destinylaharris

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  • 📓 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.

  • Learning to Look Closer #2: Just Outside the Window

    My nephew was standing at the window this morning when a tiny robber fly flew up to the glass.

    For a minute, it almost seemed like they were entertaining each other.

    It would fly away, then come back again, hovering just long enough to catch his attention. Every time it returned, he lit up a little more.

    Then it landed.

    I grabbed my phone, quietly walked over, and snapped a single picture through the window.

    One click.

    That was all I got.

    As soon as the photo was taken, it lifted off and disappeared.

    The whole moment probably lasted less than a minute.

    Most people would’ve seen a bug on a window.

    I saw a tiny reminder that wonder doesn’t always announce itself.

    Sometimes it visits for thirty seconds, waits patiently while you’re paying attention, and leaves before you realize you’ve just been given something worth remembering.

    Maybe that’s why I love photography.

    Not because it lets me capture beautiful things.

    Because it reminds me to notice them while they’re still here.

    Until next time,

    —Destiny

    P.S. Have you ever had an ordinary moment that stayed with you far longer than you expected?

  • Brain Static #1

    Before we begin…

    Brain Static is where all the wonderfully unnecessary thoughts go.

    The ones that show up at 2:17 in the afternoon for absolutely no reason.

    The questions nobody asked.

    The facts you didn’t need.

    The observations that make you stop and think, “Why is my brain like this?”

    So…

    I have a question.

    If chickens evolved from dinosaurs…

    …do they taste like dinosaurs?

    I’ll never know.

    But I’ll probably think about it every time I eat chicken now.

    You’re welcome.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s the most random thought you’ve had lately?

  • Between the Lines #1

    I wrote this before this blog ever existed.

    It was tucked away in one of my notebooks, waiting for the right place to live.

    I think it found that place here.

    Scars

    The gods always asked

    for sacrifices.

    Some were given lambs.

    Some were given daughters.

    I was given myself.

    No temple stood above me,

    no choir sang my name,

    yet something holy

    was taken all the same.

    Every pale line

    is another language

    my body learned

    instead of peace.

    The ones across my legs

    look like rivers

    on an old map—

    proof that even broken things

    search for somewhere

    to belong.

    People ask

    if I regret them.

    As if regret

    could erase history.

    As if skin

    ever forgets

    the knife,

    the fingernails,

    the hands that held too tightly,

    the nights that stole

    more than sleep.

    My skin is carved with scars

    that someone else earned.

    Not mine.

    Mine was only the body

    left behind

    after their hands,

    their words,

    their silence

    had already decided

    what would become of it.

    My skin was never sacred.

    It was only the altar.

    They called it survival.

    The gods

    would have called it

    an offering.

    Maybe that’s why

    I no longer pray

    for smooth skin.

    I pray instead

    for gentler hands,

    for quieter nights,

    for a body

    that no longer mistakes

    silence

    for safety.

    If the gods ever come looking

    for the pieces

    they abandoned,

    they’ll find them here—

    written beneath my skin,

    where every scar

    became a sentence,

    every sentence

    became a story,

    and somewhere along the way,

    I stopped being

    the sacrifice.

    I became

    the monument.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. Which line stayed with you the longest?

  • Daily prompts

    If you could erase one trend from history, what would it be?

    If I could erase one trend from history, it would be racism.

    I know it’s not the kind of “trend” people usually think of, but it’s a pattern that humanity has repeated for far too long.

    History is full of moments where people decided that someone else’s skin color, ethnicity, or background made them worth less. Entire generations have grown up carrying the weight of hatred they never deserved.

    Imagine how different the world might look if we had spent all that energy learning from one another instead of fearing one another.

    That’s one trend I’d erase without a second thought.

    Until next time,

    –Destiny

    P.S. – If you could erase one pattern from history, what would it be?

  • Sunday Things #1

    There’s something about Sundays that feels different.

    The week slows down just enough to catch its breath, and for a little while, everything feels a little quieter.

    This week wasn’t the easiest.

    A sinus infection and a stomach bug forced me to slow down in ways I didn’t want to. I missed work, spent more time resting than doing, and was reminded that sometimes our bodies make the decisions for us. It wasn’t the week I had planned, but it was the week I needed.

    ☕ This Week’s Comfort

    Hot showers.

    Clean pajamas.

    A warm blanket.

    And Bailey Sarian playing in the background while I let myself finally relax.

    📷 Through My Lens

    This week reminded me that slowing down has its own kind of beauty.

    One of my favorite photographs I shared was a close-up of a sunflower covered in tiny droplets of water. It’s amazing what you notice when life forces you to stop rushing.

