Jeanette LeBlanc

Let the kindness and the raw, aching beauty of the universe shatter you over and over again. find peace in the knowledge that your whole is composed of the sum of all of your beautifully broken pieces. because breaking is becoming.

Nothing big ever happens, good or bad, unless the floor falls out first.Let your longing wind you down through that spiral. And know that falling can be the most wickedly awesome and totally safe thing you__e ever done. Down, down, down, because when you hit that solid ground you__l know.You might touch down softly, or you might land in an ungraceful thud. But land you will and when you__e ready, you can stretch your shaky legs, dust yourself off tossing your head back to the heavens and proclaim __ere I am! All that I am, and all that I will be.__nd your heart will still love what it loves. And you will remember that was good in you, and in her. And these memories will comfort and will serve you as you move through life, open to love _ wherever and whenever it finds you.

Turn off your phone, and your computer and your mind. Find your heart center and send it compassion. See the holiness in everyone you meet. Honor it.Know your worth. Know your worth. Know your worth.Accept no less. Become familiar with the space where compromise is unkind. Nurture your exquisite loneliness. Let it teach you. Light candles at every opportunity. Always wear perfume, it helps you remember yourself. Touch your inked ribs lightly when you forget who you are.

We are in this together. None of us truly walk in isolation, even when we cannot sense the presence of another for miles upon miles. Even in the worst of our desolation. Even during our coldest 3am breakdown. Even when we shut out the world and spin in circles until we collapse. Even then the light still gets in. Even then the heart still opens and reaches, tendrils of hope curling and bending toward slivers of light. Upward, outward, in all directions _ seeking light at all cost. One way or another, we all grow toward the light.

No matter how dark the night may get, your light will never burn out.

I hope that I get to see you love what you are. To know yourself as gift and worth and truth. That you see what a huge thing it is to have the courage to break your own heart. That you have chosen wholeness _ even when it has shattered you. And that you will one day see that you can be whole and broken in the exact same spaces, that they nestle side by side _ and that this is the way of things. Not your punishment for wrongdoing, or for not trying hard enough _ but just the way of things. That you can stand and look at yourself in a mirror and see your goodness right there, see the worth of what you bring on the surface of your skin, just like I do. That you trust there is brilliance to come. That you own what is yours to own, both the bad and the good. That you do not insist on owning it all. It was never all yours to hold

That thing you__e afraid of? That label you shy away from? That word that seems too bold? That audacious goal? The life you think you don__ deserve? Aren__ talented enough to have? Aren__ brave enough to claim? Fuck. That. Shit. None of that baggage you__e been carrying around has a place this year. Kick to the the curb. Now. This year only has space for the bold and the audacious and the brave. Don__ try to convince me you are not those things. I know better and your excuses hold no weight here. You are brave and bold and audacious and one hell of a goddess. Always have been. Always will be. So fill every step you take with intention. Then remember that intention is worthless without action__o get a move on, sugar

Write them all down. The mistakes and the blessings and the places you cracked in two. Write the prayers and the tantrums. The sacred and the profane. The open roads and the closed doors. Nothing is permanent.

Deal resistance a death blow and make sweet love to your art all night long. Put on your fishnet thigh highs and your patent leather stilettos and your special occasion lingerie. Seduce the hell out of your own creative soul. It__ time for an epic lap dance. Dance for your paint and canvas, for fingers tripping across keyboard, for the open arms of motherhood, for the layers of flavor in the meals you create. Wind your hips down for the click of the shutter, for the 3 a.m. bathroom poem, for the late night lesson planning

To live this life. To live it with wholeness and gratitude and trust. In the pain and the glory. In the mess and the grace. In the sacred and the desperation. This is the stuff of which real superheros are born.

Life cracks us into unrecognizable shards of former incarnations. Slivers of our hurt and our pain and our shame nestles next to fragments of our truth, our divinity, our fierce reclamation of power.It is this very brokenness that allows us to knit together, kaleidoscope style. And we spin and shift and turn to the light until we appear brilliant, lit from within. Suddenly we are revealed; unexpected beauty born directly from brokenness.We have to be willing to break in order to become.

Why are you so determined to keep your wild silently inside you? Let it breathe. Give it a voice. Let it roll out of you on the wide open waves. Set it free

The audacity is in the living, not in the choosing. You are fearless enough to keep breathing; in the face of loss and pain and humility and gratitude and gifts and brilliance and confusion. This is the amazing thing. Right or wrong can never be anything but small things in the face of your gigantic, intrepid spirit

It__ scary. This love thing. The sweet vulnerability of extension. The naked of __ere I am_. The tentative reaching of outstretched arms. The wide open of hope_Teach me how to be loved. Let me show you how to love me well. School me in the workings of your heart, in the language of your bones. Let my open palm memorize the shape of your face. Tell me the stories of your scars so I can trace them with the honor of understanding. I have been loved by those who didn__ care to discover all that I am. Will you be the one to see me whole?

yes, I have feelingsand no, I__ not afraid of themnot even the shadowy onesthat you__ rather ignorei gather them inwelcome them homegive them space to breatheand light them on glorious firejust to seewhat might be illuminatedwhile they burn