Sunday Reset: Emergence
Opening Ourselves to What’s Coming
Hello, cuties! Welcome back to another Sunday Reset, the corner of the internet where we pause, reflect, and do some honest human-being work together.
This week, our theme is emergence — noticing the openings, gestures, and small choices that invite newness, joy, and creativity into our lives. Emergence isn’t frantic or forced; it grows from internal preparation, gratitude, and the deliberate steps we take to harmonize with the version of ourselves living fully and in abundance. The strategies we once used to survive — performances, vigilance, protective habits — can become scaffolding that supports our unfolding into possibility, ensuring that when opportunities arrive, we are ready to receive them fully.
From my journal this morning: March 1. Spring is so close! As I write this, my lips part to reveal my teeth, my light, an ear-to-ear smile. It’s not only the season I’m gesturing to. There’s an opening coming. A birth. I can feel it. And the feeling of it is bright — if it were light itself. Light, like sound, like spirit, can be felt in the body. Like art too.
March is a planting month. A time to lay seeds carefully, to nurture what we want to grow, and to work with resistance rather than against it. Just like a seed, emergence needs both preparation and patience, both inside and out.
I’m someone who often gets tripped up by fear, really just anxiety about the unknown. Lately, I’ve begun to wonder: what if fear isn’t a signal that I’m blocked or that things won’t work out, but a protector of the past? What if it’s actually a sign that I’m getting close to something beautiful, meant for me? Turning it on its head, I started to see fear as an invitation to step forward. For me, one simple but powerful way to answer that invitation is this: taking my fringe off my face, opening myself to what’s coming, and signaling to the world and to myself that I am here, ready, and willing to receive.
A poem from my first poetry collection, The Difference Between Breathing and Swallowing, captures this feeling beautifully:
Red Bird At Dawn
I was born with two images of
myself: walking over water and
flapping my arms up and down as
if they were wings / not defending
myself or leading people on to
think I am anything less than a
survivor let loose in the wind / cut
free from a woman’s body
singing a song to and for myself —
This poem reminds us that emergence, like abundance, is steady, consistent, and intentional. Like wings flapping over water, it unfolds from presence, trust, and small, deliberate gestures — a life lived consistently, without panic.
This week, notice the small openings: gestures that say I am ready, moments when you can step fully into alignment, and the slow, deliberate steps that prepare your life to receive joy, creativity, and possibility. When we practice this collectively, miracles ripple outward — in our work, our relationships, and our daily lives.
Reset Prompts for This Week:
What small gesture can I do this week to show up fully and be seen?
What am I already grateful for that opens space for more emergence and joy?
How can I harmonize my interior with the version of myself living in abundance?
What scaffolding from my past can I now use to support my emergence?
What measured, deliberate action can I take this month to plant seeds for growth, creativity, or opportunity?
Would you like to receive a monthly curated art envelope filled with art goodness from my studio in Paris to yours? Visit the link below to learn more. Merci beaucoup!




So helpful ❤️🌄