Freedom Beyond Boundaries

19/02/2026

✨Being kind is a powerful medicine✨

❤️ It’s good for the heart
❤️ It makes us feel happier
❤️ It slows the aging process
❤️ It helps with depression
❤️ And it’s very contagious

For a long time when I’ve seen someone wearing a nice outfit, or piece of jewellery or simply looking happy, it’s just gone through my mind as a fleeting thought, but one day this all changed 💕
I was walking through my local shopping centre, when a lady walking past drew my attention.
She was looking wonderful, so I stopped her and complemented her on how amazing she looked and how great her outfit looked on her.
I was a little taken aback when she became quite emotional, so we found somewhere to sit down.
In the conversation that followed, she told me that she’d been in a controlling relationship for 20 years, but had finally found the strength to leave the year before.
She explained that she’d suffered from an eating disorder for most of that time, but had finally got help and managed to put on some weight.
She said she was 3 stone heavier now than she had been when she was most unwell and that she was really struggling with that and how different her body looked now.
We chatted for a while and I can still remember her saying as we parted, that the timing of my stopping her had to be more than just a coincidence and that my complementing her had reminded her that it was the right thing for her to carry on with her recovery, rather than give in to the illness ❤️.

She walked away from me with a smile on her face…. So different from just 30 minutes before…. And all down to a simple act of kindness 🙏

Who knows how different her life would have been if I’d not spoken up…

So now every time I think something nice about someone, I tell them 🥰

“You look wonderful today” ☺️
“You’ve got lovely hair” 👩‍🦰
“You look great in that outfit “👗
“Your perfume/aftershave is amazing”

1. It makes YOU feel good
2. It makes THEM feel good and
3. It makes EVERYONE observing the act of kindness feel good

So many people affected by just one simple act of KINDNESS ❤️

So the next time you think something nice about someone….TELL THEM ❤️ you never know where it will lead

18/02/2026

13/02/2026

✨Do you suffer from an auto-immune disorder?
✨Are your days spent suffering from joint pain, extreme fatigue and digestive issues amongst many others?
✨Are you tired of this controlling your life and being told that while it’s mostly not curable, it can be managed with medications and immunosuppressants etc? 💊💉
✨or spending days in bed…..?

Since working with The Emotion Code, I have discovered that there is another way…..a way in which I can help my clients to relieve and sometimes completely eliminate their symptoms, allowing them to start to live their lives more fully again 🎉🥰

If you feel I could help you, or you know someone that you think could benefit from this incredible work, please comment on this post or contact me via my website for a free telephone consultation where I will explain everything in more detail 🥰
I look forward to hearing from you,
Lynne xx
www.freedombeyondboundaries.co.uk

13/02/2026

🥰 Thank you so very much for your kind words and this wonderful review Janice 🎉. It’s always a pleasure seeing you too 😘 ###

11/02/2026

“I’ve just had another fantastic review 🎉🥳 I still have to pinch myself at how incredible this work is ☺️ Thank you so very much Rianna” 😘
💕🕊️💕🕊️💕🕊️

“Lynne is truly a wonderful woman inside and out. Over the course of knowing her she has been unrelentingly kind and understanding, immediately putting me at ease and explaining how her techniques work. Her treatment has yielded positivity for me, helping to get me out of a negative cycle I have been in for years and get a better grasp on myself and my mind. I would not hesitate to recommend her services!”
Rianna Moore ❤️🥰

20/09/2025

❤️ Some Saturday morning medicine for your soul ❤️ ###

16/08/2025

❤️🙏”Do you have 8 minutes?”🙏❤️

I do……. Always……So if you need a call….if you need some help….. or if you just need to hear a voice that cares…. I will always have 8 minutes for you 😘 ###x

31/07/2025

Gregg Braden is a scientist and best selling author, who is renowned as a pioneer in bridging science, spirituality and the real world.
I had the pleasure of meeting Gregg after seeing him talk a few years ago. His profound knowledge is incredibly insightful as well as being scientifically based….
This is a fascinating watch 🥰

What if your thoughts could shape reality? What if your feelings were the code to the Matrix?In this mind-expanding presentation, bestselling author and scie...

22/07/2025

“She didn’t leave us money — she left a rule.”
Grandma had a rule ❤️

If you wanted a cookie, you had to earn it. Simple as that. It didn’t matter if you were six or sixty — no one reached into that big glass jar without doing something first.

“Wanna taste sweetness?” she’d say, wagging her wooden spoon at us grandkids, “Then go make some of your own.”

Washing dishes counted. So did sweeping the porch, feeding the old mutt Bandit, or pulling weeds around the mailbox. Even tying her shoes when her fingers got stiff with arthritis — that earned you a peanut butter blossom.

Some folks might call that strict. But Grandma wasn’t mean. She was the kind of woman who called you “darlin’” while handing you a mop. The kind who saved bacon grease in a can on the stove. Who knew the price of flour before she asked how your day was. Who taught us that dignity didn’t come from what you had — it came from what you gave.

