Revising our needs, listening for rhythm, and letting life unfold honestly.
MONTHLY REMINDERReader, you’re allowed to change your mind as you go. Changing your mind isn’t a failure of commitment or clarity. Often, it’s a sign of maturity. Of listening. Of responding to new information, shifting circumstances, or a deeper understanding of yourself. Growth, grief, and healing all ask for this kind of ongoing awareness; the ability to stay with something and to gently ask, is this still right for me now? In this instance, you're not being unanchored or impulsive, but honest, attentive, and aligned as life moves. REFLECTION PROMPTS:
MARCH'S REFLECTION PROMPTIn March, I will allow my needs to be revised. I will honour this by… Our needs are not fixed truths; they shift as we do. What supported you in one season may no longer be what sustains you now, and that doesn’t mean you were wrong before. This month invites a gentle reassessment: noticing where your energy, capacity, and desires have changed, and responding with honesty rather than obligation. Allowing your needs to be revised allows you to stay in relationship with who you are becoming. 2 QUOTES WORTH PONDERING
“I finally found my rhythm when I realized that even the steps backward were part of the dance.” REFLECTION PROMPTS:
2. Writer Zora Neale Hurston on time, grief, and emotional permission: “No hour is ever eternity, but it has its right to weep.”
Source: Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (1937)
REFLECTION PROMPTS:
INTENTION WORDSOver the past month, a few of you replied to share the intention words you’re living into this year. What struck me most wasn’t just the words themselves, but the shared tone running through them — a leaning toward steadiness, care, return, and wholeness. Here are the words shared with me:
If you're new here, welcome. The Word That Finds You: Intention, Magic, and the Power of Naming Your Year is the first essay shared from my forthcoming anthology, Daughter of the Soil. It explores intention not as a goal or resolution, but as something we listen for. A word that arrives through experience and truth, shaping how we live rather than what we try to achieve. Alongside the essay, I’ve created the Intention Words Workbook — a reflective guide to choosing and living an intention word in a grounded, embodied way. It includes an Intention Word Library of 250 carefully curated words, designed to be moved through slowly, until a word meets you. You can read the essay, and download the workbook and word library here. Move through it in your own time. There’s no right pace. Sometimes the word reveals itself slowly. Sometimes it’s already been living with us quietly. A brief note on the essays: I’m continuing to write and listen for the right rhythm of release. When they’re ready, they’ll be published here first, with this community. NOW AVAILABLE
POPULAR IN FEBRUARYPODCAST EPISODE 64: 3 lesser-known types of grief (a 3-minute listen)
INSTAGRAM (@noticingwithrebeccamonique and @rbccmnq) YOUR MONTHLY BREAST CANCER REMINDERThis is your monthly reminder to stay connected to your body. Knowing what’s normal for you and checking your breasts regularly is a simple but powerful act of care. You can learn the key signs and symptoms here . In August 2025 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 . GENTLE REFLECTIONS FOR THOSE NAVIGATING HEALTH GRIEFHealth changes can quietly alter how safe the world feels. They can interrupt trust in the body, confidence in plans, and assumptions about what comes next. This kind of grief doesn’t always arrive loudly or with ceremony. Sometimes it settles in as uncertainty, vigilance, or a sense of being “on watch.” Wherever you are in this, you are not failing for feeling changed. REFLECTION PROMPTS:
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, the most enduring love is the one you practise daily with yourself. February often frames love as something to seek, secure, or perform for others. But the love that steadies you over time is quieter and closer. It shows up in how you speak to yourself, the permissions you give yourself to rest or try again, and the small choices that protect your energy and dignity. This month invites you to practise a form of love that doesn’t require an audience. REFLECTION...
MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, you don’t have to reinvent yourself to begin again. There’s so much noise in January telling us to become someone else overnight. But real beginnings are often subtle. They build on who you already are, what you’ve already lived, and the wisdom you’re already carrying. This month invites you to begin again without erasing yourself; to let continuity be just as sacred as change. REFLECTION PROMPTS: Where am I placing pressure on myself to “reinvent” rather than gently...
MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, 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: Where am I...