Restoration has a bit of an image problem.
When we talk about rest, self-love, and refilling our cups, we tend to picture quiet. An empty calendar, a quiet room, a day at the spa, burning candles, or a morning with nowhere to be and no one asking anything of us.
And yes, restoration can certainly look like that. But what happens when it doesn't?
- What happens when restoration is actually vibrant, joyful, and loud?
- Or dancing until 4 AM, and then waking up to the unmistakable scent of fried plantains and fried dumplings, Jamaican style and steamed callaloo, another Jamaican delicacy? Because someone who loves you decided everybody needed breakfast?
- Or when it looks like floating in cold natural spring water, a flock of hens trailing behind you on a farm stay, family gathered around a table loaded with food, or laughter so deep and genuine that for a little while, you forget how heavy your heart has been?
I experienced all of those and restoration was the absolute last thing I expected to find, until that aha moment.
The Unexpected Return to Ourselves
The week began with devastating news. Someone whose wedding I had attended just two weeks prior suddenly passed away. One moment, we were in a room filled with music, celebration, and bright plans for a long future together; two weeks later, everything had changed.
Grief has an immediate way of making you question the ordinary. It shifts how you look at the people sitting right beside you, how you hold a phone call, how you receive a hug, and how deeply you savor a shared meal. It serves as a quiet, powerful reminder of just how precious the life happening right in front of us really is.
But somewhere between the heaviness, life began pouring back into me without any warning.
I didn't recognize it at first. There was an impromptu trip to a natural spring four hours from home, where the water was cold, clear, and unhurried.
Take me to the water and feed me comfort food and a good book. My debut novel, Webs, Love & Fireworks, and nowhere to be. The water worked its magic.
I had a delayed reaction before stepping in, but then I exhaled and let go of all that I was guarding. There was an overnight stay on a farm with a flock of hens acting as our welcoming committee, my aunt's sheer joy during her surprise sixtieth birthday party, and an evening at my cousin's table in Naples watching alligators glide through the pond while dish after dish appeared.
But I also had Sunday morning, and if you have been with me for a while, you know that my Sundays are extra special. We had been out celebrating and dancing until 4 AM, and yet my sister woke up and prepared a full soul-food breakfast.
My sister made us Jamaican breakfast of callaloo, fried plantain and fried dumplings. Love, joy and restoration all in one.
As I stood alongside her while she cooked, preparing to bake Jamaican fruit cake, I suddenly had an aha moment:
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"The question isn't whether a moment looks restful to others, but does the action make you feel like you have returned to yourself, to your center? Do you feel lighter? That is the restoration worth paying attention to." |
Recognizing What Fills Your Cup
At AUBRIEA, we talk often about intentional living, self-love, and creating room for a life that feels authentic to who you are. Part of that journey is unlearning what rest "should" look like and discovering what your personal version of restoration actually feels like.
Restoration doesn't have to arrive wrapped in quiet serenity. It can be a long phone call with a dear friend that keeps you talking longer than intended because your spirit needed it. It can be allowing someone else to take care of you for a change. It can be music, movement, a familiar meal, water, or a room overflowing with the people you love most.
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The question isn't whether a moment looks restful to others, but does the action make you feel like you have returned to yourself, to your center? Do you feel lighter? That is the restoration worth paying attention to. |
As we step into this week, I invite you to pay attention. Notice what softens you. Notice where you laugh freely. Notice the people around whom you can put down your burdens. Notice where your body settles, and allow yourself to receive it fully.
My restoration cup runneth over this week, even when I didn't realize how empty it had become. And perhaps yours is being filled right now, too—you only have to recognize it.
Somewhere between holding shock, grief and gratitude, I exhaled. August suddenly starts feeling like a big hug.
A Moment for You on the Verandah
Where has restoration been showing up in your life lately, especially in a form you didn't expect? Pull up a chair in the comments below, let's hold space for each other. ☕✨
Share this with a sister who needs permission to stop earning her rest and just let August be full.
With sweet Sunday love,
xo, Marcia 🌹
The August Edit
My light comes from taking care of my soul. A few favorites from the Verandah.
RIVAGE by AUBRIEA — the scent of a slow August afternoon.
Heart is Home Journal — seven days of self-love and reflection.
The HER Collection — wearable affirmations for the woman arriving fully into herself.
Webs, Love & Fireworks — the escape you did not know you needed.