,

There’s a quiet kind of ache that women like us get really good at hiding.

It doesn’t scream.

It just… stays.

In the sigh between errands.

In the silence after everyone else’s needs have been met.

That ache was with me the night my son was hospitalized.

I was up all night, whispering into my journaling app, sleep would not come, and my chest holding more than my hands ever could.

I wasn’t trying to create anything.

I was just trying not to fall apart.

But then… a whisper came.

Not from me.

To me.

Not advice.

Not a fix.

Just presence.

Be here.

Be still.

Let the cracking open count.

That’s when I started writing them down—these whispers.

And without meaning to, I began to gather the gold dust of my own remembering.

It became The StillPoint.

Not a plan. Not a workbook.

A rhythm.

A place to land when the world won’t stop spinning.

We open on the solstice, just for a few days.

If your spirit has been whispering yes, you can still join the VIP Reveal List:

👉 [Join the Reveal List]

This isn’t pressure. It’s permission.

With care,

Charity

👉 [Join the Reveal List]

We begin on the solstice. 🌞

With tenderness,

Charity