Breathe with Eve

Breathe with Eve invitation to breathe
deeper .. 🧘‍♀️🍃
to feel more alchemy
more alignment 🙏🏼 ..

body, mind & soul 💫
nervous system regulation, vitality, access, clarity
ease in your very being 🍃
ice baths ❄️🛀 concious transformational breath 🧘‍♀️🍃

♥️ The truth is, in order to heal we need to tell our stories and have them witnessed. 💗 The story itself becomes a vess...
03/01/2026

♥️ The truth is, in order to heal we need to tell our stories and have them witnessed.

💗 The story itself becomes a vessel that holds us up, that sustains, that allows us to order our jumbled experiences into meaning.

♥️ As I told my stories of
fear, awakening, struggle, and transformation and had them received, heard, and validated by other women,
I found deep profound healing.

💗 I also needed to hear other women’s stories in order to see and embrace my own.

♥️ Sometimes another woman’s story becomes a mirror that shows me a self I haven’t seen before.

💗 When I listen to her tell it, her experience quickens and clarifies my own.

♥️ Her questions rouse mine.
Her conflicts illumine my conflicts.

💗 Her resolutions call forth my hope.

♥️ Her strengths summon my strengths.

💗 All of this can happen even when our stories and our lives are very different.

💕 Sue Monk Kidd
“ The Dance of the Dissident Daughter”🌸

♥️ Art by Kendra Hirons, “Sisterhood”👑

03/01/2026

Whispers of the Hummingbird

Between breath and heartbeat,
the hummingbird arrives—
a shimmer of turquoise and earth,
stitched from wind and light.

Its wings do not flap;
they remember
the ancient rhythm of becoming,
the soft labor of joy.

It hovers where flowers open
not from force,
but from trust.
Petals lean in,
listening.

In its throat, the color of dawn.
In its tail, the patience of roots.
Mountains fade behind it,
for even stone pauses
to watch grace pass by.

The hummingbird drinks
only what is needed—
no more, no less—
and leaves the blossom whole.

It teaches us this:
that strength can be small,
that beauty may move too fast
to be owned,
and that life,
when held lightly,
sings.

👉 Send me a message with the artwork you love, and I’ll share the direct link with you!

🙏🏼 Tears don't speak of weakness; they speak of reverence, for life, for others, for what matters most to you.🔥 Know tha...
03/01/2026

🙏🏼 Tears don't speak of weakness; they speak of reverence, for life, for others, for what matters most to you.

🔥 Know that you are held, even now, as you walk through this valley of cleansing.

🙏🏼 What emerges will be lighter, truer, and more beautifully alive.

🌹 In moments of sadness, resist the urge to turn away too quickly.

⚔️ Sit with what you feel, even if only for a few minutes.

📚 Write it down.

⭐️ Listen within.

Meet the parts of yourself that ask to be seen and heard.

🌕 There is wisdom waiting there.

🌊 Tears open the door to understanding that a smile often cannot reach.

🦋 Each tear lifts a small piece of that burden, washing away the remaining unspoken sadness, fear, and pain.

♥️ This is courageous work.

🔥 Sacred work.

🌳 Letting go of what no longer serves your spirit is an act of profound self-respect and quiet courage. 🍃

🔥 Breaking is not the end of strength; it is often the beginning of honesty.

⚔️ Sometimes the burdens we carry are far heavier than they should be, and tears are how the spirit releases what it can no longer hold.

♥️ A smile can be easy, offered freely to the world.

🌊 But tears come from the heart.

🍃 They are born of love, loss, connection, and truth.

🌙 They reveal how deeply you care, how deeply you feel, how human you are.

🌸 So be gentle with yourself in this tender season.

🦋 You are not falling apart, you are being remade.

🔥 The peace you long for is not far away,
it waits quietly on the other side of liberation. ♥️

🌳 Author is remembered and honoured 🍃art was respectfully sourced 🔥

I want to meet a gentler vow: to be kinder to my own heart, to listen when my spirit is weary, to understand how much it...
02/01/2026

I want to meet a gentler vow: to be kinder to my own heart, to listen when my spirit is weary, to understand how much it takes to exist in this world with honesty and care.

