“that we begin to stop
in order to begin
again."
— Maya Angelou, from Late October

Recently, Brenda and I sat down to record the final episode of Season 1 of The Serene-ish Podcast.

We reflected on our conversations, what surprised us, what challenged us, and what brought us joy. It was a space that we intentionally made together to end this chapter well.

Our culture is very good at celebrating beginnings. We love fresh starts, new goals, launch days, and next chapters. We know how to ask, “What’s next?”

We’re less practiced at asking another question:

How do we end well?

When something meaningful comes to a close, our instinct is often to rush ahead before we have fully acknowledged what has been.

Finish the thing. Cross it off the list. Start the next thing. Repeat.

But spiritually, I wonder if we miss something when we hurry through our endings. Maybe we miss the opportunity to learn. Maybe we miss noticing the feelings and thoughts underneath the surface. Maybe we miss the kind of transformation that only happens in the process of ending intentionally, deliberately, and slowly.

As a spiritual director, I often sit with people who are living through endings.

Some are leaving jobs that once gave them purpose. Others are watching children grow up and leave home. Some are grieving a relationship that has changed. Others are stepping away from ministries they’ve faithfully served for years.

Not every ending is dramatic or tragic. Though some are.

Sometimes it’s simply the end of a season, and there is a quiet realization that something has run its course.

Endings rarely arrive carrying only one emotion. There might be gratitude and grief. Relief and uncertainty. Joy and sadness. Hope and loss. All at the same time.

Perhaps endings ask us to loosen our grip.

One of the gifts of spiritual direction has been learning that there is often holy work in the spaces between chapters, within the silence after something concludes, and the pause when we donʻt know yet know what’s coming next.

These in-between, liminal spaces can feel uncomfortable because they resist productivity. Nothing obvious is happening. And yet, they are often the places where our souls catch up with our lives. Gratitude deepens. Grief is acknowledged instead of avoided. We begin to notice what this season has quietly formed within us.

As Brenda and I reflected on Season 1, we sat in the in-between space together, and I found myself feeling grateful. Grateful for the friendship, conversations, laughter, lessons, and especially for the people who listened.

We received thoughtful emails and messages from those who felt seen in our discussions about soul care, discernment, melancholy, holding space for others, and living with gentle intention. What a gift to us.

I’m also grateful that we aren’t rushing into Season 2.

Instead, we’re allowing ourselves time to reflect, to listen, and to ask what this podcast is becoming. That feels like its own spiritual practice. Weʻre holding what we have created with open hands, trusting that pausing and listening are a part of the creative flow.

Perhaps that’s the invitation for many of us when we sense something ending.

Before asking, “What’s next?”

Maybe we first ask, “What is ending?”

And, “How might I honor it?”

A Simple Practice for An Ending

Find some quiet time. Take a journal, or simply sit somewhere you can breathe. Reflect on these questions:

• What season is coming to an end in my life?

• What am I grateful for?

• What feels unfinished or unresolved?

• What am I grieving?

• What do I want to carry with me into the next season?

• What do I need to leave behind?

Do this at a pace and depth that feels good for you. No need to rush to answers. Sit with the questions for as long as you need.

If you’ve been listening to The Serene-ish Podcast, thank you for sharing this first season with Brenda and me. Our final episode, which will be released on Wednesday, July 29th, is a conversation about exactly this—reflecting on what we’ve learned, celebrating what has been, and holding the future with open hands.

Whether you’ve listened to every episode or are just discovering the podcast, I hope you’ll join us for the Season 1 finale. We're taking a short pause before Season 2, and will be back in the fall.

What is one ending you’re being invited to honor right now? I’d love to hear your reflections in the comments or in a reply via email.

As always, I am here alongside you, sitting with these questions in my own endings. I am a fellow seeker, explorer, and practitioner of everything I share here.

Larissa

For more ways to connect with me:

• Hosting a Faith Leaders Soul Care Circle on August 17, 2026 at 11am-12pm Hawaii Time. Open to pastors, clergy, ministry leaders, spiritual directors, and others serving in faith and care work.

• The Serene-ish Podcast with Brenda and Larissa

• Spiritual Direction, Enneagram Coaching, and Soul Care: larissamarks.com

• My monthly newsletter with simple soul care practices and support in your faith journey: Notes From Larissa

• Instagram: @larissalmarks

Aloha friends,

I wanted to share a few updates and upcoming gathering dates for the Hawaiʻi Faith Leaders Soul Care Circle.

This circle continues to grow into a gentle, grounded community space for pastors, clergy, ministry leaders, spiritual directors, and others serving in faith and care work — both here in Hawaiʻi and beyond.

Our quarterly online gatherings are intended to be simple and spacious. Together, we make room for:

• centering

• reflective journaling

• prayer and silence

• gentle conversation

This is not a space focused on leadership strategy or productivity. It’s a space for spiritual grounding, honest reflection, and soul care alongside others who understand the beauty and weight of caring for others.

Read more

Lately, I’ve noticed how deeply exhausted many of us are.

It is not just physical tiredness, though there is certainly plenty of that. But a deeper kind of exhaustion.

So many conversations include big exhales and, “I’m just tired.”

People say it casually now, almost instinctively. We say it while laughing with friends, answering emails, standing in grocery store lines, beginning Zoom calls, dropping our kids off at school. It has become such a familiar part of life that many of us barely pause long enough to ask what kind of tiredness we are actually carrying.

Some exhaustion comes from obvious things: grief, caregiving, stress, parenting, uncertainty, overwork, illness, transition. Some of it comes from carrying too much for too long without enough support. Life is full and life is hard.

But there is another kind of exhaustion too — the kind that grows slowly when we become disconnected from ourselves.

The Exhaustion Beneath the Surface

Exhaustion surfaces in a variety of ways: difficulty concentrating, emotional numbness, irritability, cynicism, scrolling endlessly without really wanting to, feeling strangely absent from your own life.

And unfortunately, this happens in a world that rewards over-functioning. Many of us have learned how to keep going long after we are tired. We learn to push through. To be productive. Helpful. Reliable. Efficient. Available.

I don’t think exhaustion is always a sign that we are doing something wrong. Sometimes it is simply the soul’s way of saying: something needs attention.

Our bodies and souls eventually speak when they have been ignored for too long.

Sometimes exhaustion is trying to tell us that we need rest. Sometimes it is inviting us to grieve. Sometimes it is revealing that we have been living too disconnected from our limits, our desires, our creativity, our relationships, or the presence of God within us.

