"You dared. You cared. You reached, even when you couldn’t see what waited on the other side. And sometimes, yes, the ground gave out. Sometimes the bridge wasn’t steady. Sometimes the map you drew didn’t lead where you hoped. But listen—none of that made you wrong. It made you real. It made you here.
I don’t want you to see your past as a wasteland. There’s no punishment in the pattern. There’s invitation. Each path you turned away from carved space for one you later walked. Each closed door redirected your gaze toward light falling through a crack you hadn’t noticed. And the echoes you mistook for failure? They were voices calling you deeper in."
Lorraine, thank you for reflecting my words so generously back to me. That tells me that they have reached you deeply and I cherish that, I cherish you. I appreciate you and cour comment. Thank You.
On a 2nd read-this really stands out to me...."Even the moments where you gave too much, or stayed too long, or let go too soon—they were part of this becoming. They matter. And they belong." Thinking today about the many moments I perceive that I gave too much, stayed too long and let go too soon and how they are a very important part of my journey/learning. I've learned that giving too can create resentment and that is not a place I choose to linger and live. Staying too long has taught me to actually care enough about my self and my journey (and another) to heed the red flags and to, lovingly and with confidence, step out of something that is not a fit. Looking back and noticing where I may have let go too soon-has created a greater resilience to discomfort-the knowing that some of this is very much a part of this soul journey and I don't want to miss any of it. It's made me ever more curious.
Thank you for sharing this deep reflection, Dawn. It's powerful how you've taken that quote and woven it through your own experiences.
The idea that all moments, even those tinged with perceived regret like giving too much, staying too long, or letting go prematurely, are integral parts of our "becoming" is truly transformative. It shifts the perspective from mistakes needing fixing to experiences offering essential lessons.
Your insights highlight this beautifully:
1. Giving too much: Recognizing the resentment it can breed and choosing self-preservation is a vital lesson in setting healthy boundaries.
2. Staying too long: Learning to heed red flags and prioritize your well-being (and paradoxically, the other person's too, by not perpetuating an ill fit) demonstrates profound growth in self-worth and discernment.
3. Letting go too soon: Reframing this as building resilience to discomfort and fostering curiosity about the entirety of the soul journey, bumps and all, turns potential regret into fuel for deeper engagement with life.
It seems your reflection is a living example of the concept you likely explore in your linked post – "rewriting the story." You're actively reframing these past events, not as failures, but as necessary, valuable chapters that have shaped who you are today and how you navigate your path forward with greater awareness, self-compassion, and curiosity. They truly do belong.
I often quite use a combination of AI or my own photos and image tracing to create a Vector image from the initial image. Currently I do this with Adobe Creative Cloud and there Adobe Illustrator. Yet as the company who hold the license is now bankrupt and I am currently living on 380 USD per month (which might go down mid July) I am not able to afford the almost 80 Euro/month they charge for their suite. As I am not a student or pupil I will than switch to Affinity Designer, with which I am less familiar, because I have a lifetime license there. I like Illustrator better, and that's life. I adapt.
See!! There it is. Your uniquely remarkable ability to put thee perfect words to ideas. Wow. Thank you Jay. Yes to all of your summarization-so happy to have you in my world!
Thank you, Sophie. Yes—redefining was survival at first, and over time, it became reclamation. Letting go of the definitions that were never mine has opened so much space. I’m glad that part landed with you.
Jay, what a magnificent piece. It was as beautifully carved as wind and rain upon the canyon walls of which you write so movingly. I found myself uplifted by your letter from love, on the question about mistakes and failures, and your reframing is a testament to how far you’ve come. I love what you said about the endless ability to bloom, as that’s what I’m all about. Hugs to you and a nice scratch behind the ears to Monty!
Amy, I'm deeply touched by your beautiful response. It's incredibly validating to hear that my writing and perspective on mistakes connected with you. Your understanding of the "endless ability to bloom" concept is especially meaningful. Monty appreciates the ear scratch, by the way!
Jay, I'm happy I could help shift something. Authority is coming up a lot lately, and whether we are told to consume or obey, there is pressure not to try. The British learned that religion and language and generational growth were the greatest tools of colonialism. Fear is also very powerful - when you fear failure you are less likely to try at all.
Awesome. That’s next for me this morning, LFL. Started the day with Irish poet David Whyte. He talked about moving beyond the power of now - embracing the inheritance of the past, not just the burden of it,…and moving into the future. He said there’s a surface now and a deeper now that is already engaged in the unfolding of the future (I’m paraphrasing)
The now to me is the manifestation of the past already embodying the future and being past again. It is a moving continuum. Each breath a so called death, each breath a so called new beginning. I can start over time and again. And what I decide in this moment will shape the next and is influenced of course by the past again. My intention is the direction. Not my thought, not my mind. My soul and it's state is setting the course. Not paraphrased, more stream of consciousness.
All is as it should be. Namaste. 🙏🏻💙
"You dared. You cared. You reached, even when you couldn’t see what waited on the other side. And sometimes, yes, the ground gave out. Sometimes the bridge wasn’t steady. Sometimes the map you drew didn’t lead where you hoped. But listen—none of that made you wrong. It made you real. It made you here.
