Heartathome

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@REDLINEZ750 wrote:

@heartathome @AuntGlow @tyme @Appleblossom

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I've shared this poem with the whole of SANE as an organisation @REDLINEZ750 @heartathome 🙂

Thank you sooo much!

Aww @tyme I don't what to say. I feel very honoured! Thank you. 💚

Everyone loved it - right to the CEO 🙂 @heartathome

It was a beautiful poem @REDLINEZ750 @heartathome @tyme

@ENKELI @Shaz51 @TAB

Heartathome, you wrote

"Gently noticing beauty, practicing gratitude, and staying open to God’s presence in everyday life, new pathways in the brain can form. With time, patience, and emotional growth, the mind can soften, shifting from automatic negativity toward steadier peace, self-compassion, and hope. "

Its very much my approach to life.

So beautiful too.

Thank you for being you.

@Appleblossom @heartathome beautiful words. The Sane poem is amazing, and of course the CEO would love it.

I hope you both have a blessed evening

Love your sunrise pic @heartathome 🤩, thanks for the tag!! Hope no more loose sand for a calf workout lol. How’s was your time away? Bet it’s nice to be back in familiar surroundings.

I really love your poem about sane, so so good!!! I am glad it’s been shared all the way, right to the top 🥰, awesome graphics too @REDLINEZ750 awesome work !

How’s was your time away?

To be honest @Chasingsunsets my heart wasn't in it. Going up there showed me how far we have drifted apart in the four years since we were separated by the flood. I will always be there for him, and he'll always be part of the family (after 20 years), but... I don't have any romantic feelings towards him anymore. It's been like that for many years! I lied to him and told him that I had been asked out by someone. I despise lying, Apple! He said he's happy for anyone who could bring me joy. How amazing is that! He also tried to make an effort to keep me there! I left earlier than planned and am glad to be back home. It was bittersweet!

“In This Moment”

There are days I feel like
I am carrying too much inside
and not quite enough outside
to hold it all together.
Not everything has words.
Some of it just sits there—
quiet, heavy, unnamed—
moving through me in waves
I don’t always know how to ride.
And sometimes that shows up
as exhaustion in my heart,
or tears that arrive
before I understand why.
Even here, even now,
there is something in me
that keeps reaching for softness—
for breath, for space,
And maybe that is enough for today.
Just this:
I am here.
I am still here.