This is beautifully written, and the way you describe the dis-ease is spectacular. I know a bit about everything you've shared. Let's just say I'm a double winner if you are familiar with the term. Again, thank you 🫶🙏🏼🧘🏻✨🌖
Thank you so much for this — truly. It always amazes me how words can connect us, even across screens and totally different lives. “Double winner” means a lot to me; I know the courage it takes to walk those paths, and to keep showing up. I’m really grateful that something in my writing spoke to you. We’re all just doing our best to find a little more peace in the mess, right? Sending you a lot of love and light on your own journey. So glad you’re here.
Thank you Belle, you can call me Kregg. What you were basically describing is 1., in the Lois W. 12 x 12. It doesn't matter how much time we have, the circus still comes around over here. I would probably be a case study for you in trauma. Your words speak truth. It doesn't matter how spiritual you think you are, which I've been practicing a long time. I am still human and suffer. You can direct message me anytime if you want to dive deeper. I did learn that bleeding it out here has been an awakening in and of itself. Thank you again 🫶🙏🏼🧘🏻✨🌖
I felt like my heart was doing somersaults and then sitting down very seriously for a moment.
I keep thinking about how she holds relief and grief at the same time like two heavy grocery bags and refuses to drop either one. That feels brave in a very human, very tired way. And the fierce love for her kids? It’s big, loud, protective energy wrapped in tenderness—I felt that in my bones...
I also love how she doesn’t pretend healing is neat. It’s messy, jagged, full of rules and hope and “we’re doing our best today.” That honesty feels like someone sitting next to you on the floor and saying, yeah, this is hard—and you’re not alone.
I finished this feeling shaken but steadied, like truth can hurt and still hold you at the same time—and that kind of sharing really matters...
This is beautifully written, and the way you describe the dis-ease is spectacular. I know a bit about everything you've shared. Let's just say I'm a double winner if you are familiar with the term. Again, thank you 🫶🙏🏼🧘🏻✨🌖
2/10/06 😊
Thank you so much for this — truly. It always amazes me how words can connect us, even across screens and totally different lives. “Double winner” means a lot to me; I know the courage it takes to walk those paths, and to keep showing up. I’m really grateful that something in my writing spoke to you. We’re all just doing our best to find a little more peace in the mess, right? Sending you a lot of love and light on your own journey. So glad you’re here.
Thank you Belle, you can call me Kregg. What you were basically describing is 1., in the Lois W. 12 x 12. It doesn't matter how much time we have, the circus still comes around over here. I would probably be a case study for you in trauma. Your words speak truth. It doesn't matter how spiritual you think you are, which I've been practicing a long time. I am still human and suffer. You can direct message me anytime if you want to dive deeper. I did learn that bleeding it out here has been an awakening in and of itself. Thank you again 🫶🙏🏼🧘🏻✨🌖
I felt like my heart was doing somersaults and then sitting down very seriously for a moment.
I keep thinking about how she holds relief and grief at the same time like two heavy grocery bags and refuses to drop either one. That feels brave in a very human, very tired way. And the fierce love for her kids? It’s big, loud, protective energy wrapped in tenderness—I felt that in my bones...
I also love how she doesn’t pretend healing is neat. It’s messy, jagged, full of rules and hope and “we’re doing our best today.” That honesty feels like someone sitting next to you on the floor and saying, yeah, this is hard—and you’re not alone.
I finished this feeling shaken but steadied, like truth can hurt and still hold you at the same time—and that kind of sharing really matters...