“You don’t have to hold it all to be whole.”

There’s a quiet kind of strength in choosing what to carry,
and what to gently lay down for now.
Not everything needs your fixing. Not every thread needs pulling.

You are allowed to rest mid-rewrite.
You are allowed to be unfinished and still sacred.
Spirit sees the you that’s growing—even in the stillness.

“In the midst of the page I’ve paused on—and so desperately want to turn already, is me.
I recognize myself in the center of this glorious book, written moment by moment, never ending - so whats the rush?"

My Personal Whisper:

I’ve gotten so used to believing I have to hold everything—every task, goal, dream, to-do, and half-finished vision—that even the thought of setting something down feels like failure. But all it really does is clutter my energy, crowd my nervous system, and call in anxiety like an old friend who overstays.

So today, I remind myself:
Laying something down is not abandoning it.
It’s trusting that the sacred doesn’t need to be micromanaged.
That my worth isn’t measured by my output.
And that space—real, honest space—is what lets the right things rise.