There’s a sacred rhythm to release.
Not everything that leaves your life is a loss.
Some things are removed so your soul can breathe again.
I’ve learned not to wrestle with the universe when it starts rearranging my surroundings.
That job, that relationship, that opportunity I thought I needed—if it doesn’t serve my highest good, I bless it and let it go.
No more clinging to expired seasons. No more begging broken doors to open.
When things fall away, I don’t panic.
I pause.
I praise.
I prepare.
Because I know:
✨ What’s being removed is making room for what’s divine.
✨ What’s falling apart is often falling into place.
✨ What’s leaving is clearing space for legacy, light, and alignment.
So I don’t fight the pruning.
I honor it.
I trust the process.
I say yes to the shedding, the shifting, the sacred silence that follows.
This is restoration.
This is righteous perception.
This is me, choosing peace over panic, purpose over pressure, and power over pretense.
Let it fall away.
Let it be easy.
Let it be holy.
