The Sacred Pace of Rest

Some days are full—full of creative push, of errands, of showing up to things I said yes to when my heart felt braver than my calendar. Those days leave behind breadcrumbs of beauty, but also fatigue. And then there are days like today—soft, slow, stitched together with quiet moments and nowhere to be.

I’ve learned that rest isn’t separate from the work. It’s part of it. Creating with intention takes so much heart, and if I don’t stop to breathe, I lose the thread. So today, I’m choosing to settle into the sacred. The undone things will wait. What’s here right now is enough.

I’m grateful—truly—for how the journey has unfolded lately. It’s not all tidy. It’s rarely predictable. But I’ve been walking through it with openness. I’ve loosened my grip on expectations and started asking, “What goodness is here today?” That question changes things.

It shows up when my daughter calls out a silly word and laughs at herself. It lives in warm coffee and conversations that stretch past bedtime. It’s there in the way the sun lands across my living room rug, a perfect stripe of light that no one planned but still arrives.

This season, I want joy for her. I want her memories to be filled with stories, snuggles, and moments where she knows she’s safe and seen. That takes presence—mine. And presence takes rest.

So I’m moving slower. Breathing deeper. Letting good things count, even when they’re quiet. I’m learning to celebrate in stillness, and to be grateful even when the big picture isn’t clear yet.

If you’re here too—tired but full-hearted—maybe today is your invitation to pause. To feel the ground beneath you and to thank it. There’s goodness here, I promise. Let it rise.