To navigate the storms of life that no one else sees. To navigate the quiet disappointments. To navigate the constant balancing act of hope and exhaustion that seems to define being human on this endlessly moving treadmill of life.

And somehow, here we are, still standing, still feeling, still trying. So as the new year arrives, I don’t want to greet it with another list of ways I need to improve myself.

What if this year we stopped treating our humanity like a flaw to be fixed, and started recognizing it as the sacred work it truly is?

What if we allowed ourselves to be beautifully unfinished, tender, flawed, learning, growing, and discovering that this is where the peace has been waiting all along?

02/01/2026

As the New Year draws near, it invites us to slow down and look back with honesty and compassion. To remember the moments when we rose, and the moments when we stumbled. The promises we kept, and the ones we let slip away. The times we said yes to adventure, and the times we closed our hearts out of fear of being hurt. None of it was wasted. Every step, every choice, every pause shaped who we are becoming.

The beauty of a new year is not perfection—it is permission. Permission to begin again. To forgive ourselves and one another. To try differently, love more openly, give more generously, and worry less about what might go wrong. A new year whispers possibility, reminding us that growth does not require erasing the past, only learning from it.

There is so much in this world we cannot control—storms that arrive without warning, losses that shake us, circumstances that humble us. But there are things always within our reach: kindness, forgiveness, second chances, and fresh starts. These are the quiet powers that transform loneliness into connection and uncertainty into hope. And at the center of all of it is love—love in its many forms. Love that heals. Love that restores. Love that carries us forward.

As we step toward a new beginning, let us gather the lessons we earned, treasure the moments that brought us joy, and gently release what has weighed our spirits down. Let us make room for new growth—emotionally, mentally, and spiritually—welcoming change not as something to fear, but as something that helps us become more whole.

From my heart to yours, thank you for being part of my journey. For your kindness, your encouragement, your wisdom, and your presence throughout this year. You have made this path richer and more meaningful than you may ever know. May 2026 meet you with peace, health, love, and countless moments of quiet grace. May it be a year where hope feels closer, hearts feel lighter, and love leads the way. (31st of December)
As the year turns and we step into the soft light of a new beginning, let us carry a quiet flame for those who have moved beyond our sight. Though they no longer walk beside us in the physical world, their spirit remains a steady glow within the hidden rooms of our hearts. They are never truly gone as long as we hold their stories close and allow their love to guide our hands and our words.
We carry them with us in the way we speak, in the values we hold dear, and in the quiet strength they once shared with us. Their lives continue to unfold through our own, a beautiful sign of the bond that even death cannot break.

Every lesson they taught and every moment of joy they gave us is a seed that continues to grow in the garden of our souls.
In this coming year, may we honor them by living with the same kindness and courage they showed us. Though we miss their touch, let us find comfort in knowing that the bridge of love between us is eternal. Their memory is not a shadow, but a light that warms our path and reminds us that we are never truly alone. 🤍🕊 ✨

~Tips that Change your Life
Art: Facebook

Sacred Divine Feminine

Don’t clip her wings and expect her to soar....Don’t cage her heart then wonder why its gone still...Don’t critique her ...
02/01/2026

Don’t clip her wings and expect her to soar....

Don’t cage her heart then wonder why its gone still...

Don’t critique her song then get angry when shes lost her voice....

She was never meant for quiet corners
or careful hands.

She learned the sky early,
how to lean into the wind,
how to trust the ache in her chest
that said more.

You measured her wings with fear.
Called it love.
Called it concern.
Called it staying.

Don’t starve her soul and feed her mediocrity, shame, neglect, lack of presence..... And wonder when one day all you loved and desired and dreamt of has faded into the echo of a song on the breeze.

Don’t try to possess something that was made to dance in the dawning light of an autumn sky... It was not made for such things.

You asked her to sing
but corrected the pitch,
softened the edges,
told her which notes were too much.

