Journal Prompt: What power am I reclaiming that once felt dangerous?
I’m reclaiming the power of rest.
The power of joy.
The power of simply being.
Once, these felt dangerous —
because when I was joyful,
something was taken.
I remember those moments in childhood…
playing, laughing, free —
then the news came:
my mother was in hospital, forever.
She was going to die.
Her name was Pearl Joy Roseman.
And in that moment, it felt like joy itself had died.
But now I see —
it wasn’t the death of joy.
It was the birth of life.
Because she was dying, we began to truly live.
We were uprooted from Sussex to London.
I was nine.
Since then, it’s felt dangerous to let my guard down.
Dangerous to not be prepared —
as if I had to be ready to lose something.
To react before it was too late.
But that fear is just a ghost.
An illusion, as haunting as the idea of losing a mother.
Because you don’t lose love.
You don’t lose joy.
You bury it — and then you dig it back up when you’re ready.
Now, I’m regulating my nervous system.
To allow myself to be.
To know that whoever I’m called to be — I will be.
I am here to serve —
but I’m not here to rush.
Not here to force.
Not here to prove.
Just here… to respond.
I am no longer tangled in the Old Earth.
The madness of doing.
The trap of duality.
The tail-chasing insanity of “not enough”.
So I return —
to stillness,
to breath,
to now.
And in that space,
I know:
All is well.
And joy is not lost.
It lives on — in me.
