Benefits of Practicing Gratitude

 

Books I’ve Self-Published Over the Years | My Journey as an Independent Author

 

Amazon Author Page

LindarInsights

 

Eleven Months — The Last First

 

Easter Sunday was the last of the firsts.
The last holiday without my father for the first time.

And somehow, I made it here.

Through the days that felt too heavy to move,
through the moments that caught me off guard,
through the quiet spaces where your absence echoed loudest.

Today, I felt something new,
not joy without you,
but strength with your memory.

A little more energy.
A little more breath.
A little more ability to sit in the moment
without being overtaken by it.

I still miss you.
That hasn’t changed.

But Sunday reminded me
that even in grief,
life is still gently unfolding.

And maybe…
that’s part of how I carry you forward.

Resurrection Sunday - Because He Lives

Celebrating The Life of Daria Andrea Roberta Wright

 

No Wright Way

Good Friday

There Is No Greater Love

It's A Thankful Thursday!!

 

Hello April

Hello April 🌿

There's something gentle about arriving here.

Not rushed.

Not forced.

Not trying to prove anything.

Just present.

March felt like a quiet return…

back to writing,

back to reflecting,

back to me.

And this month?

I'm not chasing momentum.

I'm allowing alignment.

I'm choosing:

 💕consistency over pressure

💕peace over performance

💕presence over perfection

Some things don't need to be announced.

They just need to be lived.

April, I'm ready…

not because everything is figured out,

but because I trust who I'm becoming.

✨ Your story was never wasted.

✨ Your voice. Your vision. Your victory.

Thank You, March

March, you asked more of me than I expected.

Not in loud ways. Not in ways that could be easily explained. But in the quiet, steady ways that require presence, patience, and honesty. You were not a month that rushed. You were a month that lingered. A month that invited me to sit with where I am, instead of constantly reaching for what's next.

There were moments this month where I felt clear and grounded, and moments where I didn't. Moments where I moved forward, and moments where I stayed still longer than I thought I would. But I'm learning that both can exist in the same space. Progress doesn't always look like movement. Sometimes it looks like awareness.

March, you reminded me that healing is still happening, even when I can't measure it. That grief can be present without taking over. That my voice doesn't have to be loud to be consistent. And that showing up, day after day, even in small ways, is still something to honor.

You also gave me something I didn't overlook,  you gave me rhythm. The discipline of writing. The quiet return to myself. The ability to sit down and put words to what I'm learning in real time. That matters more than I probably realized at the beginning of the month.

So as I prepare to move into April, I don't feel the need to rush past you. I want to acknowledge you. To thank you for what you revealed, what you held, and what you allowed me to see more clearly.

Thank you, March, for meeting me where I was—and for not asking me to be anywhere else.