Exhaustion is not just about needing sleep. Sometimes it is about needing reconnection.

Losing Touch With Ourselves

I think many people are walking through life profoundly disconnected from themselves without even realizing it. We move quickly from task to task, responsibility to responsibility, screen to screen, and eventually lose touch with what is happening inside us.

We stop noticing our own sadness, longing, loneliness, joy. We become skilled at functioning while remaining emotionally and spiritually absent.

And because our culture tends to value productivity over presence, we often interpret exhaustion as a personal failure instead of important information.

We assume we should simply manage ourselves better or try harder or find the perfect routine.

But exhaustion is not always something to conquer. Sometimes it is something to listen to.

Jesus and Human Limits

In the Gospels, I’m struck by how often Jesus noticed people’s limits. He invited rest. He withdrew from crowds. He stepped away from constant demands. He did not treat human limitation as weakness to overcome, but as part of being human.

The invitation to rest is not a reward for finally getting everything done.

It is part of how we remain connected to ourselves, to creation, to God, and to one another.

Restoration Often Begins Quietly

I think one of the dangers of chronic exhaustion is that eventually we stop noticing what restores us. We become so accustomed to surviving that we forget how to receive.

And restoration is often smaller and more subtle than we expect. It may not arrive through dramatic life changes or perfectly curated morning routines. Sometimes restoration begins with very small acts of attention.

A slow walk. Turning off notifications. Making tea. Allowing yourself to take a cleansing breath before shifting into a different place. A conversation where you do not have to perform. Prayer without an agenda.

Recently, I’ve been trying to notice the small things that help me reconnect with myself and with God. I am not talking about distractions that help me temporarily escape my life, but practices that help me become present to it again.

Things like sitting outside for a few quiet minutes, watercolor painting, pausing before and after meetings/appointments, running, savoring my food, slowing down enough to breathe before responding, honest conversation with friends.

None of these things are dramatic. But they restore my soul.

A Gentle Question

What if exhaustion is not simply a disruption to your spiritual life?

What if paying attention to your exhaustion is part of your spiritual life?

What if exhaustion is inviting you:

• back toward your limits

• toward honesty

• toward rest

• toward grief

• toward compassion

• toward reconnection with your own life

A Few Questions to Sit With

If you want to, I invite you to pause and reflect on these questions.

• Where am I exhausted right now?

• What have I been carrying for too long?

• What is my exhaustion trying to tell me?

• What restores my soul — not just distracts me?

• What would compassion toward myself look like this week?

You do not have to answer these questions quickly. Reflect slowly and deeply, in a way that feels good for you.

You can write your responses in a journal, share about them with a trusted friend, or even reply to this via email or the comments section.

As always, I am here alongside you, sitting with these questions. I am a fellow seeker, explorer, and practitioner of everything I share here.

Larissa

For more ways to connect with me:

• The Serene-ish Podcast with Brenda and Larissa

• Spiritual Direction, Enneagram Coaching, and Soul Care: larissamarks.com

• My monthly newsletter with simple soul care practices and support in your faith journey: Notes From Larissa

• Instagram: @larissalmarks

For those of us who serve others—pastors, clergy, ministry leaders, spiritual directors, caregivers of souls—it can become surprisingly easy to neglect our own souls.

We spend our days listening, holding space, leading, praying, preparing, responding, and showing up for others. Much of it is holy work. Much of it is hidden work. And often, somewhere in the midst of caring for so many people, we lose touch with the quieter question:

How is my own soul?

Not how is the ministry. Not how is the leadership role. Not how are the people depending on me.

But how is my soul?

This is why soul pauses matter. A soul pause is not about neglecting your calling—it is about returning to the deeper center that sustains it. It is not indulgent or unproductive. It is necessary.

And yet, especially in ministry, many of us live as though stopping is irresponsible. We tell ourselves we will rest after the retreat. After the board meeting. After the next season of urgency ends.

The soul, however, needs space to slow down and breathe.

Read more

There is a quiet kind of wisdom that only emerges when we pause long enough to notice.

Many of us move from one month into the next without marking the threshold. We carry experiences, emotions, questions, and even small griefs forward, unexamined and unnamed.

But what if, once a month, you paused to allow yourself to breathe, pay attention, and recalibrate?

This is the invitation of a monthly review and overview: a gentle rhythm of reflection that helps you notice where you’ve been, discern what matters, and step more intentionally into what’s ahead.

A month is long enough to hold real life—relationships, work, surprises, disappointments, small joys. But it’s short enough that we can still remember how it felt to live it.

Well, hopefully we can still remember. As I write this, I am aware that there are times I can barely recall what happened last week! I personally do a brief weekly review and overview, as well as a more in-depth monthly version.

When you pause monthly to reflect, you begin to:

• Recognize patterns instead of reacting to isolated moments

• Honor growth that would otherwise go unnoticed

• Tend to your inner life before extreme burnout or disconnection sets in

• Make small, meaningful adjustments instead of drastic overhauls

Iʻll share what I do each month. Youʻre invited to use whatever feels helpful and resonant to you, or create your own version.

The Monthly Review: Looking Back

Set aside 30–60 minutes at the end (or beginning) of each month. Light a candle, make a cup of tea, sit somewhere quiet with a notebook or note-taking app. Let this be a sacred appointment with your own life.

You might begin with a simple prayer or intention: “God, help me to see clearly and gently.”

Then, reflect on these questions:

1. Where did I feel most alive this month?
What moments held energy, connection, or joy?

2. Where did I feel drained?
What moments depleted or diminished my energy or joy?

3. What felt meaningful or important?
What lingered with me or affected me?

4. What was difficult?
What did it ask of me?

5. What am I carrying that I need to release?
Stress, resentment, pressure, expectations?

You’re not trying to analyze your life perfectly. You’re simply bearing witness to it, perhaps coming to a deeper awareness of yourself.

The Monthly Overview: Looking Ahead

After looking back, turn your attention forward.

1. What feels like it’s asking for my attention next month?
A relationship? A decision? my own rest?

2. What is one intention I want to carry?
A word, a posture, a way of being.

3. What would it look like to care for my soul this month?
Think simple and doable.

4. What rhythms or boundaries might support me?
Where do I need structure or spaciousness?

This is not about setting ten goals or extreme overhauling. It’s about choosing one or two anchors that help you live with greater intention.

A Different Way of Moving Through Life

Over time, this monthly rhythm becomes a foundational practice that is grounding. You begin to live your days knowing you will return to them. You notice things in real time because you’ve trained your attention. You hold your life with more compassion and less urgency.

