When life really challenges me, I read my letters. They are two letters that I wrote years ago. One is from a very young me, and the other is from a much older version of myself.

It helps me cultivate a deeper level of compassion and reminds me of how far I’ve come and how much more road I have to travel.

The other day I did something new, I wrote a letter for someone I love. And while the person may never read it, there is some indescribable way that the heart expands to capture the intention of our thoughts and words.

The practice of writing letters in this way generates healing, compassion and love, which is sometimes the bare minimum that life will require from us.