Tea and a Truth Biscuit: The Beauty Isn’t Just Out There
This morning, I went for my sunrise run.
Barefoot.
Breathing.
Sweating.
Alive.
Not “trying to get my steps in.”
Not punishing my body for what I ate yesterday.
Not running from my life.
Running inside the life I built.
And when I finished, I sat on the beach and watched the sun rise.
No rush.
No phone.
No performing.
No proving.
Just me, the ocean, the sand, the sky, and this ridiculous, magical planet doing what it does every damn morning whether we notice or not.
And I cried.
Not because I was sad.
Because I remembered.
Sometimes the beauty of this world is so f*cking big that my little human body doesn’t know what else to do with it.
So it leaks out of my eyes.
And sitting there, watching the sky open itself up, I realized something.
That beauty wasn’t separate from me.
It wasn’t “over there.”
It wasn’t something I had to chase, earn, buy, manifest harder, heal harder, journal harder, or become more worthy of receiving.
That beauty was my beauty, too.
The sunrise.
The ocean.
The sand under my bare feet.
The breath in my lungs.
The tears on my face.
The body that carried me through another run.
The life I created after burning so much bullsh*t programming to the ground.
All of it.
Mine.
Not mine like I own it.
Mine like I belong to it.
Mine like I am made of it.
Mine like, “Oh, there I am.”
And then David walked up and joined me for Tai Chi on the beach, and damn, if that didn’t make the whole morning even more beautiful.
There we were.
Two humans who have lived enough life, lost enough people, walked through enough fire, and unpacked enough bullsh*t to know this kind of morning is not ordinary.
It is holy.
Not church holy.
Not rules holy.
Not “sit down, shut up, and be good” holy.
Real holy.
Ocean holy.
Breath holy.
Bare feet in the sand holy.
Love standing next to you while the sun comes up holy.
After Tai Chi, I did one of my absolute favorite things in the world.
A long open-water swim.
No lane lines.
No walls.
No clock.
Just my body, the water, the horizon, and the deep knowing that I am not here to survive my life anymore.
I am here to live the f*ck out of it.
David walked back toward the beach entrance, and we met up afterward like we have done this a thousand lifetimes before.
Then we walked home to our villa and had incredible Vietnamese coffee.
That’s it.
That’s the story.
No big purchase.
No grand achievement.
No certificate.
No gold star.
No applause.
No clink, clink, clink of karma coins dropping into some invisible jar because I tipped well, gave money away, or tried to prove I am a “good” person.
I am not giving from obligation.
I am not giving from guilt.
I am not giving because I am spiritually bargaining with the universe.
I give because I can.
I give because I do.
I give because I am.
That is abundance.
Not the fake Instagram kind.
Not the “look at my luxury life while I sell you a course on how to get yours” kind.
The real kind.
The quiet kind.
The barefoot, coffee-sipping, ocean-swimming, sunrise-crying kind.
This life is luxurious.
Not because it is expensive.
Because I am present for it.
Because I can feel it. All of it.
Because I stopped waiting for someone else to give me permission to live.
Because I can sit on a beach after a sunrise run and understand that the beauty I am witnessing is the same beauty that lives inside me.
Wisdom Nugget:
When gratitude stops being a transaction, it becomes a way of being.
And here is the Truth Biscuit:
Most of us were taught to chase beauty.
Earn beauty.
Buy beauty.
Fix ourselves into beauty.
Shrink ourselves into beauty.
Perform ourselves into beauty.
Post ourselves into beauty.
Filter ourselves into beauty.
Bullsh*t.
You do not have to become beautiful.
You have to remember that you are already part of the beauty.
The sunrise is not more sacred than you.
The ocean is not more divine than you.
The sky is not more magical than you.
You are made of the same cosmic wonder.
The same wild intelligence.
The same holy spark.
The same multiverse mystery that paints the morning sky and pulls the tide back into the sea.
So maybe today, stop looking at beauty like it belongs somewhere else.
Stop acting like the miracle is outside of you.
Stop waiting until you are thinner, richer, healed, partnered, approved of, understood, or finally “ready.”
Let the beauty find you now.
Let it crack you open now.
Let it bring you to tears now.
Let it remind you:
You are not separate from the miracle.
You are the miracle, too.
I love all you people.
Love and ((HUGS)),
Laura Foster, Founder of Souls Healing Humanity