That cookie jar sat like a throne in her kitchen — a wide, heavy glass jar with a rust-red lid and a crack running down one side like a scar. It always smelled faintly of cinnamon and old wood. I swear, even when it was empty, it smelled sweet.

The last time I saw her, she was wearing her Sunday cardigan on a Tuesday. Said she was feeling chilly “deep in her bones.” That was the day she made her last batch of snickerdoodles — the soft kind, rolled in sugar and cinnamon, still warm when she handed them out.

I remember her hands, how the veins looked like river maps beneath paper-thin skin. “Don’t eat more than one,” she warned me with a wink. “Save some for your uncle. He’s fixing the porch swing.”

That was her way — always connecting reward to responsibility. Even dying, she didn’t let go of her rules.

She passed in her sleep two nights later. Quietly. No fuss. Just faded out like the last ember in a fireplace she kept going too long.

The funeral was held at the Baptist church two blocks from her house — the same church she’d cleaned every Saturday for nearly thirty years. People came from counties over. Folks I hadn’t seen in decades. A man in overalls with grease under his nails told me she’d once brought his daughter soup every day for a month when the girl had mono. “Didn’t even ask,” he said. “Just showed up with that dented old thermos and a smile.”

My cousin Abby gave the eulogy, but it was that moment after — when we all gathered at Grandma’s house — that broke me.

The jar sat on the counter. Empty.

For the first time in my life, I reached in without asking.

Inside, folded like a secret, was a note in Grandma’s shaky script:

“If you’re reading this, you’ve already done enough.”

Funny, how something so simple can sit at the core of who we are.

The Cookie Jar Rule wasn’t about chores. It was about contribution. About not taking sweetness from life unless you’d offered a little bit of it first.

It shaped us. Made us helpers, not takers. My brother Joe’s a firefighter in Missouri. Says the rule stuck with him when he pulled a boy from a burning garage. “Didn’t think,” he said. “Just moved.” Abby became a nurse. My youngest cousin runs a food pantry out in Tulsa.

We don’t talk about it much. But we all know. That jar raised us just as much as Grandma did.

These days, I keep it on my shelf.

Still cracked. Still smelling like sugar and old wood.

My daughter tried to throw it out once — said we could find a prettier one online. I told her no. “You don’t replace a compass just because it’s old,” I said. “You just keep following it.”

When my grandkids visit, I set the jar out. Still filled with cookies. Still with the rule.

The first time, little Ellie looked confused. “But Papa,” she asked, “why do I have to do something for just a cookie?”

I smiled, handed her the broom, and said, “Because you’re not just getting a cookie. You’re learning how to give first.”

We live in a world now that praises convenience. Swipe this. Tap that. Next-day shipping, same-day everything. Gratitude’s gone quiet, and patience is a stranger.

But that jar — that old cracked jar — it reminds me that the sweetest things in life still come after the effort. After we’ve wiped someone’s tears. After we’ve held open a door. After we’ve swept a porch no one thanked us for.

That jar reminds me of Grandma.

And the rule she left behind, tucked inside us all:

Never take the sweetness before you've offered your hands.

19/07/2025

You have so much more power over your consciousness than you realise!! 💡🧐🧠

Lynne Mctaggart’s groundbreaking work and the subsequent results of her worldwide Intention Experiments, offer a valuable insight into the true power of focused intention.

This video is well worth taking a look at 🩷🕊️🩷

Award-winning journalist and bestselling author Lynne McTaggart takes you on a profound journey into the science and practice of collective intention, uncove...

07/06/2025

“Big shout out to my newest top fans!” 🎉🥰🥳❤️

Miriam Hunt, Andrew Ward

Thank you so very much for your continued support ❤️ Lynne ###

07/06/2025

Once upon a time, there was a little girl—fragile, yet brave—lying in her bedroom. A rare, serious illness had stolen her strength, but not her ability to dream. Every day, she gazed out the window at a tree, watching the leaves fall, one by one.

One afternoon, in a faint voice, she whispered to her older sister:

“How many leaves are left on that tree?”

Her sister, heart aching, came closer and stroked her forehead.

“Why do you ask, sweetheart?”

“Because… when the last leaf falls, I feel like… it will be my last day.”

Holding back tears, her sister smiled with all the gentleness she could muster.

“Then we’ll live each day as a gift. And it will be beautiful.”

The seasons passed slowly. The leaves fell, one after another. But there was one stubborn leaf that clung to a thin branch. Every morning, the little girl searched for it—and every morning, it was still there. Steadfast. Present.

Autumn went by, then winter, then spring… until summer arrived. And with it, the illness faded. The girl started to eat more, to laugh, to hope again. One day, she got out of bed, shaky but determined, and went out into the garden.

She wanted to see that miraculous leaf up close.

And then, she discovered the truth.

It wasn’t a real leaf. It was a delicately hand-painted plastic leaf, lovingly tied by her sister on a silent night. A small act of deception—a big act of love. A silent promise: “You don’t have to be afraid. As long as you believe, nothing truly ends.”

Because hope isn’t made of words. It’s made of invisible gestures, of fine threads that connect our hearts. And if you ever lose it, let someone keep it safe for you.

Unknown ❤️