Unfiltered

Honey For The Heart - 13

No, today’s post isn’t about Pooh or Piglet
It’s not wrapped in metaphors or woodland wonders
It’s just a hand reaching out through the fog…
Keeping a promise.
I showed up — for the ones who show up here, every single day.
Honey for the Heart #Story 13

Unfiltered. Unplugged. As real as it gets.

Some days… the heart doesn’t want to hum.
This morning, the words weren’t willing to leave their cozy corner.
My thoughts kept circling but refused to land.
Last night, right before I drifted off…
I had begun a soft story — something I thought I’d return to.
I had intended to continue that warm, honeyed thread…
but come morning, nothing inside me felt warm.

My thoughts lay loose, scattered.
And there was a kind of silence within me that didn’t feel peaceful —
just heavy. And empty.

I wondered —
who am I to write about being at peace
when I can’t find a quiet corner in my own mind?
Or speak of sweetness
when all I feel is a dull ache I can’t quite name?

What if the honey I offer today is cloudy, thick, not ready for the jar?

And then… a tiny voice inside me whispered —
It’s still honey.

Not every day can we extract the golden glow.
Some days, the wisdom we offer rises from the very place we ache.
But that… is real.
And real carries weight.

And maybe… that’s where the finest honey is found—
not in perfect jars lined up on polished shelves,
but in the messy, open-handed moments
where we pour what we have — plain, raw truth.

So here I am —
pouring it all… just the way it is.

Maybe you, too, have days when —
your voice… fumbles,
your heart… feels distant,
when everything feels unclear… unsure.

You go silent because the words feel too heavy.
You hold yourself together through ordinary, everyday chores.
You wear a smile that feels borrowed.
You move through a world that spins too fast,
while your thoughts lag quietly behind.

And maybe in moments like those,
you, too, need to hear what I reminded myself today:

Even my mess is lovable.
And my broken pieces… they are prisms — each one carrying tiny rainbows shimmering through the cracks.


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Let Silence Speak