Instead of rushing through your months, you start to inhabit them with awareness and presence.

A Simple Practice to Begin

If this feels like a lot, start here:

At the end of the month, ask yourself just two questions:

• What stayed with me?

• What do I need moving forward?

That’s enough. You can always broaden the practice later.

A Gentle Invitation

Consider setting a recurring date with yourself. It might be the last day of the month, or the first morning of the new one. Put it on your calendar. Treat it as you would any meaningful commitment.

If you try a monthly review/overview, I’d love to hear what you notice.

What surprised you? What felt meaningful? What shifted, even slightly? You can share in the comments or send me a direct message.

With you on the journey,

Larissa

Sometimes anger gets a bad reputation.

Many of us are taught (explicitly or implicitly) that anger is something to avoid, suppress, or “get over” as quickly as possible. If we’re serious about being loving, faithful, or spiritually mature, anger must mean we’ve failed somehow.

But what if that isn’t true? What if some forms of anger are not only healthy, but necessary?

Spiritually healthy anger is not about rage or destruction. It is a boundary-upholding, non-hostile emotion that arises when something sacred is being violated, whether it is your dignity, another person’s safety, or the truth itself. When tended with care, anger becomes a catalyst for self-awareness, truth-telling, and positive change.

Anger Can Be a Boundary Signal

One of the most important things anger does is signal that a boundary has been crossed.

Healthy anger tells us:

Something here is not okay.
Something needs attention.
Something needs protecting.

Rather than disrupting inner peace, this kind of anger can actually preserve it. When we ignore or spiritualize away our anger, we often pay for it later through resentment, burnout, or a quiet loss of self. Anger helps us name where limits are needed so that our lives can remain whole.

Not Hostile, But Action-Oriented

Spiritually healthy anger is different from destructive rage.

It does not seek to harm, humiliate, or punish. It doesn’t need to “win.” Instead, it asks: What needs to change? What needs to be said? What needs to be protected?

This kind of anger is often calm, clear, and surprisingly steady. It moves us toward problem-solving, advocacy, truth-telling, or self-care. It fuels hard conversations, not because we want conflict, but because we want integrity.

What’s Under the Anger?

Anger is often the surface emotion.

Beneath it, there is frequently sadness, grief, rejection, fear, or pain that has not yet been named. Feeling overlooked. Being treated unfairly. Watching harm go unchecked. Carrying the weight of injustice for too long.

When we slow down enough to listen, anger can show us the way and lead us to deeper discernment.

Channeling Anger Toward Life

When honored rather than suppressed, anger carries energy. And that energy can be used for transformation.

It can give us courage to speak the truth. It can motivate us to protect the vulnerable.
It can move us toward healing action, whether personal or collective.

Cultivating Spiritually Healthy Anger

Here are a few practices that we can explore:

1. Acknowledge Anger Without Shame

Anger is not a spiritual failure. It is a natural human response that is trying to serve you. Begin by simply noticing it without judgment, correction, or urgency to “fix” it.

2. Pause and Calm the Body

Anger moves quickly. Pausing and slowing through breath, silence, or grounding practices helps prevent reaction and creates space for a wise response. Calm doesn’t mean passive; it means available to choose well.

3. Reflect and Investigate

Ask with curiosity: What boundary was crossed? What feels threatened? What matters deeply here? This kind of reflection helps anger become informative rather than overwhelming and reflexive.

4. Surrender the Need for Vengeance

Spiritually healthy anger releases the burden of personal revenge or seeking to harm. It places justice, outcomes, and ultimate resolution into larger hands than our own, while still taking wise action where we are able.

Spiritually healthy anger is something that can be cultivated, though it might take a lot of work for many of us.

Personally, I have benefitted from resources like therapy, somatic healing, wise mentors, working through the Enneagram, and spiritual direction. And of course, being in meaningful relationships with others who are intentionally cultivating spiritual healthy anger.

When held with care, anger is not an enemy or something to fear. It is often a companion on the path toward truth, dignity, and love.

You might ask yourself this week:

• Where has anger been trying to get my attention?

• What boundary or value is it protecting?

• What would it look like to respond well from that place?

If this reflection stirred something in you, you’re invited to share in the comments. I would love to hear from others, and continue the conversation and journey together.

There is a lot of hard terrain to navigate right now. So much grief. So much uncertainty. So many moments where the ground beneath us feels less stable than it once did.

As faith leaders, we often find ourselves holding not only our own questions and weariness, but also the ache, fear, and hope of others. That is a lot to hold.

In this space, let us consider what it means to be rooted. We know the difference between what is shallow and what can endure strong winds. We know that what survives storms is not what is most visible, but what is most deeply anchored.

A Simple Grounding Practice for Unsteady Times

When the news feels overwhelming, when ministry pressures feel relentless, or when your own soul feels untethered, you might try this brief practice. You can do it in five minutes, or linger longer if you wish.

Read more

I’m writing to share an invitation that has been slowly taking shape in me over time.

As someone who regularly sits with pastors, clergy, ministry leaders, and spiritual directors, I’m deeply aware of how rarely faith leaders have spaces where they are not leading, holding, or fixing — but simply being cared for.

With that in mind, I’m launching the Hawaiʻi Faith Leaders Soul Care Circle, a gentle, place-rooted online community for pastors, clergy, ministry leaders, and spiritual directors. While it’s grounded in Hawaiʻi, faith leaders beyond the islands who resonate with this community are warmly welcome.

This circle is not about leadership strategy or ministry output. It’s about spiritual grounding, simple soul care practices, and honest connection with others who understand the weight and beauty of this work.

Membership in the Soul Care Circle includes:

• Quarterly Zoom gatherings for guided reflection, prayer, and spacious conversation

• Simple soul care practices and reflections to support your ongoing spiritual life

• A private community space for gentle connection and shared prayer

Because this is part of my vocational work as a spiritual director, the Soul Care Circle will be a paid offering (with a monthly or annual option). That said, I never want cost to be a barrier — scholarships are available.

If this feels like something your soul has been longing for, I’d love to have you join us. And if you know of others who might like to hear about it, please let them know!

You can learn more and join here: Hawaiʻi Faith Leaders Soul Care Circle

This is an optional offering for faith leaders. Nothing about your current subscription is changing.

If you have questions, or want to discern whether this is the right fit, you’re always welcome to reach out directly.

With care and aloha,
Larissa

I’m so glad you’re here.

This space was created for pastors, clergy, ministry leaders, and spiritual directors who spend much of their lives tending to the souls of others — and who also need places where they are not leading, fixing, or producing.

