#7: Where are you right now?
On slowing down, being present and trusting the process
Before you dive into this letter, I want you to pause⏸️
Not scroll. Not skim. Just breathe.
Feel your feet. Trace your thoughts. Ask yourself: Where are you right now?
Me? I'm on the cream-tiled floor of my room, caught between the exaggerated whispers of northern wind and the glow of my WPS app.
Unlike most days, today I've chosen be here. To deliberately slow down, and enjoy my own company because apparently, relaxing is a taboo in my world.
Naturally, I'd binge-watch my way through sci-fi series. But today, I reached for the quiet rhythm a novel, one I've been dragging for far too long.
And I want to stay in this moment.
I want to follow this young boy as he wrestles with the pull of his familiar life of shepherding and the allure of a mysterious treasure chest waiting somewhere in the desert sands.
But suddenly, I'm pulled back into my own sand-swept memory. And like a sour grape dipped in a cream jar of deep realization, I see it.
I see the times where my life felt like a complete burden.
When reading strange books and memorising new words scraped against my tired brain, when showing up to work everyday felt like losing pieces of myself, when moving to a distant, unfamiliar corner of the country felt like placing my fate on a coin toss.
I see it.
I see how hard I was on myself in those seasons. For not running fast enough, for not knowing what hurdles came next, for not having it all figured out.
Things could always be better.
Depression was daily tea. Fear was a lurking friend. Ingratitude was modus operandi.
Things could always be better.
Yet here I am, grounded on the cream-tiled floor of my room, soaking up not just the northern breeze, but also this huge jar of chocolate-cream realization.
I'm living in a future I only once imagined.
Who knew I'd be juggling two jobs with a resilience that astonishes even me? That I'd go from deciphering alien words to writing newsletters twice a week? That I'd step boldly into unfamiliar spaces, no longer fearful, because now, I'm convinced I can thrive anywhere.
Who knew?
During the time the boy had spent in the fields of Andalusia, he had become used to learning which path he should take by observing the ground and the sky. He had discovered that the presence of a certain bird meant that a snake was nearby, and that a certain shrub was a sign that there was water in the area. The sheep had taught him that.
—Paul Coelho, The Alchemist
Maybe that's the beauty of becoming. Of walking paths you didn't chart and still finding your footing. Because on this rather unscripted journey, I've found that God has a way of exposing you to versions of yourself you never knew even existed.
Each day, the Holy Spirit nudges me to trust the process, to keep moving, no matter how steep the slope or high the climb.
And when I remember this scripture my heart is drenched in unexplainable peace;
No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.
—1 Corinthians 10:13 NIV
It's all a good sign wanting more, desiring better. It's all a good sign. It's a sign that you're alive to possibilities.
But honey remember, divine timing is at play here.
So whether you're stepping into the unknown, wandering through desert sands, or standing proudly at the top, don't rush past the moment.
Slow down. Soak up the wind. And let gratitude rise from the inside of you, to your Father who authored the path.
Don't rush past the moment!
Wherever you are, be there!
It will all make sense in the end.
Love,
Ahbiee 💌
More letters like this…
You're welcome Providence!🥺
Thank you ❤️🩹✨