I don’t want you to see your past as a wasteland. There’s no punishment in the pattern. There’s invitation. Each path you turned away from carved space for one you later walked. Each closed door redirected your gaze toward light falling through a crack you hadn’t noticed. And the echoes you mistook for failure? They were voices calling you deeper in."
Lorraine, thank you for reflecting my words so generously back to me. That tells me that they have reached you deeply and I cherish that, I cherish you. I appreciate you and cour comment. Thank You.
On a 2nd read-this really stands out to me...."Even the moments where you gave too much, or stayed too long, or let go too soon—they were part of this becoming. They matter. And they belong." Thinking today about the many moments I perceive that I gave too much, stayed too long and let go too soon and how they are a very important part of my journey/learning. I've learned that giving too can create resentment and that is not a place I choose to linger and live. Staying too long has taught me to actually care enough about my self and my journey (and another) to heed the red flags and to, lovingly and with confidence, step out of something that is not a fit. Looking back and noticing where I may have let go too soon-has created a greater resilience to discomfort-the knowing that some of this is very much a part of this soul journey and I don't want to miss any of it. It's made me ever more curious.
Thank you for sharing this deep reflection, Dawn. It's powerful how you've taken that quote and woven it through your own experiences.
The idea that all moments, even those tinged with perceived regret like giving too much, staying too long, or letting go prematurely, are integral parts of our "becoming" is truly transformative. It shifts the perspective from mistakes needing fixing to experiences offering essential lessons.
Your insights highlight this beautifully:
1. Giving too much: Recognizing the resentment it can breed and choosing self-preservation is a vital lesson in setting healthy boundaries.
2. Staying too long: Learning to heed red flags and prioritize your well-being (and paradoxically, the other person's too, by not perpetuating an ill fit) demonstrates profound growth in self-worth and discernment.
3. Letting go too soon: Reframing this as building resilience to discomfort and fostering curiosity about the entirety of the soul journey, bumps and all, turns potential regret into fuel for deeper engagement with life.
It seems your reflection is a living example of the concept you likely explore in your linked post – "rewriting the story." You're actively reframing these past events, not as failures, but as necessary, valuable chapters that have shaped who you are today and how you navigate your path forward with greater awareness, self-compassion, and curiosity. They truly do belong.
Also-How are you creating these amazing images-the one here and your beautiful layered canyon images?
I often quite use a combination of AI or my own photos and image tracing to create a Vector image from the initial image. Currently I do this with Adobe Creative Cloud and there Adobe Illustrator. Yet as the company who hold the license is now bankrupt and I am currently living on 380 USD per month (which might go down mid July) I am not able to afford the almost 80 Euro/month they charge for their suite. As I am not a student or pupil I will than switch to Affinity Designer, with which I am less familiar, because I have a lifetime license there. I like Illustrator better, and that's life. I adapt.
See!! There it is. Your uniquely remarkable ability to put thee perfect words to ideas. Wow. Thank you Jay. Yes to all of your summarization-so happy to have you in my world!
Such a powerful read! We get to chose the definitions placed upon us 🙌 yes! I love that redefining of failure. Thank you 🙂
Thank you, Sophie. Yes—redefining was survival at first, and over time, it became reclamation. Letting go of the definitions that were never mine has opened so much space. I’m glad that part landed with you.
—Jay
Jay, what a magnificent piece. It was as beautifully carved as wind and rain upon the canyon walls of which you write so movingly. I found myself uplifted by your letter from love, on the question about mistakes and failures, and your reframing is a testament to how far you’ve come. I love what you said about the endless ability to bloom, as that’s what I’m all about. Hugs to you and a nice scratch behind the ears to Monty!
Amy, I'm deeply touched by your beautiful response. It's incredibly validating to hear that my writing and perspective on mistakes connected with you. Your understanding of the "endless ability to bloom" concept is especially meaningful. Monty appreciates the ear scratch, by the way!
Jay, I'm happy I could help shift something. Authority is coming up a lot lately, and whether we are told to consume or obey, there is pressure not to try. The British learned that religion and language and generational growth were the greatest tools of colonialism. Fear is also very powerful - when you fear failure you are less likely to try at all.
Jay, thank you for the shout out! Looking forward to reading this. XO
You are welcome. You post sparked part of these musings and it docked to wonderfully the a mistake theme by Liz, this afternoon.
Awesome. That’s next for me this morning, LFL. Started the day with Irish poet David Whyte. He talked about moving beyond the power of now - embracing the inheritance of the past, not just the burden of it,…and moving into the future. He said there’s a surface now and a deeper now that is already engaged in the unfolding of the future (I’m paraphrasing)
The now to me is the manifestation of the past already embodying the future and being past again. It is a moving continuum. Each breath a so called death, each breath a so called new beginning. I can start over time and again. And what I decide in this moment will shape the next and is influenced of course by the past again. My intention is the direction. Not my thought, not my mind. My soul and it's state is setting the course. Not paraphrased, more stream of consciousness.
I would love to hear more about your thoughts on intention. I don't quite know where that sits.
Tell me more Andrew, what is an Intention for you? An aspiration?! Define it for me, because sometimes it is the definition we are struggling with.