The Hawaiʻi Faith Leaders Soul Care Circle is a gentle, place-rooted com…

Read more

We’ve paused. We’ve looked back. We’ve named the terrain of 2025—the peaks, the valleys, the surprising shifts. If you took the time to slow down with the reflection questions from my previous post, End-of-Year Reflection for 2025, your soul is likely already whispering clues about the path ahead. You can read the post here:

Now, as we stand on the threshold of a new year, it’s time to lean in and listen closely to that whisper.

Visioning for a new year isn’t about setting rigid, exhausting goals. It isn’t about magically turning into your fantasy self. It’s about discerning the tender invitations that life is extending to you. It’s about creating space for grace, hope, and possibility, knowing that true growth often arises from a place of open-handedness rather than striving.

The deepest work of New Year visioning is simply to notice what your spirit is leaning toward. What is stirring in your mind, body, and soul as you allow yourself to dream and create?

Three Ways to Listen to What’s Next

Instead of a daunting to-do list, consider these three simple, soul-centered practices for setting your intention for 2026.

1. Discern Your “Guiding Word”

If you could choose a single word to be your companion, compass, and anchor for the year ahead, what would it be? In other words, ask yourself, “What feeling, quality, or value do I hope defines this upcoming year?”

This word isn’t a taskmaster; it’s a quiet guide. It could be “Spacious,” prompting you to create boundaries and margin. It could be “Courage,” inviting you to finally attempt that big idea. It could be “Presence,” reminding you to stay grounded in the now.

• Write down a handful of words that feel like a gentle pull. Sit with them. Which one feels the most resonant with the needs and longings your 2025 reflections revealed?

2. Name Your Essential Priorities

The secret to a fruitful year is not doing more, but choosing better. Think about the three or four areas where you truly want to focus your precious energy. What are the non-negotiables?

• Example Focus Areas: Rest & Renewal, Creative Expression, Deepening Community, Quiet Study, Intentional Work.

Everything else in your life should gently orbit these central themes. When you feel scattered, return to this short list. It’s your map back home, to your foundational areas of focus.

3. Identify One Small “Brave Step”

We often stop ourselves before we even begin because the vision feels too big. Instead of committing to an overwhelming change, identify just one small, specific step you can take in January to honor your vision.

• If your word is “Nourish,” the brave step might be blocking out one hour every Saturday for uninterrupted quiet time.

• If your priority is “Creative Expression,” the step might be setting up your easel or writing desk in a space where you can see it and touch it every day.

• The smaller the step, the more likely you are to take it, and the momentum will follow. I think of this small step as a simple daily or weekly ritual or rhythm that I can integrate into my life.

Holding Hope for 2026

The new year is a fresh page, yes, but it’s also a continuation. You don’t leave the wisdom of 2025 behind; you carry it with you like a well-earned map. You allow this past season the shape and guide you into the next season.

May your vision for 2026 be one of genuine hope—the kind of hope that isn’t naive, but is rooted in the compassionate acknowledgment of where you’ve been and a deep belief in the gentle possibilities that are still emerging in you.

I am wishing you clarity, courage, and grace as you step across the threshold.

I’d love to hear your guiding word! What single intention are you planting for 2026? Share it in the comments below.

Speaking of new things in 2026, I’ve been working on something new with a dear friend! You’ll find out soon over at The Serene-ish Podcast with Brenda and Larissa

As the year draws to a close, many of us feel a natural pull to pause and notice what the past twelve months have held. Every December, I take intentional time to pause and look back. Itʻs like I made a trek up a mountain, and turn to survey the terrain I covered. This pause is my annual ritual that helps me pay attention to what shaped, surprised, strengthened, and stretched me.

This year, I invite you to do the same. Rather than rushing into January, carve out a bit of focused time - an afternoon, a quiet morning, or even a few unhurried hours - to breathe, reflect, and listen to what your soul has been carrying. Wisdom often rises in the quiet spaces where we allow ourselves to acknowledge both joy and difficulty with compassion. End-of-year reflection gives us space to name gratitude, acknowledge growth and pain, release what no longer serves us, and hold hope for what’s ahead.

If you’re longing for a simple way to honor your year’s journey, consider slowing down with these prompts. You can reflect alone or alongside a friend or small group.

Below is a set of twelve questions to guide you into deeper clarity as we pause on the threshold of a new year. Light a candle, turn off your devices, and just listen. The goal is not to capture everything, but to listen until you hear the quiet wisdom that 2025 has waiting for you.

Reflection Questions for 2025

1. If you had to name 2025, what would it be?
What three words capture its essence?

2. What happened this year that surprised you?
New connections, shifts in plans, changes in perspective, unexpected discoveries.

3. What brought you joy or felt life-giving?

Rituals, sacred moments, creativity, beauty, people, or simple delights.

4. What felt difficult, and what did you learn from it?
Loss, fear, conflict, uncertainty, disappointment, or inner growth.

5. How did you grow and change this year?
Emotionally, spiritually, relationally, creatively, or professionally.

6. What habits, practices, or rhythms served you this year?
Rhythms that supported your health, soul, art, or work.

7. What didn’t serve you anymore?
Fears, habits, relationships, patterns, or expectations you’re ready to release.

8. Which relationships nourished or shaped you?
People who offered support, encouragement, challenge, or joy.

9. What did you create or attempt?
Projects, ideas, or risks you pursued - and what they revealed about you.

10. What desires or longings surfaced in you this year?
Inner movements or hopes that may be pointing you toward something new.

11. What does your soul most need going into 2026?
Healing, rest, community, challenge, purpose, freedom, clarity, or something else.

12. What are you hoping for in 2026?
As you imagine looking back on December 31, 2026, what feeling, quality, or value do you hope defined the year?

If you’d like a printable version of these questions, you can download the PDF below.

2025 Reflections PDF

A Few Notes as You Reflect

• This isn’t about assessing “success,” like a performance review. Let compassion (not judgement) guide you.

• You can journal, pray, paint, meditate, or talk through these questions with someone you trust.

• I suggest returning to these questions across multiple sessions. Don’t rush; go at a pace that feels good for you.

• If you’d like to process your reflections with support, I’d be honored to meet with you for a one-on-one spiritual direction session.

Invitation for Community + Connection

I’d love to hear how these reflection prompts resonate with you. If one question sparked an insight, please share it below. Or simply tell me the one word you’re choosing to define your 2025.

May this practice of looking back become a way of leaning in to gratitude, to growth, and to what’s still emerging in you.

