R & R Psychological Services

06/10/2025

“Pooh,” said Piglet softly, “how do you know when it’s time to step away from things that make you sad?”
Pooh thought about this very carefully, because it was a question that touched both the heart and the tummy, and those were the most important sorts of questions. “Well, Piglet,” he said, “sometimes you notice that certain places or certain thoughts feel too heavy, like carrying too many honey pots all at once. And then you remember—it’s all right to set some of them down.”
Piglet tilted his head. “But isn’t that leaving things behind?”
Pooh shook his head gently. “Not leaving, Piglet. Just choosing. Choosing to keep what makes you warm inside and putting down what makes your paws ache. Because even in the Hundred Acre Wood, not every path is meant for every day. Some paths lead to sunshine, and some only to thistles.”
Piglet gave a little sigh of relief. “So self-care is knowing which path to walk?”
“Exactly,” said Pooh. “It’s remembering that it’s not selfish to take care of your heart. Because when your heart is lighter, you have more to share with the friends who need you most.”
And with that, Pooh leaned back against the log, flower in hand, tea steaming beside him, and decided that the best kind of strength wasn’t carrying everything, but knowing when to carry less.

16/09/2025

Somewhere, Out There

Somewhere, out there, a mother tries,
With weary arms and sleepless eyes.
Her heart is heavy, her strength is thin,
She wonders if she has it within.

Somewhere, out there, a father stands,
With work to shoulder, hope in hands.
He sees his partner struggle each day,
And searches for strength to light their way.

Somewhere, out there, a grandfather stays,
Still hoping to brighten their long days.
The phone stays silent, the hours drag on,
Yet his hands are steady, his heart is strong.

Somewhere, out there, a grandmother weeps,
Her vow unbroken, the promise she keeps.
She treasures her son, his children, his wife,
And longs to be part of their daily life.
Though doors are closed and she’s kept apart,
Still steady love burns within her heart.

Somewhere, out there, a baby cries,
Her mother comes with tired eyes.
The child does not wish to burden or tire,
She only longs for a warm embrace’s fire.

Somewhere, out there, Papa and Nanna yearn,
With love unmeasured, no need to earn.
His hands reach forward, gentle, true,
While her heart aches for what she can’t do.

Somewhere, out there, the years have flown,
Two little girls have laughter their own.
Five and four, they dance and play,
While their Nanna waits for a brighter day.
She missed their baby years, fragile and small,
But hopes to be part of their lives after all.

Somewhere, out there, the parents stand tall,
Their love for each other has carried it all.
They’ve proven their strength through trials and tears,
Together they’ve weathered the hardest years.

Yet grief still whispers of time long gone,
Of not being there when the night was drawn.
Not just the babies she yearned to enfold,
But helping the parents remains what she holds.

Her heart stays steady, her love burns true,
Still waiting for moments to show what it knew.
Somewhere, out there, love waits to begin,
A door to be opened, a hand to let in.

16/09/2025

A childs eyes saw
what she did not understand
Her mother being beaten
by a large and brutal hand

The voices shrill and shouting
were always in her house
but she stayed still and hidden
like a tiny little mouse

The years went by with tension
you could cut it with a knife
She knew she had to leave this place
for sanity and life

Her foray into adult life
with danger here and there
seeking, seeking, seeking
for someone who would care

With joy at first but then a crash
back into the fold must go
The torment is still present
But the soul has started to grow

No longer will she hide
a mouse so timid now
So when the fist comes down again
She'll be at her mothers side

You bit fat ugly basturd
Hit me if you dare
For you I am dead inside
So I no longer care

Retreating hand, a look of shock
The hand is slowly lowered
The power has been broken
Now nothing but a coward

This menace can be challenged
The fight that can be won
Ask for help, give support
The balance can be swung.

01/09/2025

💜

13/08/2025

02/08/2025

Two meals...one burnt after an hour at 900°F, the other cooked to perfection after three hours at 300°F.
Same ingredients.
Different results.
It was such a solid reminder:
Growth isn't about rushing. It's about the right pace.
In a world that glorifies speed and hustle, we forget that some of the best things in life.... skills, success, even healing...take time.
So if your journey feels slow right now, don't stress.
You're not falling behind.
You might just be slow-cooking something exceptional.

28/07/2025

23/07/2025

Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed... 🌿❤️