"HEALING? that's a new one" 🤔 I hear you say.
Allow me to explain.
Over the past few months I've had a massive realisation. I've had to dig deep and strip away many layers of Joy to get to this.
And I haven't been truly honest with you.
I told you that when you spend your evenings and weekends watching Netflix, grabbing a few glasses of wine to the point of numbing (I know because I did it for years) - I said to you, that this made me sad. That it broke my heart. That when you didn't pursue your creative passion and you thought you weren't creative enough - I told you that that made me sad.
I lied.
What really makes me sad and REALLY breaks my heart is something much deeper and much darker.
I'm talking about the wounds and the pain you may be feeling because someone or something hurt you deeply. So badly and filled you with so much shame that you feel like you can't tell anyone about it. What makes me deeply sad is that you can't even speak about it. That your voice is not valid. And what's worse you think it's your fault, that you were wrong and that you are to blame. And that you feel unworthy. And the guilt is excruciating. This, truly, breaks my heart.
The longer our wounds remain unhealed, untouched (because damn that shit is painful AF!) the longer it takes to come back to YOU. The wounds are so tightly shut that you keep knocking on your soul's door, and you're in the dark. No one is coming.
So Netflix n' chill seems like the perfect antidote. Spending your days doing a job you hate doesn't seem too bad, and keeping your creative magic hidden in some small room in your house is OK.
There's work to be done dear Goddess.
This goes beyond style. This goes beyond fashion. This is about re-membering the world is a JOYOUS place to be in, and HEALING IS POSSIBLE. Coming back home is possible.
We get to open our eyes, we get to do the healing and we get to dance in our magic.
And the one thing I've discovered that help me remember who I am, is my creative expression. The raw, the colourful, the profane and the profound. Enter my design obsession with vulvas and ancestral wisdom.
Allow me to explain.
Over the past few months I've had a massive realisation. I've had to dig deep and strip away many layers of Joy to get to this.
And I haven't been truly honest with you.
I told you that when you spend your evenings and weekends watching Netflix, grabbing a few glasses of wine to the point of numbing (I know because I did it for years) - I said to you, that this made me sad. That it broke my heart. That when you didn't pursue your creative passion and you thought you weren't creative enough - I told you that that made me sad.
I lied.
What really makes me sad and REALLY breaks my heart is something much deeper and much darker.
I'm talking about the wounds and the pain you may be feeling because someone or something hurt you deeply. So badly and filled you with so much shame that you feel like you can't tell anyone about it. What makes me deeply sad is that you can't even speak about it. That your voice is not valid. And what's worse you think it's your fault, that you were wrong and that you are to blame. And that you feel unworthy. And the guilt is excruciating. This, truly, breaks my heart.
The longer our wounds remain unhealed, untouched (because damn that shit is painful AF!) the longer it takes to come back to YOU. The wounds are so tightly shut that you keep knocking on your soul's door, and you're in the dark. No one is coming.
So Netflix n' chill seems like the perfect antidote. Spending your days doing a job you hate doesn't seem too bad, and keeping your creative magic hidden in some small room in your house is OK.
There's work to be done dear Goddess.
This goes beyond style. This goes beyond fashion. This is about re-membering the world is a JOYOUS place to be in, and HEALING IS POSSIBLE. Coming back home is possible.
We get to open our eyes, we get to do the healing and we get to dance in our magic.
And the one thing I've discovered that help me remember who I am, is my creative expression. The raw, the colourful, the profane and the profound. Enter my design obsession with vulvas and ancestral wisdom.
Would you like to share your creativity?
A poem, a painting, a service, a recipe, a thought, a word, a book, a doodle. It only matters that it comes from you. This is how we begin to heal.
Yours in Joy & Power,
x
CARO
