Author: heatherpound

i read the other day 
if you focus on something 
for even four minutes
letting your gaze soften,

your cortisol, the hormone of distress,
needed in small doses 
but havoc producing in excess,
lowers in measurable ways.

(isn’t that amazing?)

it’s gratifying to witness proof
of the importance of instinctual things
and that taking the space to stare 
is exactly what you need. 
 
so now i advise (with evidence!)
remember to pause and stare:
at a candle, a fireplace, the gentle wave of trees. 
the sparkle of the surface or waves upon the sea. 
the ever-shifting, billowing shapes of clouds fluid
or anything such as these.

(but not the scrolling of a screen)

let your busy mind relax, 
your breath to slow, 
your muscles to unclench,
and allow your body 
to literally, chemically
recover peace.

heather pound 2026

Video by my daughter Hannah

This stunning poem by Rumi from the 13th century shows that humans back then, just like humans right now, didn’t like emotional pain. But emotions are vital information about how we are relating to the world around. I had a counsellor that often said, “All emotions are welcome here.” If we only allow the ‘good’ emotions we’re missing out on a huge portion of the clues we need to navigate life. They each have a purpose and a function.

the autumn leaves have come and gone,
now you are wintering, too.

there is no shame,
no hint of failure in this.

there are times when fruit is quickly produced
but that’s a brief portion of the cycle really.

the longer is the preparing of soil,
the planting, the sprouting, 
the watering,
the budding.

it always takes time 
for the harvest to come.
lean into your season
of rest. 

heather pound 2026

There is no shame in the need to rest. Rest is a normal, healthy part of the rhythm of life and nature is proof of this. So, let me say that again in case you need to hear this today, there is no shame in the need to rest.🌿

Photo by Ethan Hoover on Unsplash

as you sit on the wheel of the Potter
it’s ok to be uncomfortable
and learning to trust takes time
and practice.

we’re just not good at letting go
hands at sides, waiting to be formed.

but perhaps it’s the reforming
that is most painful,
when you thought that the pattern
was clear, began to rely 
on the outcome,
but the Potter wasn’t finished,
he was only just beginning.

this part of the process hurts
and it’s ok to be befuddled, unsure,
angry even,
but please be assured 
the Potter always knows 
what he is doing

and the hands that formed the highest bits 
of mountains and the deepest depths of sea,
flung stars across the sky, dazzling
is able to finish the work 
that has been started.

and if you lean right in,
even though this hurts,
and especially let go
of what you thought would be,

you will be amazed.
for the things that he forms
are marvellous.

i don’t know why this has been 
so hard, but in his expert mercy
he does—
just you wait and see!


heather pound 2026

Photo by Earl Wilcox on Unsplash

it caught me off guard 
as i turned onto the highway
that used to take me past the rolling hills 
towards your beach side home

to chats and cuppas and biscuits
already baked for afternoon tea
and we would play our favorite game.

you’d remember the details 
of all the things that i’d relayed before,
your mind still sharp in spite of age
and because you truly cared.

and yesterday, i was unprepared 
for how much it twisted in my chest.
then memories flooded in bittersweet

as the sun peeked through the clouds
highlighting crimson and amber leaves
and the green, green grass of rolling hills.


—Grief can be a visitor that catches us unexpected and unprepared. But grief is not always about the loss of a person, it might be the loss of something rather than someone. Like safety, connection, a community, a way of life or even our peace. Regardless, all grief matters and needs to be felt. Unfortunately, there is just no other way. 

heather pound 2026

Photo by B VV on Unsplash

today, if your heart is achy
please do not despair
for tomorrow’s morning will come
and it might just dawn different.

and today you may sniff
the sweet scent of rain 
as storm clouds give way 
to gentle summer showers
that soften the earth of 
your dried out, weary soul

awakening the seed
of something new
already planted within,
and germination begins.

and maybe all that you needed
to experience this miracle
was to make it through 
today.

