The Grace of Letting Go

Evening rituals as surrender and soft release.

There’s a moment at the end of the day when I feel the veil thin—
between doing and being, effort and exhale, noise and quiet.

This is where I begin to let go.

I don’t need to journal it all out or solve anything.
I don’t need to be productive with my processing.
I just need to lay it down.
Gently. With grace.

My evening rituals are simple.
They’re less about discipline and more about devotion.
A warm cup of something soft.
A few drops of oil on my chest.
Sometimes I hum. Sometimes I cry.
Sometimes I just breathe.

There’s no right way to unwind—only your way.
What matters is that you let yourself arrive in the quiet.
What matters is that you make space to be held by the dark.

Because the day asks a lot of us.
It pulls and prods and demands.
And we need a way to return.
We need a way to say:
That’s enough for now. I am enough for now.

Let the night be a balm.
Let your bed become altar.
Let your breath remind you that nothing sacred is ever truly lost.

There is grace in letting go.
And there is power in knowing when to.

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We begin with a single spark.

These devotions are part of a living practice—a slow and sacred offering from my own path of remembering, shared in the hope they ignite something along your own journey.

✦

If this devotion speaks to you, I’d love to hear what’s moving through you in the comments.
And if it might nourish someone else—feel free to share it with them, too.
You can also find me on Instagram or visit my website to explore more ways we can walk together.