There was a time not too long ago when my days felt heavy. When the mirror reflected more ache than light, and I wondered if the pieces of myself I had scattered in love, in Motherhood, in grief, could ever come back together.
I began writting letters.
At first, to someone else. Then... slowly... to the woman in my mirror, I wrote my way back to her.
This space -Blooming in Motion- was born from that Journey.
A space made of slow mornings, deep roots, desert winds, thread of memory and the sacred Art of choosing myself at age 45.
It's is a Journal of healing, a Garden of crafts, a photo album of places that touched my soul, a tiny kitchen filled with nourishing flavours, and whispers of wisdom.
Here , I share the things that helped me remember myself:
• Natural dyes, eco prints and the Magic of plants
• Moroccan Tea & Cultural wonder
• Threads of Poetic Visuals
• The Beauty of aging with intention
• and a softer kind of strength.
“The true fruit of travel is perhaps the feeling of being nearly everywhere at home.”
— Freya Stark
This Blog is not perfet ... Neither am I, Bit it's real, and it's mine.
So if you ever felt lost in your own story, if you're healing, reinventing yourself, growing roots... or Wings -know that you are not alone.
Pull up a chair . . . the Kettle's on... You are deeply welcome here ♡
Love ...