                              —"What if I fall?” Oh, but my darling, “What if you fly? (Erin Hanson)

heather pound 2026

Getty Images For Unsplash+

i hope you experience peace 
when the sun ascends soft,
or sets with dazzling hues
at the end of pleasant days

and that you pause to notice
miracles like these—

but i hope you discover too,
when bridges fail and roads are closed,
when footing’s unsure and circumstances 
escalate

to find the place of calm
in the center 
of the storm.

this, my friend, will be concrete proof
that you’ve learned a thing or two
about accepting the uncertain
in the things you can’t predict,
let alone control.

because peace when it’s peaceful
—is easy

but finding the calm 
in the middle of the mess 
is the hard-fought, down in the bones
deep in the soul, radical form of trust
that remarkably 
endures. 

                        
**********
"I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth."
                                                 (Ps. 121:1-2)
**********

Photo by Vincent Dave Agustin on Unsplash

even though logic says different,
a part of you does not believe 
it’s normal to be imperfect.

that you will make mistakes,
miss some detail or take wrong turns
no matter how you try.
but let me remind you,
imperfect is human

and while on your journey
it’s true that you will learn 
and you will grow, i hate to burst 
this bubble, but you will never reach 
that highest
pinnacled peak 
of perfection.

the sooner you welcome this
the sooner you will stop
inflicting self-pain harsh,

striving to walk a path
you were never-ever meant 
to even begin.

so, come on over to the place  
some of us humans live
and join in the ranks of those 
just doing the best we can.

where we don’t stop growing
or trying, but when we don’t 
meet every mark we choose,
we say, “you know that’s okay.
perhaps that goal was unrealistic,
or possibly even unkind. i can
adjust and start again.”

and grow to not fear
your certain, imminent mistakes. 
they are part of the journey,
par for the course, 
yet they do not ever 
define. 

heather pound 2026

Photo by Maria Lupan on Unsplash

i remember how when we were young,
my brother would always pray
not as if he was starting,
but joining in on a conversation 
already in motion.
“and God,” 
he would consistently begin.
“and God,” an ongoing conversation 
with a father who already listened.

later as i became an ‘expert’ prayer
storming the gates of heaven with 
request after ardent request,
i began to grow tired and stretched
and wondered if perhaps 
something 
was inherently amiss…

and while it didn’t appear a gift at first,
i was gifted a season of fragility
where i could do little else
but to sit 
and wait. 
heart wide open,
because that heart was broken.

and instead of all the effort
intensity, the endless cries of ‘should,’ 
the most i could muster was to 
open my eyes,
locate His face
and learn 
that no matter what i did or didn’t do, 
the eternal kindness
of his gaze was always fixed on me.

and together we would sit in silence
until maybe a word or a phrase 
bubbled up and overflowed.
and sometimes he’d whisper back,
“i’ve got this,” or other things like these,
but i would always be reminded that
no matter how weak i am, he’s strong.
and no matter how lonely or tired
discouraged or spent,
he is a fountain of living water fresh

i learned again that prayer
is about connection 
and that i was never meant to power right in
to consume a product, 
make a transaction

but to pause and reflect 
that our Father in heaven is already here,
and when i turn towards his magnificent
loving, powerful gaze
—it’s already turned towards me. 

so really, “and God,” is actually a perfect way
to join back in on this 
ongoing conversation
again.

heather pound 2026

Photo by Hanny Naibaho on Unsplash

 you 
are never forgotten
no matter how long 
the journey has been,
in spite of how alone
the road seems right now.

the heavens
may have felt silent 
for quite an extended time.

but please pause
and recall his promise
that you are still seen
and you are still loved.

your name’s still engraved
across the immortal palm 
of the Maker’s capable hand.
a careful noting indelible 
of something never to be forgotten.
the outward sincere expression 
of an eternally faithful heart

and if right now you’re unsure 
that he recalls your needs
your present circumstance,
keep on knocking at the door 

and wait
for goodness yet to come.

-heather pound-

photo by Kateryna Hliznitsova for Unsplash+