Maybe this sounds familiar: you say you’re “fine,” but your breath never fully arrives. Headlines nibble at your sleep. Money thoughts click like a pen. You love people…and still feel alone in a crowded day.
Today at acupuncture the practitioner said, “Your body feels stressed and depleted — it’s telling a story.”
I smiled. For thirty years I’ve been in rooms making magic for other people — albums, shows, talks — and somehow my own story drifted under the current of metrics. Agents want numbers. Bureaus want bigger audiences. The internet asks for proof.
But none of the deepest things in my life ever arrived because a graph went up. They came because a room got quiet and people felt seen. So here’s where I’m landing: less chasing, more choosing. I’m choosing rooms like this one — our little kitchen-table newsletter — where we can talk like friends who aren’t keeping score.
Fear isn’t failure. It’s a signal. Your body is tapping your shoulder: “Make me safe and I’ll let you love again.” We can work with a signal. We can sit beside it, not inside it.
Love in our times (what it asks of us)
Love right now isn’t fireworks; it’s foundations. Two full people, not two halves bargaining for air. Think of us as two meals — seasoned, nourishing — meeting at the table. The restaurant is cute; the meal is the point.
That takes practice. Athletes train. Musicians rehearse. Hearts need reps too: boundaries without punishment, repair without drama, devotion without performance. When we train the heart, intimacy becomes practice, not proof.
When desperation starts talking → alchemy
Desperation shows up everywhere — in DMs, in late apologies, in the invisible IOUs we write in our heads. It whispers: “Choose me so I can feel whole.” Devotion says: “I chose myself. Now I can choose you cleanly.”
Three things I do when the old wiring shows up:
1. Name it gently. “Oh hey, little contract. I see you.”
2. Complete the gift in the moment. Let the dance, the meal, the kiss be enough.
3. Return to the altar of the body — hand to chest, breath in, breath out — and choose devotion over proving.
Devotion is not a performance. It’s an offering from overflow.
A tiny story (tone tells the truth)
This week I yanked a ribbon off a tree my partner wanted to grow free. Not a scream — tone. He named it. I owned it. We breathed. No winner, no loser, just two humans repairing. That’s love now: not absence of rupture, but the presence of the soft return.
The body opens in this order: safety → connection → joy.
Threat (even a look or tone) raises cortisol and narrows attention. Warm contact and steady breath increase oxytocin and vagal tone — the biology of “I’m okay.” Translation: your body must feel safe before your heart can open.
JOY SNAX (try this tonight)
• Put on one song you loved before you were impressive.
• Dance for 60 seconds like you’re stealing the moon.
• Hand to heart. Ask: “What story am I writing right now — and is it true?”
• Whisper back: “I’m safe enough to soften.”
No amount of outward love will ever grow an incredible relationship unless you have mastered that level of dedication to your own heart.
With warmth & mischief,
Grace Harry 💋
This is how quiet revolutions travel.