Share this post with a friend who needs a slow, gentle pause this December.

Iʻll be sharing some thoughts about visioning for the new year as we get closer to January.

Every December, I return to the quiet rhythm of Advent. It’s become an annual practice for me; a way of slowing down, noticing my longings, and making space for God in the midst of a season that can easily sweep us into busyness and distraction.

Advent comes from the Christian tradition, marking the four weeks before Christmas as a time of preparation and expectation. The word advent comes from the Latin adventus, meaning “coming.” Historically, Christians have used this season to remember their longing for a Savior and to wait with hope for Christ’s arrival, both in the manger long ago and in the promise of future restoration.

But even beyond its religious roots, Advent speaks to something deeply and universally human. It’s a season that honors waiting, longing, reflection, and the courage to hope when the world feels uncertain. Anyone who has ever sat in the tension between what is and what they hope for can find themselves in the story of Advent.

Why Advent Matters

In the midst of celebrations, music, gatherings, and gift-giving, Advent invites us to pause and remember:

• that we live with both darkness and light

• that we carry hopes not yet fulfilled

• that our souls need space, rest, and honesty

• that new beginnings often start quietly, slowly, tenderly

Whether or not you identify with Christian faith, Advent offers a rhythm that makes room for reflection:

Where am I longing for healing?
What am I waiting for?
Where do I sense God (or hope, light, or Divine Presence) drawing near?
What needs tending in my inner life as the year draws to a close?

These questions belong to all of us.

A Simple Practice: Bringing Light Into the Darkness

For centuries, Christians have marked Advent with an Advent wreath - four candles arranged in a circle, with a central Christ candle that is lit on Christmas. Each week, a candle is lit to symbolize growing light in darkness, hope in winter, the promise of what is coming.

While the tradition is Christian, the symbolism is universal. Many cultures light candles in this season as a way of honoring hope, gathering warmth, and welcoming light.

There is no rigid meaning assigned to each candle, though common themes include:

• hope

• peace

• joy

• love

Others reflect on figures in the nativity story - Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, the angels, the wise men. You can follow traditional symbolism or choose your own themes for reflection.

If you don’t have a wreath, any candles will do. What matters is the intention: a small pause each week to acknowledge your longings, your prayers, your hopes, and the places where you are watching for God.

Weekly Readings & Reflections

I’ve created a set of simple Advent readings and prayers you can use personally, with your family, or within your community. They are grounded in the Christian story while remaining spacious enough for anyone on a spiritual journey.

• Week 1: Waiting

• Week 2: Forgiveness

• Week 3: Joy

• Week 4: The Coming of Christ

• Christmas Celebration

Click on each link above to download the readings or sign up here to receive them directly in your inbox.

Use them exactly as written, or adapt them to fit your tradition, your language, or your season of life.

A Prayer for the Season

As we enter this season, may we make room for quiet and for honest longing.
May hope find us where we are.
May light grow in us and through us.
And may the coming of Christ, however we understand that mystery,
draw us toward healing, peace, and renewed joy.

How Are You Entering Advent?

Do you have practices or traditions for this season of reflection? Are you observing Advent this year, or creating your own rhythm of slowing down?

I’d love to hear in the comments.

Most of us move through our weeks carrying more than we realize. There are conversations that linger, emotions that build up, decisions we’ve delayed, exhaustion we haven’t tended to. Daily spiritual practices give us a gentle touchpoint with God, but weekly practices offer something different: a rhythm of deeper reflection, recalibration, and rest.

Think of weekly spiritual practices as anchor points for you to gather the threads of your life, breathe, and return to what matters most.

In this guide, we’ll explore how to craft a weekly rhythm of soul care that fits your real life, holds space for your humanity, and nurtures your connection with God.

Why Weekly Practices Matter

Weekly practices help you:

• Look back with clarity and compassion

• Notice God’s presence across the days

• Realign with your values instead of your busyness

• Create intentional spaces of rest, creativity, and renewal

• Sustain your long-term spiritual formation

While daily practices tend to be short and simple, weekly practices invite depth through a slower rhythm that cultivates awareness and grounding.

What a Weekly Spiritual Rhythm Can Look Like

Over time, I have developed a weekly rhythm that works for me. In essence, I have certain weekly times built into my schedule that serve as a spacious pause. They are time blocked into my calendar and planner in an ongoing way:

• Monday Pause - a time to check in with my soul, listen to God, and identify my intentions for the week.

• Friday Pause - a time to breathe, process and release anything lingering from the week, and shift into the weekend with intention.

• Sunday Day of Rest - a half or full day to savor being with family and friends, pause on anything that is life-draining, and engage in the activities that are life-giving.

There is no single “right” way to structure your week. What works for you will need to fit with your unique personality, life, values, and context. What matters is choosing practices that feel life-giving, sustainable, and aligned with you.

Here are some rhythms to consider:

1. A Weekly Examen

Create space to reflect on your week with God by asking:

• Where did I feel most connected, alive, open?

• Where did I feel drained, closed, or overwhelmed?

• What invitations is God extending to me now?

You can journal, speak aloud in prayer, or simply sit in quiet reflection.

2. A Weekly Sabbath or Rest Window

This could be a full day, a spacious afternoon, even a two-hour block where you intentionally shift gears.

Choose restorative activities that help your soul settle: reading, walking, napping, creating art, being in nature, or doing absolutely nothing. If you are a spiritual leader, pastor, or clergy, practice this on a day when you are not leading and ministering to others.

3. A Weekly Gathering or Connection Point

Many people find spiritual nourishment through relationships. This may be:

• A faith community service

• A small group

• A check-in with a spiritual director or trusted friend

• A family ritual that creates connection

The point isn’t the event or program - it’s the grounding you receive through meaningful relationships.

4. A Weekly Practice of Letting Go

At the end of your week, name what you’re releasing:

• Tension in your body

• A fear or pressure you’ve been carrying

• A decision you’ve been stuck on

• A mistake or moment that needs compassion

You might write these down, speak them aloud, or pray: “I release these things.” If you process through doing physical activities like running or walking, do that.

5. A Weekly Intention for the Week Ahead

Instead of creating a long list of goals, choose one spiritual intention:

• “Move gently.”

• “Practice presence.”

• “Listen deeply.”

• “Create space.”

• “Trust the slow work of God.”

• “Savor with joy and gratitude.”

Let this intention shape how you move through your upcoming days. You can write this down on a Post-It, and put it somewhere you will see daily.

