a love letter to you (and me)
a few reminders
If there is anything I can do to make your life easier, let me know. If there is anything I can do to help you feel supported, please tell me. If there is anything you need to know about yourself that maybe you can’t see right now, please darken my doorstep, and I’ll tell you. If there is any shame you feel in being too needy or too much, please absolve yourself of it.
Suppose there is any part of you that doesn’t believe that you are lovable; still, after all these years and all this healing, let me be your mirror. If there is any way I can lighten the load, I’ll do it. If there is anything I can say to you to make your day brighter, tell me. If you feel hopeless right now, like there won’t be time to make it better again, just know that you’ve been here before, and the best of your life was made in the dark. It birthed a new light. It made you who you are, and it helped you find your way.
If there is anything you forgot about your beauty and worthiness, let me remind you. If there is a part of you that is screaming out for more, take care of that first, and then keep going. If your body feels like it’s on fire, it’s because it is, and there is nothing wrong with that. You are alive. There is nothing wrong with you.
If there are words you need to hear about your supreme worthiness, tell me what they are, and I’ll write them down and send them to you in a letter with your name etched in gold. If you cannot compute or understand how you, in all your power, and all your historically hard edges, and all your toughness, could possibly be this soft and feel this much, then let me remind you that the softness creates your power. It does not subtract from it. It is not your weakness.
If you are tempted to betray yourself again, it’s ok. You’re only human. If you don’t, you’ll be ok. And if you do, you’ll get another chance to try again. If you feel like an outsider, that’s cool too — the very best ones are. The job of being human is an endless forgetfulness only to return to the wholehearted magic of who we are. That’s what you’re here for. You have a front-row seat to the mystery, and nothing can diminish your full-throttle commitment to the show. There are miracles all the time. You’re living proof. There are more coming. Please allow me the pleasure of reminding you when you forget.
With love,
Nora x
PS Have a listen to Lenny the legend Leonard Cohen - Waiting for the Miracle
This newsletter is free. To support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber.