Wellthy Living

This ones for the givers. The ones who show up and again and again, (even when it’s hard, and even when it’s inconvenient.The ones who love and serve in ways that often goes unseen and unappreciated. The ones who’ve loved hard and with their whole hearts – and sometimes thats meant being burned.

The ones who read a post about being a good friend and their heart hurts because they ARE good friends and they never quite feel like it’s reciprocal.

The ones who do the right thing even though they know it may go unnoticed.

The ones who always pour out, but don’t always feel poured into. You give and give and give and sometimes you get tired.

Sometimes your feelings are hurt because why doesn’t it seem to go both ways. Sometimes your heart hurts from disappointment and it hurts deep. You’re resilient. You’re strong. But sometimes you just get tired. So so tired.We just want to say we see you.The gifts you give leave ripples and make marks and change lives in ways you may never know earth side.It’s not for nothing.And even if no one seems to notice I guarantee God does, and he’s proud of you. And sister, let me say one more thing, it’s okay to rest. It’s okay to put down all those things you hold together for the ones you love. It’s okay to give less sometimes and for some seasons. Take care of you. Because you matter. You really really matter.

Love,
Jess

Today marks the beginning of the fire horse year, which is pretty wild considering it only comes around every 60 years… so probably the only one in my lifetime.

The last year of the snake stripped away illusion. It showed me where I tolerate what I shouldn’t and reminded me that strength doesn’t need to be loud, just grounded, consistent and assertive.

I’ve been recalibrating.

When I think about this energy, I resonate deeply.

Fire burns away old patterns. It brings intensity, passion and vitality.

Horse energy is speed, stamina, boldness and freedom.

Together it feels wild, forward moving and truth revealing.

I spent years from age 10 to 17 around horses, riding and grooming them, so that energy is familiar. And as a Sagittarius, fire is no stranger either.

Earlier this year I reconnected with a horse in an equine session. I thought confidence would come naturally. Instead, it humbled me.

The horse responded to what was actually happening inside me, not the version I thought I was presenting.

Where I was grounded, it softened.
Where I was unclear, it tested me.
Where my boundaries were vague, it took control.

Horses are deeply attuned. They respond to what you embody.

That feels relevant for this year.

Knowing when to move and when to pause. When to lean in and when to step back. When to speak and when silence carries more strength.

If we are scattered, it may feel chaotic. If we are grounded and decisive, it will likely meet us there.

For me this year isn’t about being louder. It’s about being clearer. More deliberate with my energy.

Less chasing. Less explaining. More discernment about where I place my time and who I let close.

Freedom, clarity and discernment are my anchors.

That’s what I’m stepping into.

Giddy up. 🔥🐎

What a great idea.

In Spain, a growing number of community plazas are coming alive with the warmth of shared meals, thanks to open-air kitchens designed for local gatherings. These outdoor cooking zones are equipped with modular stoves, prep counters, and shaded seating — turning once-empty spaces into hubs of connection and sustainability.

On cool evenings, neighbors come together to prepare food — sometimes from home gardens, local markets, or shared harvests. These kitchens aren’t about charity or formality. They’re social rituals, rooted in Spanish traditions of communal dining, where everyone chops, stirs, grills, and laughs side by side. It’s a way to reduce isolation, pass down recipes, and keep neighborhood ties strong.

Each kitchen station includes smart waste-sorting bins clearly marked for compost, recyclables, and non-reusables. After the meal, participants sort leftovers and scraps as part of the routine, reinforcing everyday environmental habits. Some plazas even include small herb walls or planter boxes, growing ingredients that go straight into the pan.

The program encourages intergenerational exchange, with elders teaching youth, and newcomers finding belonging through food. It also supports circular living — where the meal, the waste, and the community loop together.

From Madrid’s backstreets to small towns across Andalusia, these community kitchens are quietly rewriting what shared space means — turning plazas into places not just for passing through, but for cooking, eating, and growing together.

Help is an essential component of connection.

In the age of TikTok and Instagram, 30-second Reels, and 15-second watch times, we’re prone to oversimplification. We stylize and categorize at a more rapid rate than ever before, with attention spans that reflect the fast-paced high-stimulation culture in which we live. At first glance, we perceive others based on the surface — an accent, an outfit, a set of carefully chosen signals that we curate and display. But if we left at that, we would never know the complexity of this person, the host of experiences, ideas, layers and even contradictions that comprise each individual. It’s in those complexities that we find the most interesting aspects of a person, and of anything for that matter. That’s where my highest interest lies, in the paradoxes, the details, the messy intricacies that lie beyond the surface and the screens.

24 hours of tears. Then this happened…

Yesterday was heavy and intense.

It was Sept 9, 2025, which supposedly is a very potent day, a 9-9-9 portal that signifies endings and beginnings. Honestly, I’m not even sure I believe in all the numerology and portal stuff, but weirdly enough it matched my energy.

Lots of tears, heartache, questioning of life… you know, the usual midlife stuff. But this time I could anchor it to the energy of the number 9, which is all about completions, endings, and letting go of what weighs you down before stepping into a new beginning.

Maybe it’s all coincidence, maybe it’s cosmic timing; either way, it felt like a good anchor point to reset, release, and plant some new seeds.

So with all the tears out and a conscious choice to reset, I took myself on a date to the local pub for steak night.

It was a packed house, noisy, filled with the energy of people from all generations- a room full of connection.

I sat at the bench table by the window, gave a recognition to those next to me, and enjoyed my meal and the atmosphere. Then it was time to pay and leave.

I went to the familiar hostess of the pub and asked for the bill. She smiled and said, “It’s on us tonight.” She didn’t let me pay.

She had no idea of the intensity of my prior 24 hours or the impact her generosity would have on me. Her act of kindness allowed me to feel seen and cared for.

It’s these sparks of connection that carry us through dark moments and remind us that light shows up in unexpected ways.

So whether there was some bigger cosmic force at play, or I just got lucky, it was exactly what I needed.

I completed my evening with a new spark and a grateful heart.

Connection is medicine as always!

The gap between intention and action is real.

I try to live by my values, but to be honest, it’s not always easy. The most values-driven people I know are often the most frustrated. They care about integrity, connection, fairness… but still feel like they’re falling short.

I see this gap with individuals and leaders all the time and I’ve definitely been there myself.

The real shift comes when you stop treating values as words on paper and start living them as choices in your day.

I wrote about this in my first Substack article, exploring what happens when we shift from values as nouns to values as verbs.

Tell me, when was the last time you chose your values over convenience?

If you’d like to read my article here it is:

Values are verbs Why the most values-driven people often feel the most frustrated

So much gold shared here. What a different world we would live in if they was this level of emotional maturity in relationships.

Reflection is such an important part of relating well and not just in times of crisis.

Esther Perel explains how to have three marriages to the same person by reinventing your relationship over time.

Five years ago, I shared thoughts about finding hope during challenging times, and I feel this message is needed now more than ever.

War, division, and a deep collective exhaustion are everywhere. The kindness that once filled my feed during crisis moments seems harder to find. Instead, I'm seeing more polarisation, blame, and emotional exhaustion.

But one truth hasn't changed: most humans still struggle with uncertainty.

Maybe our greatest challenge is learning to stay emotionally agile in an unpredictable world.

My life's work centres on wellbeing and connection. I know the power of feeling joy, fulfillment, creativity and connection, and the ripple effect these create. Yet it's challenging when, for many, it has become more natural to feel overwhelmed and project that onto others without considering the impact.

This week, watching the news and scrolling through social media, has it become harder to give yourself permission to feel joy, knowing the weight of what's happening in our world?

We may not have control over world events, but we have the freedom to choose kindness, compassion, joy, and creativity in our daily interactions.

Inner power remains our birthright, so I invite you to contribute, even in small ways, to a narrative of connection and hope.

Embrace your wonder, even amid the chaos.

Got ideas that could spark more connection, kindness, or creativity? Drop them below and let's create a ripple effect starting today.

I left the house the other day feeling really good.

I’d just spent a couple of hours joining the dots on some work projects and everything felt clear and aligned. So, to be cliché, I walked out with a skip in my step.

I wandered down the street to do a few errands, I sat in the sun and had some lunch, had a few casual chats. I felt happy and fulfilled and my energy was high.

It was time to walk home, and on my way I noticed my energy started to dip. I thought, “Is this just my pattern? A dopamine rush when things feel in flow, followed by a bit of a meh feeling?”
Maybe you’ve felt that too.

Anyway, on my way, I passed a flower shop. Took a few steps past it. Then stopped, doubled back.
“Maybe if I buy myself some flowers, I’ll get that skip back.”

Inside, music was playing. Middle Eastern, but I wasn’t sure from where. I asked the woman behind the counter.

“Persian,” she said.
“Are you from Iran?” I asked.
“Yes.”

That simple question opened the door to an unexpected and moving conversation.

She’s been in Australia for three years, came here with her husband and kids. Her parents, siblings and most friends are still in Iran.

“How are they doing?” I asked.
“It was very bad… but they’re okay now.”

I saw it in her eyes. That quiet kind of heartbreak. The kind people carry when they’re holding too much, but still have to keep going.

I asked her how most Iranians feel about the regime.

“They hate it. They want their country back.”
She said it so clearly. Not with anger, just truth and sadness.

To her, Australia is a place of safety. "In Iran, if you as much as like a social media post that goes against the regimes ideology, they can come for you. You can be killed.” Just liking a post and you risk death! It’s so foreign to me that it almost feels untrue.

We're so lucky to live in a democracy. We scroll, we debate, we protest. Unfortunately, that freedom isn't universal.

She told me she brought her family here because in Iran, boys are conscripted into the army and she refused to let her son grow up with that fate.

Despite feeling safe, things aren’t easy for her here. She came on a business visa, and when she told me that, something clicked.
This shop isn’t just her livelihood, it’s her permission to stay. Even if it’s losing money, she has to keep it going. If she closes it, they could lose everything.

It’s not just a flower shop. It’s her lifeline. Risk their livelihood, or risk their life. That’s the reality of her choice.

It broke my heart a little. So much pressure. So much sacrifice. So much courage. It takes some much to start over, in a new country, knowing you've left your family and friends behind.

We talked for ages. I just kept asking questions. Not out of nosiness but genuine curiosity and care. She kept opening up.

Two strangers. Talking about war, safety, sacrifice, motherhood, identity. All of it.

I went to leave, forgetting why I even went in, because we were so deep in conversation.

But as I was leaving, she came after me.

“Wait,” she said.
She handed me a little bouquet of dried flowers and said,
“I want you to have this. That was such a beautiful conversation. Thank you.”

I almost cried.

I walked in thinking I needed something to feel better. A small pick-me-up. I walked out with flowers, but not the ones I planned to buy, ones that came with much more meaning and medicine, for both of us.

This is why I say "connection is medicine".

We never know someone’s story, what they might be carrying or what it cost them just to be here.

And sometimes, just taking the time to ask and to listen is more powerful than we think.

Two humans from different parts of the world, crossing paths in a flower shop, and in the space of about 15 minutes we created trust, understanding and connection. This is shared humanity in action.

I walked out with something way deeper than dopamine.

Turns out, the thing I thought I needed, the flowers, weren’t the medicine.

The conversation was.