Closing gently, opening slowly, and letting the year settle without demand.
MONTHLY REMINDERReader, you're allowed to arrive at the end of the year unfinished, unfolding, and enough. December has a way of tempting us into self-audit: tallying what we did or didn’t do, what bloomed or broke, what we held together or held onto. But you are not a project to be completed by year’s end. You’re a living, breathing becoming. Let this month soften the pressure to “wrap things up,” and instead invite you to meet yourself with gentleness. REFLECTION PROMPTS:
DECEMBER'S REFLECTION PROMPTIn December, I will listen for what wants to end and what wants to begin by… This month carries a quiet honesty: some things are ready to be released, and others are quietly asking to be welcomed in. December invites you to pay attention to the subtle shifts: the habits that feel heavy, the desires that feel alive, the truths that keep whispering. Let this be a time of receptive clarity, where you listen inwardly before you move outwardly. 2 QUOTES WORTH PONDERING
“Take refuge in your senses, open up to all the small miracles you rushed through.”
— from Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom(1997) REFLECTION PROMPTS:
2. Poet Nayyirah Waheed on the tenderness and unpredictability of healing: “Healing comes in waves and maybe today the wave hits the rocks. And that’s okay. That’s okay, darling. You are still healing.”
— commonly attributed to poetry collection Salt (2013) REFLECTION PROMPTS:
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YOUTUBE (@rbccmnq): How to tell the difference between intuition and fear
INSTAGRAM (@noticingwithrebeccamonique and @rbccmnq) YOUR MONTHLY BREAST CANCER REMINDERAs we move into December — a month that naturally invites stillness — I want to gently remind you of something important: take a moment to check your breasts. Early detection saves lives, and tuning into your body’s quiet signals is an act of care you deserve. Let this be your monthly nudge: pause, breathe, and listen. Your body whispers long before it shouts. You can learn the key signs and symptoms here . In early August I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I shared openly about it on Instagram – the loss, grief, trauma, inner-healing and self-care that comes with it – and from that tender space I created what I needed most: a reflective journal to walk me through the first 30 days. 30 Days Through Breast Cancer is available as a free resource for anyone affected. Please feel welcome to pass it on to those who may need it. Thankfully my diagnosis was early, and my focus is on treatment, healing and deep listening to my body. You can find more about my journey and resources on my breast cancer page . And thank you to those who have reached out with care. Your kindness has meant more than you know. COMING IN JANUARY 2026As we enter a softer season, I’m beginning to gather the threads of my reflective essays. From January, I’ll begin releasing them one by one, writing each in the order I feel intuitively drawn to. They’ll be shared first and freely with Muse-letter subscribers, as a way of honouring this community that has held my words so gently. More soon. Daughter of the Soil -Volume 1 is a collection of 12 reflective essays on grief, healing, womanhood, and race—rooted in memory, ancestral ache, and quiet becoming. Each piece is an offering, a mirror, and a soft rebellion against invisibility. SPOTIFY PLAYLISTSSoul-stirring. Empowering. Wholesome. This one’s for the moments when you remember who you are. A musical exhale—part prayer, part power, part poetic awakening. Let it carry you into the marrow of your truth, especially on days when you forget how luminous you’ve always been.
Griefy. A playlist for the ache that won’t be rushed. 'Griefy' is a tender companion for the days when your heart feels too full, too empty, or both at once. These songs don’t try to fix it—they sit with you in the softness, the silence, the sacred unraveling.
SUBSCRIBER RESOURCESRacial Trauma and Grief – Reflective Journal Who do you know would benefit from or appreciate this content? Be sure to share this muse-letter with them by forwarding on this email. USEFUL LINKSLet's stay connected. Here's where else you can find me: Website | Podcast | Blog | Instagram | Recommended Reading List* You can view the muse-letter archive here. Not yet subscribed? You can sign up to this muse-letter here. New to the mailing list? You can view the archive of the first few editions here. About this muse-letter: You're receiving this email because you've subscribed to my mailing list. You'll typically receive an email from me once a month. Rarely will I send stand-alone emails about promotions, new products or services, and partnerships. Affiliate links within my emails are marked with an asterisk (*). Update your subscription preferences: You can unsubscribe from 'Reflect with Rebecca-Monique', or manage your subscriber profile via the respective links below. |
Rebecca-Monique (rbccmnq)
MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, don’t be so hard on yourself. Even the river bends before it reaches the sea. We are often our own harshest critics, measuring ourselves against impossible standards or berating ourselves for mistakes. We forget that growth is rarely linear; that taking detours or pausing doesn’t mean failure. Just as the river bends and flows around rocks, so too can we move with gentleness, patience, and self-compassion on our journey. REFLECTION PROMPTS: In what ways am I being...
MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, you cannot use someone else's map to find yourself. Your path is your own: uncharted, winding, luminous in places only you can walk. Trust the turns, the pauses, the shortcuts and the long ways round. REFLECTION PROMPTS: Where in my life am I following someone else’s map instead of listening to my own compass? What landmarks of my journey (choices, values, turning points) remind me that this path is mine alone? How might I trust my inner navigation more fully this...
MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, the bad news is: there are an astonishing amount of things completely out of our control; the good news is: there are an astonishing amount of things completely within our control. The bad news: there are countless things beyond our grasp — other people’s choices, life’s sudden turns, the weather of fate itself. The good news: there are just as many things we do hold in our hands — our responses, our rituals, our breath, our way of telling our story. Freedom lives in...