of “what’s likely” came from.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we choose a different order.
“Most limits were inherited, not chosen.”
Probability often comes from experience, culture, disappointment, or protection.
Understanding this softens its grip.
Probability isn’t wrong, it’s cautious.
But caution doesn’t need to be in charge.
Old lessons
still speak,
even when
they’re no longer true.
Purposeful Journaling Practice:
Write where your sense of “what’s likely” came from.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we choose a different order.
“Expansion leaves clues.”
Some thoughts feel heavy and others feel light, exciting, or strangely calming. Expansion is information, let it guide today’s writing.
One sentence lifts.
Another tightens.
The body
knows.
Purposeful Journaling Practice:
Notice which ideas create openness in your body and write those.
-Kerri-Elizabeth
Tomorrow, we pause and integrate.
“Purpose doesn’t push, it carries forward.
You didn’t miss anything.
You moved through what you needed.
This next season doesn’t require urgency, only awareness.
The baton passes.
You take it
without hurry,
without fear.
Purposeful Practice:
Acknowledge one way you’re different than two weeks ago.
Kerri-Elizabeth
Tomorrow a new two week series begins, get ready to think big, feel empowered and possibly, if it feels right for you get a pen and paper and get ready to ‘Write it”.
“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.
“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?
“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.
“Winter doesn’t ask you to be strong, only honest.”
The first days of December nudge us inward.
Not to hide… but to see.
To notice what’s tender, what’s tired, what’s ready for change.
You don’t have to reinvent your life today, just listen.
Winter is the season where the soul whispers truths we rushed past all year.
Let the quiet teach you. Let the slower pace feel sacred instead of sad. You’re allowed to rest into yourself. You’re allowed to let the light return slowly.
When the season cools,
the spirit warms,
truth rises
on its own time.
Gentle practice:
Step outside for one minute. (Barefoot if you can)
Notice the air on your skin.
Let it reset your nervous system.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, we’ll explore how sadness can become strength, not heaviness.
SONSHINE FOR YOU 