God’s River

Everything changes… except this

Things change. Sometimes those changes suck, and sometimes they’re incredible.

Even the incredible changes can throw you off your game. They can take you out of your centre, and if you’re not careful, you might lose yourself. Actually, even if you are careful, you’ll inevitably lose yourself at times. But after 41 years of being human, I’m convinced that losing yourself is part of the journey.

I’m currently going through an incredible change in my life.

For the past few years, I’ve mostly lived alone in my loft. Some important context: I grew up as an only child with a single mom who worked incredibly hard, which meant I spent a lot of time alone. So, I’m very used to having long, quiet, luxurious stretches of time to myself.

But back to the incredible change.

My partner Lilian and I have been working for the past few weeks to clear out my photography storage room on the second floor of the loft. The goal? To make space for Lilian’s 14-year-old daughter, Ariel, who officially moved in last week. She’s here part-time for now, but eventually, she’ll be at the loft full-time.

This is an incredible change for so many reasons.

First, I love Ariel—she’s one of the coolest humans I’ve ever met. Spending more time with her is a huge win. Second, I respect Ariel as an artist. At just 14, she’s already making art across different mediums: stop-motion films, crochet, jewelry, photography—the list goes on.

There’s a fresh, exciting energy at the loft right now. Three multi-talented, hilarious, silly, playful artists living in one space together… imagine the possibilities.

We’re all excited for this new chapter. But even with amazing changes, if we’re not careful, we can easily get thrown off balance.

This morning, I experienced just that.

I got up early, as I usually do, to start my morning rituals, and immediately, I was greeted by an adorable, super-excited 14-year-old who had so many things to tell me. I loved hearing her stories, seeing her joy and excitement—but at the same time, a part of me was thinking:

How am I going to do all the things I’ve committed to? How will I write, make meditations, take photos, and stay grounded?

In that moment, I felt deep gratitude for all the parents out there, including my own, who sacrifice so much time, energy, and space to make sure their kids are taken care of.

I decided to take my noise-canceling headphones off and be fully present with Ariel. I found a middle ground where I could still do my morning stretches, sip my drink, and share some quality time with her before the day began. I also took a moment to speak to that inner part of me that was feeling anxious, reminding myself:

I’ve got you. I’m here with you. Things are shifting, but we’ll find our way. We always do.

We had a fun, light-hearted conversation as Ariel packed her lunch for the day. Before she left for school, I gave her a hug and wished her good luck on her presentation.

Then, as I sat at the kitchen counter in the loft alone, something interesting happened.

I took a few deep breaths, lit some incense, found my journal, and immediately God showed up.

I felt this beautiful, soothing river of energy flowing effortlessly inside my heart.

I was surprised by how easily I found that river.

I was inspired to realize that this infinite river of peace and creativity was completely unaffected by the changes in my life.

And I was delighted to understand that this river is eternal. It’s not my river—it’s God’s river, planted deep inside my heart. And it’s not just in my heart—it’s in yours, too.

It’s always there, waiting for us. No matter how long we’ve been disconnected from it, with a little stillness, a little quiet, a little intention, the river is there—ready for us to step back in.

So, dear Artist, come home to the river of God inside your heart.

It’s here, always, ready for you.

Big Love,

D

PS: Here’s a link to this week’s journaling playlist —> Click Here.