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There are days when the heart feels heavy before the reason fully arrives. Tears rise unbidden, the body grows tired, and the spirit drifts toward stillness. Sometimes it’s the echo of yesterday’s weight, sometimes it’s the anticipation of tomorrow’s threshold. Often, it’s both.

I’ve found myself here — breathing slowly into a racing heart, letting tears prick at the edges of my eyes, reminding myself I don’t need to fix it, only to witness. These threshold moments, tender as they are, invite us to pause. To listen. To allow. 🌙

✨ The Medicine of Tears

Tears are not weakness. They are water breaking through the stone of what we can no longer carry alone. When we let them fall, they become holy — washing grief, memory, and even joy back into motion. Each tear is a seed, reminding us that what softens us also grows us.

What would it feel like for you to honor your tears as sacred offerings?

🌬️ Breath for the Racing Heart

When the heart begins to race, our bodies are often remembering old intensity. But breath is the bridge. A gentle rhythm — in for four, pause for two, out for six, pause for two — can remind the nervous system: I am safe, I am here.

What breath practices soothe you back into presence when your heart forgets the pace of calm?

🕯️ Standing in the Flame Between

Birthdays, anniversaries, and thresholds alike are initiations. Behind us, a flame marking who we have been. Ahead, a flame marking who we are becoming. And in between, the tender, luminous bridge — the present moment.

When you stand between your own two flames, how do you honor the crossing?

🌊 A Simple Threshold Ritual

• Place a small bowl of water (or your morning glass) before you.
• Whisper: “I allow the tears. I allow the truth. I allow the healing.”
• Dip your fingers into the water and touch them to your eyelids, heart, and palms.
• If tears fall, let them be carried by the water, no longer held only within you.

These moments remind us: tending ourselves doesn’t always mean pushing forward. Sometimes it means standing still, sipping water like medicine, and letting tears fall into the bowl of life’s renewal.

May you, too, find gentleness in your crossings. 🌿

Until Next Time,

The Inspired Imaginative | The Devoted Mystic

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