What it means to build a home within
Cultivate Inner Belonging, Resilience, and Deep Self-Trust
Hello love,
In last week’s letter, I shared a threshold moment—a culminating realization that I am no longer willing to build my life on old beliefs rooted in sacrifice, self-denial, and depletion. That I no longer need to become someone else in order to feel at home in my own life.
This week, I want to begin to name what that “home” actually is.
To build a home within is to build a kind of compassionate resilience.
Not the kind of resilience the world often demands of us—one that glorifies pushing through, toughening up, and doing more with less—but a quieter, deeper resilience. One rooted in gentleness, truth, and connection.
It’s a home built on inner safety.
Where we can return to ourselves when things get hard, when things get beautiful, when we’re uncertain or grieving or expanding or overwhelmed with joy.
A home that welcomes all of it, and all of us.
It is the work of turning inward with courage—of meeting ourselves honestly and lovingly in the present moment. Of tending to the parts of us that feel distant, forgotten, or too tender to touch. It’s asking the questions we’ve been avoiding. Having the conversations we were never taught to have—with ourselves.
It’s the brave act of no longer outsourcing our belonging.
Of no longer waiting for external validation, right timing, or a perfect version of ourselves to finally begin.
This work isn’t about fixing, because you were never really broken.
It’s about remembering.
Remembering what we know deep in the marrow of our bones.
Remembering who we are at our center.
Remembering what it feels like to be rooted in our values, to listen to our bodies, to trust our own rhythms.
For some of us, this journey begins in exhaustion—after years of overworking, over-performing, overcomplicating, over-compensating, or trying to be and do everything for everyone else.
For others, it begins with a deep knowing that:
I’m ready to feel safe within myself. I’m ready to come home.
Wherever you are, this work meets you there.
This is what it means to build a home within:
To courageously claim space to pause and meet yourself.
To create a life that holds all of you—your dreams and grief, your joy and fear, your longing and your belonging.
To stop seeking safety outside of yourself and start creating it from within.
To trust that even when the path ahead isn’t fully clear, you hold a lantern of intuition that will guide you.
And no matter what, you are enough.
This work has changed me.
It’s changed the way I show up for myself. The way I parent, partner, create, move through the world, and meet it moment by moment.
It is an ongoing process that continues to evolve as I go. A process that taught me to ask for and receive the support, I deserve, to take my time, to allow space for the natural ebb and flow, the two steps forward one step back, with plenty of rest along the way.
In the coming days, I’ll share more about how this work will unfold for those who feel called to begin this journey alongside me.
But for now, I want to leave you with this reminder:
You do not have to wait until everything feels perfect.
You do not have to be more healed, more organized, more “together” to begin.
The door to this home has always been open and always has been.
And it’s okay if it takes a little time to begin this journey.
In fact, it’s perfectly normal to hover at the threshold, to start and stop and rebuild again and again. Life is a journey after all, and I’m so grateful to be on this one with you.
With love,
Raina
Finding Stillness
P.S. As you move into the day ahead, I invite you to ask yourself the following: What would it feel like to build a home within myself—a place of belonging, safety, trust, and unconditional love? A place from which I can spiral out into the world and spiral back to again and again? There’s no need to have an answer right away, simply let the question be a doorway of possibility.
Next week I’ll share more about why I created this offering, and why I believe this work matters now more than ever.
A READING FOR THE WEEK AHEAD:
The energy for the week ahead rests with the Three of Cups—a gentle nudge to lean into connection, mutual care, and shared joy. This card reminds us that presence doesn’t have to be solitary. It can live in laughter around a table, in the unspoken support between friends (or the occasional longwinded voice note), or in the simple act of letting ourselves be seen. If you’ve been carrying something alone, this week invites you to let someone in. Celebration or acknowledgment, even in small, quiet ways, can be a balm.
We’re moving toward the Eight of Wands reversed, an invitation to slow down and resist the pressure to move fast or know what’s next. It’s a reminder that clarity doesn’t always come through speed—it often arrives when we allow space. At the same time, we’re letting go of the Three of Pentacles, stepping back from over-efforting or relying too heavily on external validation or collaboration. This may be a week to trust your own rhythm more deeply, to release the need to build or produce, and instead tune in to what wants to unfold organically, even if it takes its time.
Remembering: There is plenty of time. I am right on time. I am time. It is safe to enjoy this earth-side experience. I am free and I exist at choice. When I do what I want I magnetize opportunities. (Currently expanding my capacity to live into these beliefs!)
Listening to: Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals on audio and oh. my. goodness. So many moments of pausing, replaying, brain rewiring, time warping, note-taking, ahaing, and the like. Highly recommend. Definitely going on my short list of books that have truly made an impact on how I view myself and the world.
Experiencing: Under the Tuscan Sun for the first time. So many sweet lines in this happy-ever-after sunshine film, some of which I’ll be carrying with me and sharing with you below:
“They say they built the train tracks over the Alps before there was a train that could make the trip. They built it anyway. They knew one day the train would come.”
“Regrets are a waste of time. They're the past crippling you in the present.”
And my favorite which, I’ll be carrying with me and orienting toward in this coming season: “You have to live spherically—in many directions.”
Holding close: The way my kids pause to scoop up worms and slugs from the middle of the path, rescuing them from being trampled by other less observant folks. The way children can be a powerful (even if at first frustrating!) reminder to slow down. What were we rushing for anyway?
With gratitude: The sweet notes, love, books of poetry, and flowers sent from dear friends acknowledging the tenderness and grief of losing our old dog, Dexter. How much it always means to be cared for by community.
One more thing: I am just SO happy to meet you in this space each week! It brings me so much joy to connect with you here. Thank you, thank you, thank you for joining me in this little slice of the internet! xo
INVITATIONS / OFFERINGS:
Creative Support: We are booking projects ready to begin in May! If you know of anyone looking for creative support, branding, design, copywriting, etc. please share the Finding Stillness Studio with them.
Integrative Coaching: A new offering coming soon!
Stille Shop: A wellspring of support for tending to the inner tides.
Did you think of someone while reading this letter? Feel free to pass it along to them ♡
A note on imperfection & typos — Being blessed with the gift of dyslexia means typos often sneak in, sometimes comically. As I continue disentangling from perfectionism and sharing more freely, I’m spending less time editing and trusting it’s okay to show up just as I am. Please know that any typos you spot reflect my imperfect human nature, not a lack of care or devotion. (I know this needs no explanation, but openly acknowledging this part of myself is deeply healing, so thank you for witnessing.)