I woke up before the birds today.
Not on purpose, my mind does that thing where it taps my shoulder before sunrise and whispers, Let’s sit with
ourselves awhile.
So I rolled out of bed, slipped into my Natural-colored “Being” tee, and walked to the kitchen. The house was
quiet, no emails buzzing, no headlines shouting. Just the soft hum of the fridge and the steady rhythm of my
breath.
I filled my favorite mug, watched the steam curl upward, and caught myself trying to rush the ritual. (Sip faster,
scroll sooner, produce something already…)
Old habits. Loud habits.
I chose differently. I stood still.
In that stillness, one thought rose like dawn:

“Presence isn’t a place I visit; it’s a promise I keep.”
A promise to notice how the cotton rests on my shoulders.
A promise to taste the caramel in my coffee instead of letting it blur into background noise.
A promise to wear clothes that don’t beg for attention but gently remind me: Hey, you’re allowed to breathe.

The Story Behind the Tee
When I designed our first pieces, I didn’t want another logo screaming for likes. I wanted a soft nudge, a
whispered invitation to come home to yourself. That little red heart above the “i”? It’s a marker on the map: You
are here. And here is enough.

Reflection Prompt
Find a mirror. Look at your reflection for one whole minute—no fixing, no fidgeting. Ask:
1. Where am I, really? (Mentally, emotionally, spiritually.)
2. What part of me is begging for a slower sip today?
3. How can my clothing become a companion, not a costume?
Write down whatever surfaces. No editing. Let truth land where it may.

Mini Practice
1. Put on your softest shirt.
2. Inhale for four counts, feel the fabric rise.
3. Exhale for six, feel gravity welcome you back.
4. Whisper, “I am here. And here is enough.”
Repeat twice more.

Why It Matters
We live in a world that glorifies the busy and measures worth by output. Choosing presence, choosing Being is a
quiet rebellion. Every slow sip, every mindful breath, every garment that feels like an exhale is proof that you
belong to yourself before you belong to any schedule.
Take this with you today: You don’t have to earn rest. You simply return to it.
And if a soft tee and a steady breath help you remember, then we’re on the right path together.
Take a breath. Read a story. Stay a while →

The Day I Wore the Wrong Outfit on Purpose
Last Tuesday, I had a meeting that felt bigger than me, one of those polished-people, shiny-table situations. My
first instinct was to armor up: blazer sharp enough to cut glass, heels tall enough to say I belong.
But when I opened the closet, my hand landed on an old, sun-softened hoodie, the Natural-tone prototype with
the tiny red heart. Totally the “wrong” choice for the room I was about to enter.
I slipped it on anyway.
The fabric settled over my shoulders like a friend who doesn’t mind the mess. In the mirror, I saw something I
hadn’t noticed in weeks: my actual eyes, not just my anxious checklist.
I drove to the meeting; heart steady, hoodie sleeves half-pushed. The receptionist raised an eyebrow. Someone
in the elevator side-eyed my casual vibe. Inside the conference room, the lead exec smiled and said, “You look
comfortable.”
“I am.” I meant it more than he knew.
The conversation that followed? Clear, honest, human. No jargon gymnastics, no performance sweat. We talked
strategy, but we also talked stories, his daughter’s first art show, and my habit of sunrise journaling. Deals still
got done. Numbers still made sense. Yet the room felt softer, more spacious.
On my way out, he asked about the little heart. I told him it was a reminder: Presence over polish. He touched
the lapel of his own suit jacket, like maybe he wanted a reminder, too.
In the parking lot, I laughed at the invisible rulebook I’d just tossed. Turns out the “wrong” outfit was exactly
right, for my nervous system, for honest conversation, for being.

Your Turn

1. Closet Check
Stand in front of your wardrobe tonight. Which piece feels like a long exhale? Wear it somewhere you think you
“shouldn’t” and notice what shifts.

2. Tiny Heart Exercise
Draw (or imagine) a small red heart on anything you put on tomorrow—sock, cuff, inside tag. Let it pulse like a
secret compass back to yourself.

3. Journal Prompt
Where am I overdressing my life to earn acceptance? Write for five minutes, no edits. Truth often hides in the
margins.
Remember: Authenticity isn’t underdressed; it’s perfectly fitted to your soul.
Take a breath. Read a story. Stay a while →

When Stillness Feels Loud

Ever notice how the quiet can shout?
You sit down, decide to rest, and suddenly every unfinished task starts marching across your mind like a brass
band. The inbox whistles, the dirty dishes drum, and that voice in your head conducts the whole chaotic tune:
“You should be doing more.”
Today, instead of fighting the noise, I tried something different. I imagined each thought as a leaf on a slow river.
Not a raging flood, just a gentle current moving past. I didn’t grab the leaves. I didn’t label them “good” or
“bad.” I simply watched them float by, one breath at a time.
After a few minutes, the current thinned out. The parade quieted. And beneath it all, I found a softer voice
saying:
“You’re allowed to pause; life keeps breathing even when you do.”
That whisper felt like mercy. It reminded me why I created Being in the first place, so we could all wear a little
mercy on the outside while practicing it on the inside.

Reflection Practice

1. Set the Scene
Put on your comfiest piece of clothing, something that doesn’t pinch or posture. Sit somewhere you
won’t be interrupted for five minutes.

2. Leaf-on-Water Visualization
Close your eyes. Picture a slow river. Each thought that pops up becomes a leaf. Watch it drift. Let the
river carry it out of view before turning to the next breath.

3. Capture the Whisper
When the mental water gets clearer, listen for the softer voice underneath the noise. Ask:
o What is it trying to tell me today?
o How can I honor that message in one small action?

4. Write It Down
Open your journal (or phone notes) and finish this sentence without overthinking:
“Stillness is inviting me to…”

Gentle Reminder

Presence isn’t the absence of thoughts; it’s the willingness to witness them without drowning.
Every slow inhale is a vote for your own peace.
Every exhale, a quiet release of what you can’t hold right now.
Wear that truth like your favorite tee—soft, forgiving, and forever ready for another breath.
Take a breath. Read a story. Stay a while →