Balance in the Deep Waters of Feeling

Finding Steadiness When Emotions Run Deep

Last night my dream was vivid, layered with memory, emotion, and meaning. My mother was there and just as alive and radiant as ever, and for a moment, it felt real. Then I remembered: she had transitioned long ago. A wave of sadness rose, but instead of letting it pull me under, I reminded myself to feel it fully...and then let it pass. 

That, I realize, is an empath's sacred practice: to feel deeply without becoming paralyzed by the weight of it. My mother, my superhero, taught me so much about the power of silence, the precision of words, and the strength of presence. In the dream, she was still teaching me without saying a word. 

The scene shifted to a celebration. I was surrounded by people from every chapter of my life: family, old friends, even my children in their youth. Pink polka-dot dresses, curled hair, and a hall filled with hundreds reminded me of both a wedding and a milestone birthday (which ironically, I am celebrating this year). Perhaps it was both a union with myself as I step into a new season, my 50th year of life. 

Later, I was helping a friend who had lost her mother, sorting through dresses and memories. I told her gently it was okay not to have the strength to decide what to keep or release. In truth, I was speaking to myself as much as to her. 

Somewhere in the dream was water, a symbol of feeling, cleansing, and flow. And an old car. A reminder of the journeys I've taken and the ones still ahead. 

When I woke, I carried with me not just the images, but the lesson: I can be fully present with my feelings without letting them consume me. I can celebrate, remember, and grieve all at once. And in this balance, I honor my mother, myself, and the life I am still creating. 

Your story might not look like mine. Your waters may be stirred by different memories, people, or seasons of life, but the current is the same. We are all invited to stand in the waves of our emotions without drowning in them, to let grief and joy hold hands, and to find our own rhythm in the tide. What memories still rise in you, unannounced, and how might you allow them to teach you something new today?

With Thoughtfulness and Balance,

Stacie J.

When Healing Demands a Little Surgery

This past week has been....interesting. And by "interesting," I mean challenging. I've been walking in growth, healed in many ways (still healing in others), but life still finds a way to drop surprises in my path. 

Most mornings, I start my day in quiet time with God. Not the "let me talk non-stop until the sun comes up" kind of time I used to think was required, but the still, knowing kind. I've learned that God hears even the essence of our silence, after all, God is all-knowing!

So, I lay there...breathing, centering, listening for His voice, feeling the rhythm of my heartbeat. I read scripture and speak it over my family and those connected to me. I pray. I reflect. Sometimes I jot down my thoughts or the dreams I had the night before. Occasionally, that quiet moment births a blog post. 

Then I drink my water, always waiting for me on the nightstand, sometimes infused overnight with lemon and lime, and I consider my day. Depending on time, I might walk, job, do tai chi, kickboxing, HIIT, strength training, or yoga. Not always 2 hours at once, but I fit movement in. 

But this week? My flow was disrupted by an uninvited guest: an annoying cyst right under my bra strap. A cyst with no respect for my healing journey or my schedule. For almost a year, it lived in peace, just a little blackhead, about the size of an unsharpened pencil tip, minding its business. 

Then in less than five days, it blew up like it had been offended, growing to the size of a half  dollar, angry, red, and painful. So painful I couldn't lay back, sit comfortably, or even move my upper body without wincing. The doctor ended up removing a cyst about 3-4 inches deep and just as wide. I'll spare you the picture, but let's just say... I could have charged admission. 

Here's the thing: as I relfected on my healing journey, the books I've been reading and listening to, the supplements, the juicing, the meal prepping, the study, it hit me... of course this came out. My body is detoxing, aligning, and releasing what no longer serves me. 

When we realign, when we tune ourselves to the frequency of God, things buried deep will rise to the surface. Sometimes it's emotional pain. Sometimes it's an old habit. Sometimes...it's a cyst. Healing isn't always pretty. Purging is rarely comfortable. But it's necessary. 

Self-reflection points for your journey:

What "old things" in your life might be surfacing because you're finally strong enough to release them?

Are you resisting the pain of the purge, or allowing God to remove what no longer belongs?

How can you better listen, not just to God, but to your body, your spirit, and your emotions?

I believe God sometimes uses our bodies as living parables. This cyst wasn't just about flesh and skin, it was about patience, trust, and surrender. And now, I'm lighter. I'm freer. I'm covered. 

So whether your purge looks like tears, forgiveness, lifestyle changes, or even a minor surgical procedure, remember: healing is never wasted. The pain has purpose. 

And sometimes...the ugly stuff coming out is the most beautiful part of the journey. 

1. Purging / Removing What Doesn't Belong

"Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit." John 15:2 

2. Cleansing / Renewal

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me." Psalm 51:10

3. God's Healing Process

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." Psalm 147:3