Tag Archives: life

A Gentle Evening Together

Posted on by
Reply

Hello dear friends,

Thank you for stopping by this evening and taking time to sit with me in my little corner of the world. Welcome.

So let’s sit back for a moment with our tea — or whatever your beverage of choice is — and relax into tonight’s message.

Here at Have You Evolved Today, HYET, my goal is to bring an uplifting message to you and to myself. Not religious, just uplifting with a gentle spiritual undertone. And what better way to end our weekend and begin our week than with something positive to carry us through.

As we close out the weekend and prepare for the week ahead, I hope we can all buy out a moment or two to sit in the quiet — a space of reflection and calm.

Tonight, as I write to you, I feel an exhale of busy. I’m sitting here with the wind blowing softly across my patio, and life feels soft, calm, and quiet. I want to encourage you to find your own place of reflection — a quiet place inside your own life where you don’t have to be strong, or fast, or certain. Just present.

Let yourself move gently. Let yourself breathe deeper than you did yesterday. Let yourself trust that even the slow days are held by something greater than you.

As you wind down another weekend, what are you surrounded by? The wind? Family gathered around your table — talking, eating, laughing, maybe even crying? Whatever is going on or wherever you are, I hope you allow yourself a moment to breathe and take things a little slower.

Take a moment for you. Fill your own glass so you can give from the best parts of yourself. Allow your voice, your thoughts, and your desires to be heard because they matter. You matter — to me, but more importantly, to God.

You don’t have to bloom all at once. You don’t have to have the answers. You don’t have to carry everything alone.

There is a grace that meets you in the small moments — in the pause, in the breath, in the whisper of “I’m still here.”

Hope is not loud. It’s not dramatic. It’s not always a breakthrough.

Sometimes hope is simply the soft reminder that God hasn’t forgotten you, and you’re still becoming… even on the quiet days.

Before you drift into the rest of your night, take one more breath — the kind that reminds your body it’s safe to soften. Let the quiet wrap around you. Let hope rise slowly. Let grace do what only grace can do.

PS:
Be gentle with yourself this week.
You’re becoming in ways you can’t yet see.

Evolving in grace,
Dawna‑Rae 🦋

Becoming Who You’ve Always Been

Posted on by
Reply

Part 5 – Where the soul and the self finally meet

“A quiet reminder of who you’ve always been.”

Hello my dear friends,

We’ve made it to Part 5 of our reincarnation series, and I’m so grateful you’ve walked this path with me. I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey as much as I’ve loved writing it.

We’ve arrived at the moment where our soul meets our human — where the two finally recognize each other, finally merge, finally become one. It’s been a beautiful unfolding, and I appreciate you more than you know.

There comes a moment in a woman’s life when she stops trying to reinvent herself and starts remembering herself instead. It doesn’t happen all at once. It happens quietly — in the soft hours of the morning, in the way she reaches for her coffee, in the way she suddenly feels the urge to clear a corner of her life to make room for something new.

It happens in the whisper of a thought she almost ignores:
“What if I’m not becoming someone else?
What if I’m becoming who I’ve always been?”

For years, we’ve carried versions of ourselves that were never meant to stay forever — the caretaker, the fixer, the strong one, the one who held everything together even when she was unraveling inside. We wore those identities like armor, believing they were required, believing they were us.

But beneath all of that… beneath the roles, the expectations, the survival seasons… there was a truer version of us waiting patiently.

Not louder.
Not shinier.
Just truer.

And now, in this chapter of our life, she is rising.

Not because we forced her to.
Not because we hustled or pushed or perfected.
But because we finally became quiet enough to hear her.

Because we finally stopped abandoning ourselves.
Because we finally stopped apologizing for wanting more.
Because we finally realized that the woman we’ve been searching for has been here all along — watching, waiting, whispering.

Can you feel her? She’s returning… and she’s ready.

Becoming isn’t about transformation. It’s about returning.

Returning to our softness.
Returning to our intuition.
Returning to the dreams we tucked away for “someday.”
Returning to the voice we silenced because life got loud.
Returning to the woman we promised ourselves we’d become.

Those dreams we had as little girls — they were our future selves calling back through time, saying, I’ll be right here when you’re ready. Take your time. And when you are ready, you’ll remember everything you once knew.

