Author: Kaleathia Murphy

Lately, I’ve been amazed at how beautiful the world is. The trees. The sky. Even buildings. I don’t think I ever paid this much attention to the “smaller” things before. Now I catch myself staring really looking like I’ve been handed a brand-new pair of eyes.

My appreciation is on high. I’ve decided to live life on purpose. To notice it. To feel it. To honor each day instead of rushing through it. I don’t know what a day will bring, but I’m excited just to be alive for whatever unfolds.

It feels like I’ve been given a new lease on life. The season when I was immobile feels distant now almost unreal. I can’t believe I’m actually here… moving freely. No constant aches. No fear of falling. No fear of not making it to the bathroom in time. Just movement. Just freedom. Just breath.

My life as it is right now has me full. Completely full.

God truly knows what He’s doing. His timing is perfect. And standing here healthy, moving, noticing I can honestly say… I’m so grateful I stayed to see this day ✨

I’ve decided to start doing the opposite of what I’ve always done. I don’t want my brain getting too comfortable with the norm. Comfort is cute… but growth? Growth is better.

So I’ve been shaking things up in small, almost silly ways. Cool showers instead of extra hot ones. Using my left hand instead of my right. Switching perfumes after wearing the same scent for over a decade. Tiny rebellions. Little reminders to stay awake in my own life.

I want to stay curious. I want things to feel new again. I want to challenge myself on purpose instead of waiting for life to do it for me. There’s something powerful about choosing discomfort in small ways it makes the bigger stretches feel possible.

And lately, the bigger stretch has been social media. I’ve been posting daily for over a month now. Some days I cringe seeing myself so often. I catch myself thinking, Is this too much? But then I remember why I started. I remember my why.

As long as I keep my why in front of me, I’ll stay. Because this isn’t about comfort it’s about growth. And I refuse to let familiarity make me small ✨

Recently, someone close to me became ill. I didn’t know how to process it at first. Part of me wanted to sit still with the prognosis. To pause. To do nothing. To just let the weight of it settle.

But another part of me the part that knows who I am and what I carry didn’t want to lose momentum. I didn’t want to seem insensitive or unaffected. At the same time, I didn’t want to become idle. And that tension? It started to feel heavy.

Then I remembered something I told myself before I even began this journey: Don’t get distracted. Exhaust yourself using your gifts. There is no time to waste time. Everything you learned in the last season was preparation. Don’t let it sit unused.

That shift changed everything. Grief and purpose can exist in the same space. Concern and calling can sit at the same table. Pressing forward doesn’t mean you don’t care it means you understand that your life is still moving.

So yes, I’m pressing forward despite the report not being good. I’m alive and that means I must live. I have purpose. And I refuse to let sorrow silence what I was created to release.

There is still breath in my body. There is still oil in my jar. And while I’m here, I will pour ✨

I choose what I want to hear. I’m learning to focus on what brings me life and if it doesn’t, I dispose of it. No hesitation. I’m in the middle of cleaning up something that once tried to pull me under, and that something is stinking thinking. It’s sneaky like that. It slips in quietly, hoping I won’t notice.

But I’m noticing now. And when I recognize it, I throw it out of my mind before it can settle in. I don’t want it building anything inside of me. I’m realizing more and more that I actually have power here. I get to decide what stays and what goes.

What lives in my mind eventually shows up in my life. It shapes my words, my reactions, my energy my output. So I’ve become watchful. Protective. Intentional. I pay attention to what I watch and what I listen to, because all of it leaves a mark.

Somewhere along the way, I became the gatekeeper of my own mind. And honestly? That feels empowering. Not everything deserves access. Not every thought gets a seat at the table.

I want to grow. I want to be healthy inside and out. That means shutting the door on nonsense and choosing thoughts that help me breathe easier, stand taller, and live lighter. This is how I care for myself now. And it matters ✨

I choose what I want to hear. I’m learning to focus on what brings me life and if it doesn’t, I dispose of it. No hesitation. I’m in the middle of cleaning up something that once tried to pull me under, and that something is stinking thinking. It’s sneaky like that. It slips in quietly, hoping I won’t notice.

But I’m noticing now. And when I recognize it, I throw it out of my mind before it can settle in. I don’t want it building anything inside of me. I’m realizing more and more that I actually have power here. I get to decide what stays and what goes.

What lives in my mind eventually shows up in my life. It shapes my words, my reactions, my energy my output. So I’ve become watchful. Protective. Intentional. I pay attention to what I watch and what I listen to, because all of it leaves a mark.

Somewhere along the way, I became the gatekeeper of my own mind. And honestly? That feels empowering. Not everything deserves access. Not every thought gets a seat at the table.

