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Rebecca-Monique (rbccmnq)

community of folks sitting under a tree
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Practising self-love, simplifying the complicated, and letting intention be lived.

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, the most enduring love is the one you practise daily with yourself. February often frames love as something to seek, secure, or perform for others. But the love that steadies you over time is quieter and closer. It shows up in how you speak to yourself, the permissions you give yourself to rest or try again, and the small choices that protect your energy and dignity. This month invites you to practise a form of love that doesn’t require an audience. REFLECTION...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, you don’t have to reinvent yourself to begin again. There’s so much noise in January telling us to become someone else overnight. But real beginnings are often subtle. They build on who you already are, what you’ve already lived, and the wisdom you’re already carrying. This month invites you to begin again without erasing yourself; to let continuity be just as sacred as change. REFLECTION PROMPTS: Where am I placing pressure on myself to “reinvent” rather than gently...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, you're allowed to arrive at the end of the year unfinished, unfolding, and enough. December has a way of tempting us into self-audit: tallying what we did or didn’t do, what bloomed or broke, what we held together or held onto. But you are not a project to be completed by year’s end. You’re a living, breathing becoming. Let this month soften the pressure to “wrap things up,” and instead invite you to meet yourself with gentleness. REFLECTION PROMPTS: Where am I...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, don’t be so hard on yourself. Even the river bends before it reaches the sea. We are often our own harshest critics, measuring ourselves against impossible standards or berating ourselves for mistakes. We forget that growth is rarely linear; that taking detours or pausing doesn’t mean failure. Just as the river bends and flows around rocks, so too can we move with gentleness, patience, and self-compassion on our journey. REFLECTION PROMPTS: In what ways am I being...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, you cannot use someone else's map to find yourself. Your path is your own: uncharted, winding, luminous in places only you can walk. Trust the turns, the pauses, the shortcuts and the long ways round. REFLECTION PROMPTS: Where in my life am I following someone else’s map instead of listening to my own compass? What landmarks of my journey (choices, values, turning points) remind me that this path is mine alone? How might I trust my inner navigation more fully this...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, the bad news is: there are an astonishing amount of things completely out of our control; the good news is: there are an astonishing amount of things completely within our control. The bad news: there are countless things beyond our grasp — other people’s choices, life’s sudden turns, the weather of fate itself. The good news: there are just as many things we do hold in our hands — our responses, our rituals, our breath, our way of telling our story. Freedom lives in...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, your body is not an inconvenience — it is a compass. Rest. Listen to your body’s wisdom. It is not betraying you — it is beckoning you. Calling you back to care. To movement, to stillness, to being held. To tenderness and ease. You don’t have to prove your strength every single day. You can honour the softness. REFLECTION PROMPTS: What is my body trying to tell me today — and how can I respond with care rather than correction? Where in my life have I confused...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, you don’t need a sign—you are the signal. There is power in choosing yourself, in declaring the reset, in deciding this is the moment. Let July be the permission slip you write with your own hand to begin again, to course-correct. Mid-year is not too late, too far gone, or too messy. It’s a doorway. Step through as many times as you need. REFLECTION PROMPTS: Where in my life do I crave a fresh beginning, no permission required? What would I do differently if I truly...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, your intuition is a gift, not a glitch. That quiet knowing, that gentle tug, that whisper you almost ignored—it’s not a malfunction, it’s a message. Trust the parts of you that sense the shift before there’s proof; they were built to guide you home. REFLECTION PROMPTS: When was the last time I trusted myself without needing to explain why? What signals does my intuition use to speak to me—and do I honour them? What would change if I treated my inner knowing as sacred,...

community of folks sitting under a tree

MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, silence can be sacred—but don’t confuse suppression for stillness. REFLECTION PROMPTS: What have I been silencing that wants voice? Is my quiet a sanctuary or a hiding place? MAY'S REFLECTION PROMPT In May, I will return to... Return to what steadies you, what sings to your bones, what reminds you of your own becoming. Not everything you left behind was a loss—some things were simply waiting for your readiness. 2 QUOTES WORTH PONDERING 1. Spiritual teacher, Eckhart...