transformation journey

Trusting what we can’t see

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

When you can’t see it, feel it, your heart already knows what fear and anxiety try to blur.

Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.

Not people.

Not moments.

Not choices.

Not even the silence that fills the space between them.

We live in a world where snap judgments happen faster than truth can unfold.

Where words once spoken by others can stain the image of someone they never truly knew.

Where assumptions dress themselves in certainty and walk confidently into misunderstandings.

But sometimes,

we’re asked to stand still,

to let the story reveal itself in its own timing,

to trust the unfolding even when our hearts ache for clarity.

There are moments when we want to speak, to correct the narrative,

but growth often asks us to stay quiet,

to let time become the translator between perception and truth.

We may be seen wrongly.

Misunderstood by those who weren’t present for the full picture.

Held accountable for choices not ours.

But even in the shadows of misjudgment,

our light still holds.

Our integrity doesn’t dim just because someone else refuses to see it.

Sometimes, we must live as witnesses

to our own resilience

doing our work,

living our lives,

trusting that what’s real doesn’t need convincing.

Because truth lives longer than rumor.

It breathes in the quiet,

and it rises, eventually, like the sun through fog.

Let people think what they will.

Let the unfolding take its time.

You are not here to rush understanding.

You are here to keep becoming.

~Kerri-Elizabeth~

As this week folds into stillness, the edge of tomorrow stirs with quiet anticipation. What has been hidden asks to be trusted, what has been blurred begins to clear. Week three rises like a shadowed path ahead, inviting the heart to lead where the eyes cannot yet follow.

When the Wild Calls in the Dawn

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

“Even the wilderness keeps its secrets until the right wind carries them.”

The morning began with a chorus not meant for gentle ears.

Coyotes, their voices sharpened on the bone of survival,

rose in unison

not a song, but a warning,

not a hymn, but collaborative howls.

Somewhere in the tangle of winds and shadow,

life was challenged

And they called to their own,

summoning the pack to witness, to feed, to remember.

It is the way of the wild

chaos laced with order,

Survival within a war braided with intensity,

a language we cannot fully know,

yet one we feel in the marrow.

I stood there listening,

watching the grass still gather dew

while dandelions blinked themselves awake.

Bees worked the petals,

bunnies darted through tall stems,

dogs pressed their noses to the wind.

The world carried on its quiet labors,

even as the echoes of the hunt still trembled in the air.

There are packs in the human world, too.

Invisible lines are drawn,

alliances formed,

territories defended with tooth and rumor.

Some voices are meant to stir fear.

Some are meant to summon.

And some,

like the wind through the trees,

carry truths that will only be heard when the season turns.

~Kerri-Elizabeth~

Another step in the unfolding …..a story told in sunlight and shadow, in poetry and perspective. Over the months ahead, the path will twist, the light will shift, and pieces will fall into place. I’ll meet you here, one step at a time, blooming.

The story will be told with careful dedication to the pain, relevance and life earned and learned , to open streams of hope for anyone within an experience you can’t seem to put words to.

The Second Wall

Posted on by Kerri Elizabeth

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.