How to Build Your Weekly Rhythm

Here are three steps to help you form a sustainable weekly practice:

Step 1: Choose Your Primary Anchor

Pick one practice that will hold the center of your week.

Ask yourself: What practice helps me feel most grounded and connected to God?

That becomes your anchor practice. Practice it for a while, and do it for as long as it feels good. If you begin to feel like doing something different, feel free to choose something else or make adjustments.

Step 2: Choose the Day and Time

Look realistically at your schedule. When do you naturally have breathing room? Schedule the time into your calendar or planner.

Common anchor points:

• Monday morning

• Sunday afternoon

• Friday evening

• Saturday morning

• A midweek evening when the house is quiet

Step 3: Keep It Simple and Start Small

Your weekly practice does not need to be elaborate. Start with 5-10 minutes, or whatever allotment of time you want. Allow your rhythm to grow organically over time.

Remember: a weekly spiritual practice is a gift to yourself. Let your desire shape what you do and how you do it.

Reflection Questions for Your Week

Here are three questions you can use each week to begin your rhythm:

1. Where did I notice God’s presence this week?

2. What am I being invited to release?

3. What intention do I want to carry into the week ahead?

Use these in journaling, prayer, or a quiet moment of reflection. If you want to share in the comments, please do!

A Final Word

Weekly spiritual practices help you move through life with more intention, awareness, and peace. They create a rhythm where you can regularly reconnect with your soul and with God, no matter how full your week has been.

Start small. Be gentle with yourself. Let your weekly rhythm become a place of renewal that supports your daily practices and opens you to the slow, beautiful work of spiritual formation.

Recently, I had the gift of stepping away into retreat space with community at the Franciscan Renewal Center in Scottsdale, Arizona — a place created for renewal, spiritual growth, healing, and transformation. I joined the PAX Fellowship Community for a 3-day retreat, a vibrant gathering of leaders, community builders, activists, and creatives seeking peace, justice, and contemplation.

Wow, what a powerful time it was together! We prayed, lamented, worshiped, laughed, told stories, and sat in the kind of silence that lets your soul breathe again.

There is something profoundly healing about retreating in community - when others are also choosing to slow down, to listen, to be with God. Together, we remembered that we are not machines, we are not meant to go non-stop, and that rest is an embodied practice of faith, resilience, and resistance.

This retreat reminded me of the importance of disengagement - not as escape, but as a way of returning home to myself and to God’s presence. We can step away to rest and recalibrate.

One of my favorite elements of the retreat was the healing garden, the desert walk, and - my favorite - the labyrinth (pictured above). Each morning, I walked the labyrinth as a meditative pilgrimage into the presence of God.

You can read the description of the labyrinth below, and if you want to find one near you, here’s a Labyrinth Locator. There might be one near you!

Maybe you’ve been feeling the nudge to step away, to rest, to breathe again. If so, I encourage you to take that nudge seriously. Your soul might be asking for a little room to stretch out and exhale.

Here are a few questions you might carry into this week:

• What is one small way I can say “yes” to rest?

• Where might I create a sacred time of silence or space to just be?

And if you want to explore this more deeply, you might enjoy:

• Book: Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton

• App: Pray As You Go (for guided, prayerful pauses during your day)

May you find the courage to step away and trust that the world will keep spinning while you rest.

With gratitude,
Larissa

Last week, I spent time on a soul care retreat with a few dear friends. It was such a gift.

The genesis of it was simple. For several weeks, I had intended to spend a few hours in quiet with God in nature. But, as often happens, other appointments, meetings, and errands got in the way. The desire didn’t go away, though—it kept gently nudging my heart. Eventually, I shared that longing with a few friends, and to my surprise, they said, “Me too.” So we made a plan. Nothing fancy—just a couple of hours set apart for stillness, reflection, and connection with God, ourselves, and one another.

There’s something deeply nourishing about intentionally stepping away from the noise of daily life. But to do that with others? That brings a whole different kind of grace, intention, and follow-through.

We didn’t need to be “on.” There was no pressure to perform or produce. Just a gentle space for prayer, quiet, and conversation. We shared our intentions and hopes for the time, then went off for our own personal time with God. After a few hours, we gathered back together for a brief time to share what we had experienced.

Soul care in community reminds me that while we each have our own inner work to do, we’re not meant to do it all alone. There's strength in shared stillness and sacredness in mutual presence.

If you’ve been feeling the need for space to breathe, reflect, and be restored, consider planning a soul care retreat with a few trusted companions. It doesn’t have to be elaborate. A day, a weekend, or even a few hours of intention can make all the difference.

Feel free to borrow the original text I sent to my friends:
“Iʻm thinking of doing a mini prayer retreat at a nearby botanical garden. If you want to join me, youʻre welcome to! We could open with a brief check-in and prayer together, and then go off for our personal time with God. Just a low-key way to connect with God and creation.”

Questions to reflect on:
– Who in your life feels like safe company for your soul?
– What kind of space would help you reconnect with God and yourself right now?

However it looks for you, may you find rest—and may you find it together.

Read the other posts here:

Part 1: Cultivating Intentional Relationships: An Invitation

Part 2: Cultivating Nourishing and Reciprocal Relationships

Part 3: Mentorship & Discipleship: Pouring into Others with Wisdom and Encouragement

Some seasons of life stir up a deep longing for guidance from someone who’s been there, who can help us navigate the terrain ahead. We may not be looking for a perfect roadmap, but we are craving wisdom, presence, and perspective. We want someone to walk with us, even a few steps ahead, offering a steady voice when the way feels uncertain.

Here are a few mentors who have shaped me: Pastor Vern Tom, Lei and Bill Naylor, Coach Gundi Dancil, Carolyn Johnson, Chris Rattay, Scott and Jenny Hall, Tracey Gee, Doug and Sandy Schaupp, Jen and Jon Ball, Dr. Larry Crabb, Alan and Gem Fadling, Aunty Brenda Wong, Dr. Christena Cleveland, Aunty Twinkle Borge, Dr. Resmaa Menakem, and Anthony Lee.

Mentors come in many forms. Sometimes they’re formal relationships with people we meet regularly for coffee or conversation. Other times, they show up more informally. They might be a trusted voice in our community, a spiritual director, a pastor, a teacher, a coach, or even someone whose life we quietly observe from a distance.

The key is to be open, and to notice who God may already be placing in your life. Who do you respect for the way they live, lead, or love? Who makes you feel seen, challenged, or invited to grow? Pay attention to those nudges of curiosity or admiration. They often point to someone who could be a guide in this particular season.

