A Grace We Come to Know

We Can’t Harness a Heart

Love is the most powerful life source. We can’t control or own someone else’s feelings. But we can be in love, we can act out of love, we can imbibe love, we can be love, and we can ask for an act of love.
It feels good to love, it feels good to be loved.

Love is the quiet beat under everything,

a rhythm so deep you forget it’s there until something breaks

and you feel it

missing.

It’s not something you chase,

not really.

It’s something you fall into when your guard slips,

when your chest cracks open

just enough to let the light in,

or the mess,

or both.

Love is chaos,

the kind that shows you who you really are

when you stop trying to control everything.

Love.

we don’t get to own it,

we don’t get to name it

or cage it,

or define the edges,

but we can live inside it,

we can stay,

even when it’s hard,

we can hold space even when it hurts,

we can show up imperfect, unguarded,

still choosing

to care

with Love

because

Love…

love is presence,

it’s the breath you take before answering honestly,

it’s the text you send just to say, “I’m here”

it’s the silence you don’t try to fill,

it’s the hand you don’t pull away,

and yeah,

it doesn’t always feel like a spark.

sometimes it feels like

a warm mug in cold hands,

or someone remembering your laugh

long after you’ve stopped laughing.

To be loved

isn’t something we earn,

it’s something we accept,

if we’re only brave enough

to believe we’re worthy.

That’s the grace –

the falling,

the staying,

the learning,

the letting go,

and letting in at the same time.

That’s a grace

I come to know.

Be Alive 🌱
Love ❤️, Julia

Rhyme & Reason

Ripped (what it’s like to watch someone you love get taken)

Strangers (the math we do in checkout lines)

Thread (for everyone still scrolling up)

[section label="Regret, You Silent Sculptor"] [row style="small" v_align="equal" h_align="center"] [col span="7" span__sm="12" span__md="6" animate="blurIn"] Grooves Regret works in the dark. Chisel and mallet, carving valleys in my chest, grooves in my mind, hollows I didn't know were there until I fall into them. It shapes with "what if," with "if only," with the door I didn't walk through, the call that went to voicemail, the words that sat in my throat and stayed there. It keeps reworking my memories, pressing new grooves over old, until I can't tell anymore which version I lived and which one it made. The groove gets deeper. The chisel returns to the same line. I feel it wearing through and I hold still for it like I'm helping. But my hands are moving too. On different clay. Something regret hasn't touched yet. Two sculptors. Same room. One facing what was. One facing what's here. Neither puts down their tools. [gap height="10px"] [ux_text font_size="0.75" text_align="left"] (2018, © Julia Delaney) [/ux_text] [/col] [col span="5" span__sm="12" span__md="6"] [ux_image id="27223" image_hover="glow" depth="1" animate="blurIn"] [/col] [/row] [/section] The past is already carved. What matters is who's holding the chisel now... Be Alive 🌱 Love ❤️, Julia [section bg="24103" divider_top="waves-opacity" divider_top_flip="0" divider_top_to_front="0" divider="waves-opacity" divider_flip="0"] [ux_text text_align="center"] more from this hour: [/ux_text] [gap] [blog_posts style="default" type="row" col_spacing="xsmall" columns="3" columns__md="1" depth_hover="5" animate="blurIn" ids="27202,8949,27229" show_date="false" excerpt="false" comments="false" image_height="56.25%" image_hover="glow" image_hover_alt="zoom"] [/section] [block id= "poetry"] [block id="disclaimer"]

Thrown (you thought you were falling apart…)

It Gives Me Away

A poem about regret that reads like a document stuck on track changes: red notes, rewritten lines, the cursor dragged back, and an undo button that only goes so far

Auto-Edit (regret, rumination, self-blame)

Volcano’s Heart - a raw truth about Grief and Anger

When Love Needs to Burn (a raw truth about the anger stage of grief)

When Someone Sees You for Who You Are

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We Can’t Harness a Heart