And here’s the truth we may not have said out loud yet:

We’re not starting over.
We’re starting from ourselves.

This is the season where our soul steps forward.
Where our desires stop feeling selfish and start feeling sacred.
Where our creativity stops being a hobby and becomes a calling.
Where our mornings become rituals instead of routines.
Where our voice becomes something we trust again.

This is the season where we stop shrinking.
Where we stop dimming.
Where we stop waiting for permission.

This is the season where we finally say: “I’m ready to be her.”

Not the woman the world told us to be. Not the woman we performed to survive. But the woman we were always meant to become.

The woman we’ve always been.

What part of you has been quietly waiting to return — and are you ready to let her step forward now?

P.S.
If you feel a quiet shift inside you, that’s your soul returning. Be gentle with her. She’s been waiting for you.

Evolving in grace,
Dawna‑Rae
🦋 may your heart return to itself again and again

My Closing Note

Sometimes the deepest transformations are not loud or dramatic — they’re quiet homecomings. If this series stirred something awake in you, hold it gently. Let it unfold at its own pace. Your soul has waited lifetimes to be heard, and she will guide you if you let her.

Thank you for walking this path with me. Thank you for remembering with me. And thank you for allowing me to share this space where our stories, our echoes, and our becoming can meet.

This is the end of this series… but not the end of our journey together. A new chapter is already forming, and I can’t wait to step into it with you.

For the Women Who Mother in Other Ways-letter 7

Posted on by
Reply

Happy Mother’s Day, everyone.

I know it’s late in the evening, but time slipped away from me today — in the best possible way.

This Mother’s Day held a sweetness I’m still carrying. My boys were here, along with one of my bonus boys. All three of my sons under my roof… it still stirs something deep in me. My daughter‑in‑law was here, and five of my nieces filled the house with their soft presence. It was a quiet, gentle afternoon — the kind that settles into your bones and reminds you of what is steady and true.

Tommy and Kevin each brought me flowers. Kevin handed me a mixed dozen of beautiful blooms, and Tommy gave me a dozen yellow roses. Jagger and Kevin wrote words that reached straight into the tenderest part of me. I could not have asked for a better Mother’s Day.

And yet, even in the sweetness, my heart kept drifting toward the women whose day didn’t look like mine. The women who love deeply, nurture instinctively, and show up wholeheartedly — even when no one names it “motherhood.” The women whose care is a calling, not a title.

So tonight, I want to end this day with a blessing for you — the women who mother in other ways.

Maybe no one has ever said it to you plainly, so let me say it now with the reverence this truth deserves:

You mother in ways the world does not always see.

You mother through presence — through the way you hold space for others to breathe, unravel, or begin again.

You mother through listening — through the way you receive stories that were too heavy for someone to carry alone.

You mother through steadiness — through the way you become a soft landing place without ever being asked.

You mother through the unseen — the remembering, the noticing, the tending, the quiet offerings of care that rarely get named but always get felt.

You mother through mentorship, friendship, sisterhood, and spiritual companionship. Through the way you pour into nieces, nephews, godchildren, students, neighbors, younger women, aging parents, and friends who lean on you more than you realize.

You mother through the way your heart chooses love — not because biology required it, but because something sacred in you knew how to hold.

And that counts. It has always counted.

If today felt tender, complicated, or quietly aching — if you’ve ever wondered whether your love “qualifies” — hear me clearly:

Your nurturing is real. Your impact is real. Your love is real.

There are people walking this earth softer, braver, steadier, and more whole because of you.

So on this Mother’s Day, I honor the way you mother in the margins. The way you mother without a title. The way you mother without applause. The way you mother simply because your heart knows how to hold.

May you feel seen tonight. May you feel valued. May you feel the truth of your own sacred contribution.

Motherhood has never been one shape, one story, or one path. It has always been love — and you have given that generously.

Thank you for the way you mother in other ways. The world is gentler because of you.

P.S.

However this day touched you — with sweetness, with ache, or with something quiet in between — may you end this night wrapped in the knowing that your heart is a gift. Your love leaves traces. Your presence is its own kind of blessing.

With love from my corner,
until next time,
Dawna‑Rae
🦋 may the softest parts of you feel seen tonight