If someone comes to mind, consider reaching out. You don’t have to ask, “Will you be my mentor?” Instead, start with a simple conversation. Share a bit about where you are, and ask if they’d be open to meeting for coffee, or talking through something you’re discerning. If the connection is meaningful, you can explore whether there’s space for an ongoing rhythm.

When I’ve asked others to walk with me in this way, I’ve found that being honest about what I’m hoping for—and also what I’m not expecting—helps make the relationship feel clear and spacious. Some seasons require regular check-ins. Others call for just an occasional conversation that offers anchoring perspective. Both are valuable.

Here are a few practices to help you seek and receive guidance well:

• Ask God for guidance. Begin with prayer. Ask God to highlight people whose voices might be meaningful in your current season.

• Be open and courageous. Reaching out can feel vulnerable, but it’s often met with grace and warmth.

• Clarify your hopes. What kind of support are you looking for? Naming it helps both people have clear expectations.

• Be a good steward. Show up on time, honor the other person’s generosity, and express gratitude.

• Stay teachable. Mentorship requires a posture of humility and a willingness to grow.

• Be okay with “no” or “not now.” Sometimes the person you ask may not have capacity, and that’s okay. Keep trusting that the right voices will come at the right time.

Mentors aren’t meant to replace our own discernment or relationship with God. Instead, they help us notice, name, and respond to what’s already stirring in us. Their presence reminds us that we don’t have to figure it all out alone.

Reflection Questions

• Who in your life do you admire or feel drawn to learn from?

• What kind of wisdom or support are you longing for in this season?

• What might it look like to be open and available to receive guidance with grace?

One Small Practice
Think of someone whose presence or perspective has helped you—whether formally or informally. Take a few minutes to write them a short note or text expressing your gratitude. If you feel led, ask if they’d be open to connecting more intentionally.

Read the other posts here:

Part 1: Cultivating Intentional Relationships: An Invitation

Part 2: Cultivating Nourishing and Reciprocal Relationships

I remember a season when two younger friends of mine, both college students, seemed eager to grow. They were navigating all the layers of early adulthood: life transitions, relationships, leadership, and faith. Over time, a dynamic began to form between the three of us. They each looked to me for guidance and support, and they also found encouragement and camaraderie in one another. I sensed an opportunity for something more intentional, so I asked if they’d be open to meeting weekly during the school year. I offered to walk alongside them in a more focused way—creating space for reflection, spiritual formation, and mutual learning. That small step became a deeply formative rhythm for all of us, grounded in care, curiosity, and shared faith.

There’s something sacred about pouring into the life of another—offering your presence, your story, your hard-won wisdom. Not because you have all the answers, but because you’re willing to walk alongside someone else with intention and care.

When we think about mentorship or discipleship, we might imagine a structured relationship: regular meetings, clear goals, perhaps a curriculum. And sometimes it does look like that. But often, it begins more organically—a conversation that goes deeper than expected, a sense that your journey might help illuminate someone else’s path.

I’ve come to see this kind of relationship as a slowly unfolding gift. It doesn’t always start with a formal invitation but with availability. A quiet willingness to listen. A gentle nudge to encourage. A moment of honesty that opens the door to deeper connection.

One way I try to stay open to these relationships is by paying attention to who is already in my life. Who asks good questions, who seems hungry for growth, who might benefit from a little more presence and intentional care? It doesn’t have to be a major time commitment. Sometimes it’s a text, a check-in, an intentional coffee date with space for real conversation. Sometimes it can mean a specific, focused commitment for a season like I had with my two younger friends.

If you sense that a mentoring or discipleship relationship is beginning to take shape, it can be helpful to name it. Sometimes a simple, honest conversation can bring clarity and shared expectations. What kind of support is the other person hoping for? What time or rhythm feels sustainable for you both? When I invited my two college student friends into a more intentional season of walking together, I was clear about the time commitment and the kind of space I hoped to hold for them. That clarity created trust and freedom. It doesn’t need to be formal, but naming the purpose and boundaries of a mentoring relationship can help it flourish.

Mentorship and discipleship aren’t about fixing or instructing. At their best, they are grounded in humility and curiosity. They’re shaped by a desire to walk with someone, to encourage and affirm who they are becoming.

There are so many ways to offer yourself meaningfully to others:

• Share your story. Let people see where you’ve struggled, healed, learned, and are still learning.

• Ask thoughtful questions. Help them listen to their own life and God’s presence in it.

• Encourage thoughtfully. A few well-placed words of affirmation can help someone keep going.

• Nudge gently. You may see possibility or potential in someone before they see it themselves. A gentle invitation can help awaken what’s already stirring beneath the surface.

• Hold space. Sometimes the most powerful gift is simply being present and unhurried.

• Pray for and with them. Bring your concerns, questions, and hopes to God together.

• Offer resources. A book, a podcast, a Scripture—passed along with intention and care.

• Open your life. Invite them into your everyday rhythms—run errands together, cook a meal, go on a walk. Shared experiences create natural space for learning, growth, and deeper connection.

You don’t need a title to be a mentor. You need compassion, attentiveness, and a willingness to keep showing up. And just like peer friendships, mentorship can shift with seasons. Sometimes it’s for a short time. Other times, it stretches over years. It’s okay if a mentoring relationship changes shape or comes to a natural end.

Next week, we’ll turn to the gift of receiving—how to seek out voices of wisdom, guidance, and care in our own lives.

Reflection Questions

• Who in your life might benefit from your presence, encouragement, or experience right now?

• What has helped you feel mentored or spiritually supported in the past?

• What might it look like to offer intentional care without needing to “have it all together”?

One Small Practice
Take 5 minutes to pray and ask God to show you one person you could encourage and support in this season. Reach out with a simple note of encouragement, a check-in, or an invitation to spend time together.

Here is the next post in this series:

Part 4: Finding Mentors: Seeking and Receiving Guidance from Others

Here is Part 1: Cultivating Intentional Relationships: An Invitation

Friendship is one of life’s greatest gifts—a space where we are seen, known, and loved. But meaningful friendships don’t just happen; they are nurtured through intention, trust, and mutual care. In a world that often prioritizes busyness over belonging, how do we cultivate friendships that are truly nourishing and reciprocal?

Friendship as a Practice

Rather than something we passively receive, deep friendship is like a garden that needs care and cultivation. It requires showing up, being present, and making space for one another. This means celebrating joys together, sitting in the discomfort of hard seasons, and offering both encouragement and accountability. A nourishing friendship is one where both people feel valued, supported, and safe to be their authentic selves.

