#Flowing #Emotions #You’reenough #Teaching #Trying #Heart #0202

#Day25 – The Healing Rhythm of Water

“When the Waves Settle, You’ll Find Yourself on the Shore”

This morning, I opened my journal at exactly 05:05.
This time—this number—has always brought me a quiet magic.
Whenever I see it, I pause… and breathe.
As if it’s a hidden doorway opening for a few sacred seconds.
I read the first line of Day 25:
“Like water, healing flows naturally when we align with its rhythm.”
And I paused again.

Yes.

Healing doesn’t come from force.
It comes when we stop resisting—when we let go of fear, of control, of doubt—and allow ourselves to float.

But today, I didn’t surrender to life in general.
I surrendered to water itself.

As the journal suggested,
I played the sound of ocean waves, closed my eyes,
and began a quiet inner journey—a descent into the deep.

A return to the source.
To where life first began.

With closed eyes and open breath, I whispered to myself:

“When the waves settle, you’ll find yourself on the shore.”

Let go.
Let go of fears, illusions, insecurities.
Let the water carry them all.
Let yourself be held.

And when the waves are done,
you will find yourself.

At the end of the meditation, I opened my eyes with a quiet kind of awe.
I felt something very clear:

Water is an infinite energy—its center is everywhere, its boundary is nowhere.

Like light.
Like life itself.

And suddenly, every single drop felt like a gem.
A living, glowing, unrepeatable jewel.

Water taught me again that healing begins not with doing—but with listening.
To slow down, and truly hear.
The rhythm of the waves, the pulse of life.
It’s all inside us.

This was my reflection on Day 25 of 365 Days with Water.
A moment of stillness,
a rhythm of release,
and a deep return…
to the shore within.

See you tomorrow,
Whit a blue heart, 💙 🌊
Mona

#365DayswithWater

#Day 24 – The Bond Between Water and Gratitude

“Who am I, in the presence of water?”

Today’s journal entry began with one line that immediately struck something in me:
“Gratitude infuses water with life-enhancing energy.”
And I realized… I truly love expressing gratitude to water.

To see water not just as a substance, but as a living wonder—
a mystery, a beauty, a quiet companion to life—makes me feel deeply, unspeakably thankful.

Every morning, one of the first things I do is whisper to my water.
“Thank you.”
For being here. For nourishing me. For simply existing.
And that small act fills my heart.

But this morning, another current pulled me inward.
A quiet, persistent question:
Who am I?
What is my identity?

I don’t know where the question came from—it just appeared, like light breaking through the surface.
And it stayed with me all day.
I remembered an old proverb that says:
“Your identity is like water—try to grasp it, and it slips through your fingers.”

And it’s true.

Even though I try not to create fixed identities for myself,
I still find myself reaching for labels, definitions, ways to explain who I am.
Family, society, culture—they all quietly write their scripts inside us.

When I finally sat with my journal and did the practice—I held my water, whispered my gratitude:
“Thank you for nourishing me.”
“Thank you for your purity.”

And then I drank.

And something strange happened.

I could feel its purity.
Like I wasn’t just sipping water—I was receiving a transmission.
Each swallow felt like a moment of truth.

And then this question came:
Does water try to define itself?
Does it wonder who it is?

Or does it just be?
Flowing. Pure. Present. Essential.

Then I read the closing line of today’s entry:
“Gratitude transforms the ordinary into extraordinary”.

And yes—That’s exactly what happened inside me.
The question “Who am I?” no longer felt like pressure.
It became an invitation.
An invitation to feel myself, instead of define myself.

So I gave myself a gift:
I danced for 12 minutes with my eyes closed.
No music.
Just me.

Asking, not with words,
but with breath, and motion, and silence:
Who am I, when no one is watching?
Who am I, when I let go?

And maybe, just maybe—I began to hold myself a little closer.

This was my experience of Day 24.
A day of soft questions, clear water, and deep, wordless thanks.

See you tomorrow,
With a blue heart 💙
Mona

#Day 23 – Water and Frequency

“Whispers of the Full Moon”

Today began gently.
There was no rush, no pressure.
Everything moved at its own pace.
And yet, I felt a certain heaviness—
a fullness in my head that mirrored the sky:
the full moon in Scorpio, radiant and deep.

Astrologers say this moon carries the energy of karmic release—
a time to let go of wounds, attachments, and patterns that no longer move with us.
So I followed a quiet calling… and went to the sea.

Under the moonlight,
I began to chant softly:
Hari Om Tat Sat
A mantra for truth. For essence. For remembrance.

With my eyes on the moon and my feet in the water,
I walked along the shore, whispering to the elements—
to water, earth, fire, and air—
asking for release, for forgiveness.

The fire’s orange glow, the sound of waves,
the salty breath of the ocean…
it felt like everything outside me was gently reaching inward,
touching places in my body ready to change.