I want to grow. I want to be healthy inside and out. That means shutting the door on nonsense and choosing thoughts that help me breathe easier, stand taller, and live lighter. This is how I care for myself now. And it matters ✨

I’m currently reading Grit by Angela Duckworth. I’m only on Chapter 4, but it already has me thinking differently. One of the biggest takeaways so far is this: people aren’t just born geniuses. They work at things. They decide what matters to them, and then they do it again and again and again.

What we usually see, though, is the finished product. The polished version. The success story. People don’t want to look at the long hours, the repetition, the frustration, or the quiet discipline it took to get there. The book even mentions something Will Smith once said that there may be people who are smarter or more talented than him, but no one will outwork him. That stopped me for a second.

Because he does make it look easy. But that’s just the result we see. We don’t see the pain, the sweat, or the grit it took to become who he is. We’re looking at the highlight reel, not the behind-the-scenes.

I find myself in a similar place right now. I’m embarking on posting videos on social media, and I’m realizing it takes time. And consistency. And showing up even when it feels awkward or unseen. I won’t lie I didn’t know I had this in me. But something is pulling me toward it. Something keeps nudging me to keep going.

It will take work. And thankfully, work isn’t new to me. I’ve always had follow-through. I’ve always been consistent. Now, I just have to focus that strength in one direction. I believe I can do this. And more than that I’m willing to put in the grit it takes to become who I’m still becoming ✨

I’m capable of doing hard things. Truly. I don’t usually shy away from them. But for some reason, cooking has always been my hard thing. The one thing I quietly avoided. Lately though… something has shifted. I’ve found myself interested. Curious, even.

Mostly because I’ve been craving things my hubby hasn’t cooked. And once he’s taken the time to meal prep for us, I feel bad asking for something different. So instead of asking, I’ve been wandering into the kitchen myself like, well… here we go.

And honestly? It’s been kind of fun. Some dishes have been total winners. Others… have gone straight to the trash with no hesitation. No shame here. Sometimes the food was technically edible but not emotionally supportive. And that’s okay. That’s part of the process when you try something new.

Doing hard things doesn’t mean doing them perfectly. It means showing up, messing up, laughing a little, and trying again. You learn while doing. And ohhh am I learning.

Turns out, even my hard things can surprise me. Especially when I stop demanding excellence and start allowing curiosity. Who knew the kitchen might become a place of growth, grace, and a few questionable meals along the way? 🍽️✨

Have you ever felt comfortable being invisible? I have. For a long time, I believed I was safest that way existing without being seen. Or if I was seen, only briefly. A glimpse. You see me, and then you don’t.

There was a season when being invisible made sense. I didn’t want to take up space. I was mirroring the environment I was in the energy of it. And that energy was thick. Heavy. Hard to breathe in. Hard to be in. So I shrank. I became quiet. I turned into a shell of myself just to survive it.

That choice didn’t come easily. It came after countless conversations where I over-explained myself, only to still be misunderstood. It felt like I was speaking a completely different language. Eventually, I stopped trying to translate. I retreated silently. I didn’t like it but it was necessary. It was the only way I knew how to protect my peace and keep my sanity intact.

You’d think that kind of invisibility would harden a person. That it would make me bitter or closed off. But it didn’t. It made me better. It turned my attention inward. I began to evaluate who I wanted to be and who I didn’t. I wondered if some of the things I disliked in others were reflections of parts of myself. Or warnings of who I could become if I wasn’t paying attention.

That invisible time wasn’t wasted. Not one moment of it. It was a training ground. A quiet classroom. A growing place. Even unseen, I was becoming. And somehow, that makes all the difference ✨

I’ve always been a little… delusional. Growing up, I remember being called a “poor little rich girl,” and somehow that never bothered me. I didn’t let people or circumstances tell me what was possible for my life. In my mind, everything was accessible. Everything was feasible. Flying to the moon? Not a problem. A vacation on my own private island? Obviously. That was me.

The funny thing is, I never thought of it as delusion. I genuinely saw myself as someone good things followed and chased down. Opportunity always felt available to me. Failure? No. Experience? Absolutely. I didn’t deny challenges existed I just believed they’d eventually work out in my favor. And somehow… they usually did.

Even the hard stuff felt useful. Good or bad, it was all good for me. That belief took the fear out of the equation. When you trust that things are working for you, not against you, the worst-case scenario suddenly doesn’t feel so scary. It just feels like another path, another plot twist, another lesson.

Because of that, I don’t stay stagnant out of fear. I move. I try. I leap. And I love that about myself. No matter how things look, I’m curious enough to see where they lead. And if I have to pivot? That’s fine too. Pivots are good. Sometimes they’re where the magic is hiding 💛