destinylaharris

Category: Notebook pages

  • Day Two

    Recovery is strange.

    Everyone prepares you for the surgery.

    Not many people prepare you for the waiting afterward.

    Today has mostly been heating pads, naps, walking a little, trying to get comfortable, and discovering that the trapped gas from laparoscopic surgery is somehow more annoying than the incisions themselves.

    I’ve become very grateful for whoever invented heating pads.

    (Seriously.)

    My body feels like it’s reminding me every few minutes that it went through something yesterday.

    Not in a scary way.

    Just in an honest one.

    Recovery isn’t dramatic.

    It’s slow.

    It’s uncomfortable.

    It’s watching another episode because getting up sounds like too much work.

    It’s celebrating small victories that normally wouldn’t deserve mentioning.

    Like finally being able to use the bathroom.

    Or realizing you can laugh without it hurting quite as much as it did yesterday.

    I don’t have many answers yet.

    Those come in a couple of weeks.

    For now, my only job is to rest.

    And for someone who always likes to be doing something…

    That might be the hardest part.

    — Destiny

    P.S. Healing doesn’t always look productive. Sometimes it just looks like giving your body permission to catch up.

  • 📓 Notebook Pages #2

    Every story starts somewhere.

    Sometimes it’s a character.

    Sometimes it’s a line of dialogue.

    Sometimes it’s just one question that refuses to leave your mind.

    This one arrived as a single sentence in the Notes app on my phone.

    I don’t know the lighthouse keeper’s name yet.

    I don’t know what waits beneath the waves.

    I don’t know whether this becomes a short story, a novel, or stays exactly as it is.

    But I know there’s something here.

    So before this idea has a chance to become anything else…

    I wanted to share the moment it began.

    When a lighthouse keeper chooses silence over truth to avert violence at sea, her restraint is noticed—and an ancient order beneath the waves must decide whether mercy can survive being seen.

    I love that stories don’t always arrive fully formed.

    Sometimes they begin with a single sentence.

    Sometimes that’s enough.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. Where do your best ideas find you? Mine seem to love the Notes app on my phone.

  • Notebook Pages #1

    Before we begin…

    Notebook Pages is where I’ll share the things that haven’t quite found a home yet—poems, story ideas, fragments, questions, and the words that end up in the margins before they become something bigger.

    Not everything I write is meant to become a finished piece.

    Some thoughts are complete exactly as they are.

    And I think there’s something beautiful about that.

    I’ve always written in the margins.

    Not because I ran out of room, but because that’s where the thoughts seemed to belong.

    The backs of receipts.

    Sticky notes.

    The notes app on my phone.

    Random notebooks with no organization whatsoever.

    Half-finished poems.

    Story ideas that arrived at two in the morning.

    Questions with no answers.

    I’ve realized that not everything I write needs to become something bigger.

    Some words are enough exactly as they are.

    So this is Notebook Pages.

    A place for unfinished thoughts, poems, fragments, questions, and whatever else finds its way onto the page before it knows what it wants to become.

    Today’s notebook page simply says:

    “I wonder how many versions of ourselves we carry without realizing it.

    The child who believed.

    The teenager who questioned everything.

    The adult still trying to figure it all out.

    Maybe growing up isn’t becoming someone new.

    Maybe it’s learning how to carry every version of yourself with kindness.”

    That’s all for today.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. Do you keep a notebook, or are you more of a notes-app-on-your-phone kind of person?