With each mantra, I felt something fall away—
as if fog was lifting,
and my vision, both inner and outer, was clearing.

I whispered another prayer:
May I plant a seed of awareness
in every being I meet.
In every animal, tree, person, and drop of water.
May I live in a green city.
May I walk in light, and offer light.

When I returned home, I opened my 365 Days with Water journal.
And there it was—Day 23:
a call to play 528 Hz, the frequency of love, near a glass of water…
then drink, and observe.
I played the frequency.
Let it fill the room.
Let it infuse the water.

And after a while, I drank.
And I felt it—as if each drop carried a sacred charge,
a vibration of healing and harmony.

I could feel the water flowing through me—
into my cells, into the quiet spaces.
I breathed slowly and rhythmically,
anchoring this frequency deep within my body.

This was my journey through Day 23.
A soft unfolding.
A moonlit alignment.
A quiet symphony of water and sound.

Water mirrors the frequencies we offer.
When we offer it love, it becomes a carrier of grace.
When we offer it breath, it returns aliveness.
When we offer it intention, it becomes medicine.

See you tomorrow,
May we rest in truth.✨
Mona

#Day 22 – Deforestation

Today, I drank a promise.
I sat in silence with a glass of water, just as the journal suggested. I visualized a thriving forest around me — ancient trees breathing, roots deep in the soil, sunlight streaming through the leaves. I whispered the words: “I honor the forests. I contribute to their healing.” And then, I drank.
Each sip felt different. As if the water had absorbed the memory of the forest. As if with every swallow, something sacred moved through me — a kind of agreement between my body and the Earth. A quiet vow sealed in water.
And it reminded me: we can carry this connection into action.
I already try to care for nature — sorting my waste, picking up trash when I walk in the woods — small things. But today, something shifted. Drinking that water felt like an oath. A living contract. I still don’t know the ancient name for this kind of sacred vow sealed by drink, but I felt it in my bones.
And yet, today wasn’t easy. I was tired. Dreamy. The kind of heavy where even the air feels too thick to breathe. Maybe it was the pull of the full moon. Maybe just one of those days where your spirit wants to root into stillness.

So I let myself be like a tree — quiet, unmoving, simply watching time pass.

And somehow, that was enough
🌲
With gratitude for the forests and the silence,
Mona

#Day 21 – Resilience of Water

Tonight, I didn’t feel broken, just… paused.

Not quite tired. Not quite sad. Just frozen in place—like something unseen in the air was holding me still.

On the outside, everything moved as usual. I followed my routines, checked off my tasks.
But on the inside, it felt like the current had stopped.

So I went to the river.
I stood beneath the full moon, letting her light touch my face.
The river flowed, the water hummed, and I stood still—not to resist, but to feel.

With every breath, I imagined the energy of the moon spiraling gently at the center of my forehead.
A soft circle at my third eye, pulling out heaviness, drawing out what no longer needed to stay.
And from above, I welcomed something lighter—a silver light flowing from the moon down into my crown, charging me gently.

It felt like the moon and water were working together: one clearing, the other soothing.
The sound of the stream didn’t ask me to do anything—just to listen.

And in that listening, I remembered: Water finds a way. Always.

That’s what today reminded me.
Even when I feel frozen, something deeper in me is still flowing.
And resilience isn’t always about pushing—it’s about trusting the quiet movement within.

Reflection inspired by Day 21 of 365 Days with Water.

In stillness, water reveals the truth. In movement, it shows the flow of life.

See you tomorrow,
With a blue heart, 💙

Mona

#Day 20 –The Flow of Thoughts

Some days begin like a quiet ocean.
But today, I opened my eyes into a storm.
Not outside—but inside.

My mind woke up already full of judgment, like I had been handed a script before even rising from bed.

I didn’t fight it.
I watched.

I moved through my day—doing, thinking, trying not to fall too deep into the waves.
Trying to be present and still carry the weight of my own expectations.

But by the afternoon, I lost the steering wheel.
And that’s when I knew—I needed to return to nature.
To water.
To breath.

I stepped outside.
The air felt different.
With each step, something softened.
With every breath, the noise began to fade.

And then—something magical happened.
I didn’t just walk.
I entered into a silent prayer.

I imagined the moonlight pouring through my body like a river of light, flowing from root to crown, clearing every wound, every doubt, every belief that no longer belonged.

My mind felt like a washed shore—
soft, silent, sacred.
And in that silence,
I heard peace.

Day 20 of 365 Days with Water.
Its opening words mirrored my entire morning—as if the journal knew what I was going through before I did.

Reading it wasn’t just comforting—it was like seeing my own reflection in still water.
The practice, the breath, the letting go… it all became a dance.

A reminder that:
Thoughts, like water, can carve paths—or wash them away.
And sometimes, letting them go is the most powerful thing we can do.

See you tomorrow,
With a quiet heart, 💙

Mona