the first morning
Dear Maya,
You wrote that you feel stuck, like the door you've been waiting for will never open. I read your words slowly, twice, and I want you to know what I noticed between the lines: you haven't stopped hoping. Someone who has truly given up doesn't write a letter like yours. You are not standing still, Maya. You are already walking toward that door.
So here is my wish for you. May the heaviness you've carried this season begin to soften. May you notice, a little more each day, the small signs that life is quietly turning in your favor, and may you trust that what is meant for you already knows your name.
Tomorrow morning, before you reach for your phone, place a hand on your heart and say to yourself, “What is meant for me is finding its way to me now.” Then close your eyes and picture a day about a month from now. Your phone lights up and you're smiling before you've even read the message. Notice where you're standing, what you're wearing, how light your shoulders feel. Stay there for three slow breaths, as if it has already happened, because in a way, it has begun.
Do this every morning for the next seven days. And each night, before sleep, whisper “I am ready to receive good news,” and write down one small thing that went right. They will add up faster than you think.
I'll be holding a picture of you walking through that door.
With warmth,
Written Blessing
