top of page
Search
  • Jessica

heartbeat.

October 3rd


There will be 13 weeks left in the year.

13 opportunities to start again.

13 mondays to make magic happen.


13 is my favourite number when it comes to magic.

Last year, when I lost the will to live,

I dug deep and really dove into the question why.


Why am I here?

Why did the world choose me?

Why am I choosing to give up on the world?


Instead of 13 reasons to die,

I tried my best to come up with 13 reasons to live.

What makes this life so great?


So great that I couldn't bear to give it up.

It was surprisingly easy.

Someone like me falls in love every day.


I fall in love with the way the morning rays hit the leaves,

I fall in love with the sensation of fresh air hitting my lungs,

I fall in love with the stories I write in my head.


Love is a powerful force,

Second only to hope,

Because what is life without hope?


It's not, I guess.

When you find yourself in shoes like mine,

You need to find hope.


I found it in the little things.

The shower, the morning walk, the coffee.

The "how was your day?"


Little things are never really little, are they?

After all, the big picture is made up of thousands of them.

If one were to change, the entire picture would evolve.


My picture changed.

My picture was black.

Black, then grey, then blue.


Blue, then lighter. Navy then sky.

Lighter and deeper and lighter and deeper.

Until it turned white.


Why do you think we associate white with hope?

Is it because it's peaceful?

Is it because we're all longing for a clean slate?


Let me let you in on a secret I've discovered.

You get a clean slate every day.

Every hour, every minute, every second.


Starting again is a choice.

What a powerful choice!

Choose wisely.


It is easy to rest and remain.

Creating space for a clean slate, mentally or physically

or even a combination of the two - is bold.


Brave, bold, strong.

That's what you are.

That's what we all are.


That's what I am.




White is expansive.

White can be scary.

White can feel numb, lost.


But then the sun starts to rise,

Dawn turns from indigo to lilac, ruby to rose, amber to golden.

The warmth.


You can feel it.

Is it inside you? Does it surround you?

Can you let it in?


Just a crack.

A little peep.

An opportunity.


The drop turns into a stream which turns into a flood.

Flooding, oozing, waves crashing all around.

You are whole.


Whole, filled and overflowing.

What was once an extinguished candle is now a flame.

Can you feel it deep inside?


My flame started right in the pit of me.

You know what people refer to as their gut?

That spot right above your belly button deep inside.


I guess I had never really noticed the flame before.

It was so obvious I was oblivious.

Now I can feel it every day.


Some days it burns so brightly I feel as though I could set the world alight.

Today it's flickering, coming and going.

My stomach is in knots.


Yet it's there.

It's always there.

I forgot that.


Now I remember.

Maybe I'll lose my way and forget again some day.

But not today.


Today I will listen to the flame.

And tend to it, calling gently.

Tend to its heart.


Because we share the same heart.

The heart we thought was lost.

Found.

219 views3 comments

Recent Posts

See All

At this precise time, on this precise day, four years ago, I was drugged. The scene: the South of France. The scenario: a birthday party at a friend's house. The friend group: a gaggle of twenty somet

1808 I was born to write. But somewhere along the way I convinced myself I wasn't a writer. My dad used to read me the newspaper as a baby. I slept in the box room at the back of the house, two rooms

6th September 2022 Breathe. August was a mess. A hot, sweaty, uncomfortable mess. Just about everything in my life was tossed into a tornado. And honestly, I was right in there with it, being tossed a

Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page