This journey began with a wake-up call.

At the tail end of a twenty-year abusive relationship, the violence escalated to a breaking point that forced me onto a new path. I had no choice but to let go and allow the universe to take the lead. That tragedy became the greatest gift imaginable — it led me to ask myself one simple question: Is this worth my peace? With that, my perspective and my priorities began to shift. Through much-needed therapy and support, I came to understand how little time we have on this Earth, and how magnificent life becomes when we stop letting small people and insignificant things steal our energy and our peace.

I started by removing the toxic relationships from my daily life. I made the effort to show gratitude and to notice the beauty around me — and once my eyes were open, I found it impossible to ignore that the bounty I'd been begging for had been right in front of me all along.

At first, the question was just a whisper I returned to in the hard moments — a difficult conversation, an old guilt, one more demand on my time and attention. I'd pause and ask it. Slowly, asking became writing. I began putting the question at the top of a page each morning and letting myself answer honestly, without flinching. It wasn't a quick fix, and some days the honest answer was uncomfortable.

Through honest reflection, I found clarity — and things began to happen. People and opportunities materialized almost like magic, sometimes disguised as disasters. When a plumbing failure flooded the lower level of my home, it destroyed years of belongings still boxed up from my divorce — boxes I'd avoided for so long that the thought of them alone was enough to overwhelm me. But the plumber I'd chosen at random from the internet, and the contractors who came after, did more than repair the damage. They helped me finally clear out everything I hadn't been able to face on my own. What had arrived looking like a catastrophe had come at exactly the right moment — and I wasn't only grateful, I was keenly aware of the divine timing. (I got a beautiful new bathroom out of it, too.) These were the guardians who carried me through the mundane and the cataclysmic alike, until I found myself engaged in a dialogue with the divine.

Over time, this small practice became the thing that changed my relationship with my own peace. The question stopped being something I asked and became a filter I lived by.

That practice is what this journal holds. Every page is built around the question that gave me my life back.

My hope is that this journal becomes that same quiet companion for you — a daily place to come back to yourself, to choose what gets your energy and gently release what doesn't, and to remember how much beauty is already standing right in front of you. More than a journal, I hope it grows into a community of people protecting their peace together, reminding one another that we are never as alone as the hard moments make us feel.

I spend my time now seeking out what serves my peace, savoring the small gifts wherever I find them. Whether I'm feeding the cats, digging in the dirt, or simply sitting quietly and soaking in the sun, I am enjoying the gift. That's the peace I hope this journal helps you find, too.