You fed her what was easy.
Routine. Absence.
Half-glances and full expectations.
Then stood surprised
when her eyes stopped searching the horizon.

Don’t forget your own love of flight.... Of freedom to fall from the sky and be caught by your own wings.....

Somewhere along the way
she began to fold inward,
mistaking survival for peace,
mistaking silence for strength.

But wings remember.
Even when tired.
Even when bruised.

They remember dawn light
and the way the body knows
when it’s time to leap.

She was not made to be owned.
Not made to be contained
in the shape of someone else’s fear.

And neither were you.

Don’t expect the magic of this dance to go on for the ages if you yourself have forgotten how to step into the unknown and let go and be caught in the bliss of being.

If the dance ended,
it wasn’t because the music died.
It was because one of you
forgot how to step into the unknown
with open hands.

Don’t mourn the flight
if you were afraid of the fall.

Some things fade
not because they are fragile,
but because they refuse to live
half alive.

Don’t clip wings meant for flying.

They will always find the sky again.

Don’t clip wings meant for flying

Larson Langston

Art by Laura H Ruby

I love this time – the in-between time, the time after all the gatherings and lights, the time before we swing back into...
30/12/2025

I love this time – the in-between time, the time after all the gatherings and lights, the time before we swing back into the regular routines of the new year. It is the crack between the worlds, the place where dreaming can unfold and then spiral into being quickly and quietly. It is a place where, if we want them to, solitude and silence can surround us and the soul-hungers we have abandoned can find us once again. It is a time to listen deeply, to stay with stillness open to the impulse to move from the deepest part of what we are.

~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer

[Art: Tijana Lukovic ]

The Grief of Becoming HealthyNo one talks enough about the grief that comes with healing.The grief of realizing how much...
21/12/2025

The Grief of Becoming Healthy

No one talks enough about the grief that comes with healing.

The grief of realizing how much you normalized.
The grief of recognizing that survival shaped your personality.
The grief of outgrowing patterns that once kept you alive.

Healing costs you familiarity.

As I became healthier, some dynamics stopped making sense. Some people felt louder. Some connections felt emptier. I mourned versions of myself that no longer fit, even when they were hurting me.

There is sadness in letting go of who you had to be.

But there is also relief.

Healing does not erase the past—it contextualizes it. It allows you to stop reenacting pain in search of resolution. It gives you permission to choose differently.

I am grieving who I was.
And welcoming who I am becoming.

Both can exist.

The sky is rich with golden starsAs darkness falls belowThere’s frost upon the windowpanesThat speaks of coming snowThe ...
21/12/2025

The sky is rich with golden stars
As darkness falls below
There’s frost upon the windowpanes
That speaks of coming snow

The streets all empty early
As this longest night draws close
As the world begins to shiver,
Wrapped in winter’s icy coat

The trees stand tall, their branches bare
Yet still they’re reaching wide
They do not dread the night because
They feel their light inside

Beneath the soil, the roots remain
And all seems cold and still
But the dreaming world is gathering
With slow, determined will

So let the silence wrap you close
The dark is not to fear
It cradles all the growing things
That bloom when spring draws near

This night is not an end, it’s just
A pause the earth must take
The seeds of light are sleeping now
And soon they will awake

*****

This is the poem in my Advent calendar today, but I wanted to share it here too, as it’s the Winter Solstice

Becky Hemsley 2025
Beautiful artwork by Tijana Lukovic

20/12/2025

“Where Two Spirits Breathe as One”

The elders say
love is not a fire that consumes,
but a warmth that remembers—
a joining of paths
chosen long before the first step
was ever taken.

They teach that true union
is a quiet ceremony,
a meeting of hearts
that recognize in each other
the echo of an old promise
carried across lifetimes.

From this knowing comes a truth:
when two spirits stand in respect,
the world around them softens,
and even the smallest moment
becomes a prayer strong enough
to steady the winds.

And so we remember—
love is sacred
not because it is rare,
but because it is honest,
and when rooted in gratitude,
it grows into a strength
that outlives the people
who first spoke its name.

Address

Morphett Vale
Morphett Vale, SA

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