    💭 A Thought I’ve Been Carrying

    I’m learning that rest isn’t something you have to earn.

    Sometimes your body whispers.

    Sometimes it shouts.

    Either way, it’s worth listening.

    ❤️ This Week’s Gratitude

    I’m grateful for feeling a little better than I did a few days ago.

    I’m grateful for people who show kindness without being asked.

    And I’m grateful that this little blog finally exists after spending so long as “one day.”

    Here’s to a new week.

    I hope it’s gentle with all of us.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s one small thing that made you smile this week? I’d love to hear about it.

  • 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?

  • Some Days Just Ask More of You

    I’ve been sick since Monday.

    A sinus infection and a stomach bug decided to team up against me, so I spent a couple of days at home trying to recover. When I finally convinced myself I was feeling well enough to go back to work, my stomach had other plans.

    The morning was a blur of running back and forth to the bathroom, trying to convince myself I’d make it through the day.

    I work with children on the autism spectrum, and every day is different.

    This day started with a hard hit across the chest before I’d even had a chance to settle in. Later, another child spit in my face. The student I work with one-on-one wanted to be attached to my side all day. Normally, I don’t mind. But with my body already fighting to keep up, every touch, every sound, and every demand felt just a little heavier than usual.

    I was overstimulated.

    I was nauseated.

    I was exhausted.

    There were more than a few moments when all I wanted was to go home, crawl into bed, and pretend the day never happened.

    But I stayed.

    Not because I felt particularly strong, and definitely not because I wanted to.

    Sometimes you stay simply because the day still has to be lived.

    By the time I finally made it home, I headed straight for the shower. I let the hot water wash away as much of the day as it could, climbed into bed, turned on Bailey Sarian, and finally let myself exhale.

    It wasn’t productive.

    It wasn’t inspiring.

    It wasn’t one of those days that changes your life.

    It was just hard.

    And sometimes, making it to the end of a hard day is enough.

    Until next time,

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s something that helped you make it through a hard day recently? I’d love to hear about it.

  • Learning to Look Closer

    There’s something I’ve always loved about photography.

    It asks you to slow down.

    Most people would walk past this flower without thinking twice. I probably would’ve too if I hadn’t stopped long enough to really look at it.

    The closer I got, the more I noticed.

    Tiny droplets of water tucked between petals.

    Textures I would’ve never seen from a few feet away.

    Colors that seemed to change depending on where the light landed.

    It made me think about how often life works the same way.

    The things that matter most usually aren’t loud.

    They’re the quiet details.

    The conversations we almost forget.

    The moments that only last a second.

    The people who change us without ever realizing it.

    Maybe that’s why I love writing and photography so much.

    Both ask the same thing of us:

    Pay attention.

    Thank you for looking a little closer with me today.

    — Destiny

    P.S. What’s something ordinary you’ve looked at differently lately?

  • The Girl Behind the Screen

    If you had asked me a few years ago where I thought I’d be today, I don’t think I would’ve pictured this.

    Starting a blog has always been one of those ideas that lived in the back of my mind. I wanted a place where everything I create could exist together instead of being scattered across notebooks, camera rolls, and random apps on my phone.

    So, here we are.

    Since this is only my second post, I figured I’d tell you a little more about me.

    I’m the kind of person who collects hobbies like they’re Pokémon.

    One week I’m completely consumed by writing a new story. The next I’m editing photographs, painting something that probably didn’t need another coat of paint, learning a new skill, or convincing myself I absolutely need another creative project.

    I have more story ideas than I have time to write them.

    I notice little things.

    The way sunlight sneaks through a window.

    How a photograph can hold a memory longer than we can.

    The feeling of finishing a book and carrying its characters around for days afterward.

    I think that’s why I write.

    Because some moments deserve to stay.

    I don’t really know what this blog will become yet.

    One day you might find a poem here. The next day, a photograph that made me stop in my tracks. Maybe a chapter from a novel I’m working on, or a journal entry from an ordinary Tuesday. I don’t want to put this blog in a box, because life doesn’t fit inside one either.

    Maybe it’ll be a journal.

    Maybe it’ll become a scrapbook of photographs.

    Maybe it’ll be where I share poetry, pieces of the novels I’m writing, and whatever else finds its way onto these pages.

    Most likely, it’ll be a little bit of everything.

    And honestly?

    I think I’m okay with that.

    If you’re here this early, thank you.

    I hope you’ll stick around while we figure it out together.


    — Destiny


    P.S. What’s something that’s bringing you joy lately? Big or small, I’d love to hear about it.