The Sunday Letter — Issue No. 07
Dear Readers,
There’s a winter storm brewing across the southern part of the United States, and here in southeast Louisiana we’ve been buckling down just in case it makes its way to us.
I’m writing this on Saturday evening, the night before this letter goes out. It’s been raining all day and the temperature has been hovering in the low 40s. Cold and wet. The kind of weather that makes you want to slow all the way down and burrow into comfort.
So that’s exactly what I did.
I spent the day wrapped up in bed, scrolling on TikTok, watching a new Japanese drama called Love Begins in the World of If (2025), eating my winter storm snacks (ramen and Doritos), and soaking in a hot bath. Simple, soft, and steady.
I think the quiet lesson here is that preparedness eases anxiety. When you’ve done what you can, you’re allowed to rest.
This Week’s Reflection: On Preparing Without Panic
Storms have a way of bringing out our need for control. We check the weather, gather supplies, charge our devices, and try to brace ourselves for the unknown.
But there’s a difference between being prepared and being panicked.
Today felt like a reminder that you can be ready without being tense. You can take precautions and still choose comfort. You can acknowledge uncertainty and still rest inside of it.
Sometimes safety looks like soup and silence.
Sometimes peace looks like staying put.
Life Lately
Earlier this week, I was deep into packing my room for our move to the new house. Sorting through old things always feels like a quiet conversation with your past. What stays, what goes, what version of you is ready to be released.
It felt less like cleaning and more like closing chapters.
Making space.
Preparing for the next phase of my life with intention.
Currently Watching
I started watching a new Japanese drama, Love Begins in the World of If (2025). It’s still early, but it feels gentle and reflective so far, which is exactly what my spirit needed during this gray, rainy stretch.
What I’m Reading
I’m still making my way through The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. Slowly, but steadily. It feels like the kind of book that wants to be read at its own pace, and I’m trying to honor that.
A Gentle Note for You
If the world feels heavy this week, find something warm.
A blanket.
A bowl of noodles.
A quiet corner.
Preparedness doesn’t have to look like tension.
It can look like softness, too.
Until next Sunday,
Stay safe, stay warm, and be gentle with yourself.
I’m grateful to share this quiet moment with you.
Love,
Iris — xoxo