The Gift of Reciprocity

A healthy friendship isn’t one-sided. It’s a rhythm of giving and receiving, of listening and being heard. It’s important to ask: Do we create space for our friends to share, or do we tend to dominate the conversation? Are we as willing to accept help as we are to offer it? Do we allow friendships to evolve, making room for life’s changes rather than clinging to expectations? Reciprocity doesn’t mean keeping score—it means cultivating a dynamic of care that flows in both directions.

Navigating Seasons, Distance, and Change

Friendships, like all relationships, go through seasons. Life transitions—moves, career shifts, family changes—can stretch and reshape our connections. Some friendships deepen through these changes, while others require new rhythms of communication and care. Distance can be a challenge, but it can also create opportunities for intentionality in how we stay connected. Understanding that friendships will ebb and flow helps us hold them with grace, allowing room for change rather than seeing it as loss.

Not Every Friendship Will Be Deep—And That’s Okay

Not every friendship will or should be deeply intentional. There will be varying degrees of depth, longevity, and connection in our relationships, and that’s okay. Some friendships are for a season, while others endure for a lifetime. Some remain at the level of shared interests or casual connection, while others become spaces of deep trust and vulnerability. Honoring the different roles friendships play in our lives allows us to appreciate them for what they are rather than forcing them into expectations they weren’t meant to meet.

Intentionality in Friendships

Because life is full and time is limited, nourishing friendships require intentionality. Here are a few ways to foster deeper connections:

• Reach out. Don’t wait for the perfect moment; a simple check-in can mean so much.

• Be honest and real. Vulnerability fosters depth and trust.

• Make space for regular connection. Whether it’s a standing coffee date, voice messages, or a quick text, consistency matters. For some of my friendships, we have scheduled ongoing bi-weekly or monthly times with each other, which is great for consistency.

• Celebrate and grieve together. Allow space to honor both the highs and the lows with one another.

• Ask good questions. Ask one another things like, ‘What’s been bringing you life lately?’ or ‘Where do you feel most stretched right now?’

• Practice active listening. Give your full attention without rushing to respond. Sometimes, the best gift we can offer is presence.

• Support each other’s growth. Encourage your friends’ dreams, goals, and personal development. Be their advocate and cheerleader.

• Show up in small ways. A handwritten note, a voice message, or remembering an important date can go a long way in making someone feel valued.

• Respect boundaries. Every friendship has its own rhythm—honoring each other’s needs, time, and space strengthens trust.

• Pray for your friends. If prayer is part of your life, lifting up your friends in prayer or sending words of encouragement can be a powerful way to support them.

A Reflection for You

Think about the friendships in your life—who are the people that nourish your soul? Where might you invest more intentionally? And how can you be the kind of friend you hope to have?

Friendship is a dynamic relationship, not a transaction. When we approach it with care, presence, and generosity, we create a space where both we and our friends can thrive.

I’d love to hear your thoughts—what has helped you cultivate friendships that are nourishing and reciprocal? As you reflect on the friendships in your life, what do you sense stirring in you? Join the conversation in the chat.

Here is the next post in this series:

Part 3: Mentorship and Discipleship: Pouring into Others with Wisdom and Encouragement

There are moments in life when we realize that the depth of our relationships matters more than the number of them. We long for connection that is rich, mutual, and life-giving—relationships that don’t just happen but are nurtured with care and intention.

In this four-part series, we’ll explore what it means to cultivate intentional relationships. We’ll look at the friendships that sustain us, the people we invest in, and those who pour into us. We’ll ask what it means to show up for one another with presence, grace, and purpose.

This isn’t about adding more to our plates or forcing artificial connections. It’s about slowing down, paying attention, and being intentional about who we walk alongside. Whether we’re deepening peer friendships, mentoring others, or seeking guidance from those ahead of us on the journey, relationships flourish when we approach them with openness and care.

One practice that has helped me stay intentional in my relationships is doing an annual review and monthly check-ins. At the start of each year, I take time to reflect on the people who anchor me—those friendships that nourish and stretch me. I consider where I want to invest more deeply, where I may need to release expectations, and what kind of rhythm I may want to have for these relationships (every two weeks phone call, monthly hang out, etc.). Then, each month, I do a simple check-in: Am I making time for these relationships? Have I reached out, listened well, and shown up in the ways that matter. This rhythm helps me nurture connections with care rather than letting them drift.

For this first part, I want to invite you to reflect on the relationships in your life. Who are the people that anchor you? Where do you desire more depth and connection? As we move through this series, my hope is that we can step toward relationships with renewed intention and gratitude.

Over the next few posts, we’ll explore:

• Peer friendships: How do we cultivate friendships that are nourishing and reciprocal?

• Mentorship and discipleship: What does it look like to pour into others with wisdom and encouragement?

• Finding mentors: How can we seek out and receive guidance from those who have walked before us?

I hope you’ll journey with me in this exploration of meaningful connection. And I’d love to hear from you—what does an intentional relationship look like in your life?

This is the first post in a four-part series on intentional relationships.

Here is the next post in this series:

Part 2: Cultivating Nourishing and Reciprocal Relationships

Good morning, friends—

Mondays can feel like a fresh canvas or a messy desk, depending on how we enter them.

Personally, I’m rolling into Monday feeling a bit disheveled. My back is sore and tight (hello, 44-year-old body), our house is full with our four kids plus four extra teenagers because our son wanted to host friends for a sleepover, and this week is our kids’ spring break, so all typical weekly rhythms are tossed out the window. Like I said, the word of the day is “disheveled.”

Over the years, I’ve found that a simple Monday ritual grounds me in clarity and intention, helping me move through the week with more ease.

Each Monday, I take some time to pause and reflect—looking back at the past week, taking note of what felt life-giving and what drained me. I acknowledge the small wins, the unfinished to-dos, and the moments of grace that surprised me. Then, I turn my attention forward, asking:

• What do I need most in the week ahead?

• What is one intention I can carry with me?

• How do I want to show up for myself and others?

• Are there any adjustments I want to make to be able to live in a way that feels more aligned?

This practice isn’t about planning or goal-setting; it’s about presence. It’s a way of gently taking stock and aligning my week with what truly matters. Pausing in this way allows me to settle myself and then move into the day with clarity.

And so, I’m curious—do you have a way of easing into your week with intention? If not, I invite you to try this practice and make it your own. If you want to share, Iʻd love to hear about it - either in the comments or by replying to this email.

Wishing you a grounded and grace-filled start to your week.

With care,
Larissa