We Within

I have dreaded winter for years now, because with it comes a certain darkness that makes me feel restless. It starts at the end of autumn and I feel it creeping up on me, like a shadow growing bigger as days grow shorter. This year I set an intention to appreciate this season, to find the beauty in it, and I did all the things they recommend you do to beat winter blues. But the shadow came anyway.  Then I thought: What if, instead of trying to “beat it”, I embrace it? We often think of winter as a season to rest and gather energy, to go inwards and reflect. I’m an introvert and, as much as I love my friends, all year round I need alone time to recharge and make sense of the world, but this need is stronger in winter. And what happens when we sit alone, go inwards and reflect?  Things come up. All sorts of things. All the dark, murky things we don’t want to look at.  [It’s not a coincidence I wrote and recorded this poem in December six years ago. Whatever we suppress comes back, over

We all know how important self-care is and how we need our own toolset to nourish ourselves daily, especially when we're feeling low. Without it, we merely soothe ourselves with things that bring instant pleasure but don’t nourish us. This toolset can look very different depending on the person and our emotional and physical needs that day: Meditating. Making art . Taking a nap. Taking a bath. Listening to music . Tidying up the house. Eating nourishing food. Spending time in nature . Hanging out with animals . Watching a feel-good movie. Journaling about our feelings. Exercising or going for a walk. Saying yes to trying new things. Saying no to things that don’t feel right.  (Disclaimer: this is a sensitive introvert’s self-care list because that’s how I am. Your list can look completely different and that’s okay, as long as it brings you healing). However, some days are harder than others. Some days we're just not strong enough to snap out of our limiting thoughts on our own

I was petting my dog and singing to him to help him relax, something I’ve always loved doing to all my dogs (and baby humans at times). But then I felt my voice connect with something deep within me that needed to come out. A sense of loss, past and future. Suddenly, time was no longer linear and I sang about those who are no longer here and those who will be gone. It was a circular song about life and death and renewal. It was a song about eternity. Find more of my soul whispers on Instagram . Grief is heavy. It is probably the heaviest emotion I know. But singing, or music in general, helps move some of that energy. My father is gone and my dog will be gone too, and so will I at some point. But our story doesn’t end here. It continues to live forever in those who remain and in whatever form or shape we transform when our bodies are no longer useful to us. I sing. We sing. The universe sings. Our songs are eternal. [If you feel inclined to give singing (or any other creative endeavo

  I spent last Christmas away from my family, so I thought of bringing a piece of myself to them. I grabbed a paintbrush and watercolours and immersed myself in colourful exploration, making cards for each of them. Once finished, I would write a special message on the back. I’ve never enjoyed drawing or painting concrete shapes but the experience of just playing with colours was incredibly satisfying. And knowing my family would hold my creations and read my words made me feel closer to them. There is so much magic involved when you create something for others : a sense of accomplishment, of fulfilment. It fills you with love. But there is another kind of love that is born whenever we dive into art and nature, even in solitude. Sometimes, especially in solitude. “The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web”. ━Pablo Picasso There is so much beauty all around

We all are excellent hypnotists. Come again?  Yes. We are excellent hypnotists, but it is not other people we hypnotise, no. It’s ourselves. We hypnotise ourselves over and over, and the funny thing is we don’t even realise we’re doing it. And because it’s such an automatic practice for all of us, sometimes we can make life more difficult for ourselves because we use the wrong commands. We say, nobody understands me. We say, I will never achieve this goal. We say, everyone betrays me. Word after word, we slowly create a vision that defines us, our life and others. And we start reacting to that vision, even if we have no tangible proof that what we believe is true. So if we feel nobody understands us, we stop reaching out to others, missing out on the opportunity to find at least one person who will understand. If we tell ourselves we’ll never achieve what we want, we’ll stop trying. If we think everyone is going to betray us, we’ll become defensive, bitter, resentful, and eventually, o