Updated 2025

|| Be Gentle With Yourself ||

Hi Kim,

I know I have to practice more and harder. I am frustrated. I can’t get my timing [for my writing assignments] right. At some point, I lost my enthusiasm to write but I know I can’t stop and I need go on and never give up. Now, I am reflecting and asking myself on the things that I should be thankful. After some thinking and motivating, I am slowly gaining back my enthusiasm to write. You know, there are times that I am at a point of giving up. Honestly, it is true. But, I always find myself reading to your words of encouragement and to your articles Dear Kim. Really, those words lift my spirits up. They always remind me that the only thing I can do is to never give up. Thank you Kim, for everything.

Sincerely, A

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🜄 Return to Self

Dear A,

You are not alone in these waves of emotion.
There is a quiet kind of strength in your honesty: naming the truth of both frustration and hope. To lose your enthusiasm and then begin to gently recover it is no small act; it is the sacred work of returning to yourself.

Your heart hasn’t given up. It’s simply been tired.
And even in your exhaustion, something inside you kept reading, kept reaching. That tender choice to continue; that is the language of resilience.

Let it be known: your heart is still speaking. And it is wise.

🜁 Fog to Clarity

Frustration often clouds what’s actually unfolding: growth.
You are not failing; you are integrating. The timing will come.
Right now, your brain is sorting, reshaping, rewiring how it understands pressure and pace. It feels messy because mastery is never neat.

What you’re calling “losing enthusiasm” might actually be a nervous system asking for breath. For pause. For a softer path back to focus.

Clarity isn’t born from pushing harder. It’s born from listening differently.

Let each attempt, even the imperfect ones, teach you something.
That’s how fog becomes light.

🜃 Rooted in Enoughness

Your nervous system has likely carried more than writing.
There is the invisible load of migration. Of motherhood. Of ambition. Of absence… family left behind, safety redefined.

Your body is tired not because you’re weak, but because you’ve been strong for too long without rest.

You are learning a new rhythm: one where self-compassion is not a detour, but the way home.

And yes… there will come a time when your body will know when to stop writing, when your mind will whisper, this is enough, and you’ll trust that voice.

This is not just test preparation. This is nervous system repair. And your body is already responding to the care.

🜂 Rekindling the Inner Fire

You have not lost your fire; it has simply burned low.
But even an ember holds potential.

The way you speak of gratitude, of reflecting, of choosing to keep going: those are sparks. Sacred, slow, but steady.

And even now, your spirit is whispering, keep writing. Not because you must prove yourself, but because something in you still believes.

You have read the words of others, and now, you are becoming a voice for someone else.

Your spirit is not failing; it is forging.

🜀 Standing at Zenith

This letter, your journey, is not just about timing; it’s about trust.
Trusting your process. Trusting your return. Trusting that even the pauses are part of the path.

You are arriving at a kind of internal alignment:
Where the heart remembers it is loved,
The mind clears enough to focus,
The body feels its own dignity,
And the spirit lights up again: not for performance, but for presence.

You are not behind. You are becoming.
And in that becoming, you will one day write with peace, finish with clarity, and walk forward with confidence that is rooted, not rushed.

Please keep going… but gently.
Your learning does not need to be hurried to be holy.

With you in presence,
Kim

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|| AMAZING!!! I passed the CELBAN!!! || Mastering Your Psychology ||

Enouragement

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