Open Your Hands: Let the Good In
Take a breath with me. Imagine a warm, golden sort of day—the kind that makes everything look softer at the edges. In front of you sits a table piled high with good things. Not just food or money or shiny objects, but the stuff your soul actually craves: time that isn’t sprinting, relief where you’ve been tight, kindness that lands, chances that feel aligned. That’s the energy I want you to step into today—not scarcity, but overflow.
And before your brain pipes up with, “Overflow? In this economy?”—yes, I hear you. But stay with me. Often abundance arrives after a long season of planting: the showing up when it was inconvenient, the inner work no one saw, the small kindnesses, the quiet “keep going” on the days when quitting would’ve been easier. If you’ve been in the trenches, this might be the part where the ground finally answers back.
But there’s a question tucked inside all of that: Are you actually ready to receive?
We’re pretty good at striving. Less good at allowing. Think about how you handle compliments:
“Your hair looks great!”
“Oh, this? It’s chaos wearing a headband.”
“Brilliant job on the project.”
“Luck and caffeine.”
We do this with bigger blessings, too. The universe cracks open a little window of good and we reflexively duck. We minimise. We deflect. We change the subject. Somewhere along the way we learned that accepting goodness looks arrogant, or that wanting more means we’re greedy, or that joy must be earned with suffering and three notarised forms. (It doesn’t.)
So today, consider this your gentle nudge: open your hands.
What receiving actually looks like
Receiving isn’t passive. It’s a posture, a decision, and a practice. It sounds like:
“Thank you.” Full stop.
“Yes, I’ll take the help.” No thirty-seven disclaimers.
“This opportunity fits. I’m saying yes—without apologising for existing.”
Receiving doesn’t make you entitled; it makes you available. It doesn’t steal from anyone else’s portion; it circulates what’s already moving through the world.
Start where you are: spot the quiet abundance
Not all blessings arrive with a marching band. Many sneak in on tiptoe:
The friend who texts exactly when your shoulders are up by your ears.
The night you sleep right through.
The bill that turns out lower than expected.
The problem that unknots because you stopped forcing it for five minutes.
The laugh you didn’t see coming.
These are not “nothing.” They’re proof the pipeline isn’t bone-dry. Name them. Let them count. Your nervous system needs evidence; give it some.
“Do I deserve this?” is the wrong question
You’re part of the same life that pushes blossoms through concrete. Worthiness isn’t on trial. You don’t earn sunlight by being exceptional at photosynthesis. You participate in it. You orient to it. You let it do what it does.
Try swapping “Do I deserve this?” for “Can I allow this?”
Different energy, different outcome.
If receiving feels awkward (and it might)
Some of us only receive after being backed into a corner—illness, burnout, a situation that finally forces our hand. Ask me how I know. If accepting good feels like standing under a spotlight, shrink the stage:
Practise with tiny things. Take the compliment. Accept the held door. Let someone send you a resource without “you shouldn’t have!”
Give yourself five minutes of something nourishing before you “earn” it. (Tea, actual lunch, three pages of your book.)
When help is offered and your mouth tries to say no, buy yourself five seconds with: “Let me check in with myself.” Then try yes.
The “guilt for wanting more” problem
Wanting more doesn’t mean you’re ungrateful; it means you’re alive. You’re allowed to hold gratitude in one hand and desire in the other without combusting. Abundance isn’t pie with limited slices. Someone else’s win doesn’t reduce your portion; it shows what’s possible in your neighbourhood.
If guilt shows up in a trench coat whispering, “How dare you?”, try answering, “How gracious of life to include me.”
Expand the definition of plenty
Money matters; let’s not pretend it doesn’t. But a full life is gloriously multidimensional:
Time abundance: a morning that isn’t frantic.
Energy abundance: work that ends with something left in the tank.
Relational abundance: conversations that feed you instead of draining you.
Creative abundance: ideas lining up like eager toddlers with glitter.
Nervous system abundance: a body that can exhale without an instruction manual.
When you measure only one column, you miss where you’re already rich.
Harvest without hustling yourself into the ground
If you’ve been planting, tending, and waiting, this might be harvest. But harvest isn’t frantic. It’s focused.
Pick the ripest first. What’s ready now? Claim that piece. Leave the unripe fruit to sweeten.
Don’t trample the garden. Protect your capacity while you gather. Say fewer yeses. Take more water breaks.
Share where it feels right. Generosity keeps abundance moving. That could be money, time, a warm introduction, or a simple “You’ve got this.”
Three tiny receiving rituals (no crystals required)
The Hand-to-Heart Yes
Once today, pause, hand to chest, and say out loud: “I allow good to find me.” Two breaths. That’s it. (Your inner sceptic may roll its eyes. Let it. Then keep going.)The Compliment Rehearsal
Practise saying “Thank you” in the mirror with your face doing nothing weird. Add a small smile. No deflecting, no “but,” no boomerang compliment. Muscle memory matters.The Already List
Each evening, write down three ways abundance showed up—tangible or intangible. Train your attention to notice the “already.” Brains love patterns; teach yours a better one.
When the old fears bark
Receiving can kick up ancient stories: “If I take this, the other shoe will drop.” “If I shine, people will leave.” “If I relax, I’ll lose my edge.” Those stories kept you safe once. Thank them for their service—and update the policy.
Try this script with your nervous system:
“Good things are safe to receive now. I can handle joy. I can handle rest. I can handle success in ways that feel kind to me.”
Dream a little bigger (without waiting for permission)
If your table is already filling, ask, “What else would light me up?” Maybe it’s support you’ve always done without. Maybe it’s an opportunity you’ve convinced yourself you’re “not ready” for (newsflash: no one ever feels ready). Maybe it’s a version of ease that doesn’t require you to be superhuman every day forever.
Write one line: “It would thrill me to receive _______.”
Then one micro-step that aligns with that desire. Send the email. Polish the page. Block the hour. Apply. Ask. Tiny action signals, “I’m serious,” without tipping you into panic.
In case you needed permission
You’re allowed to stop bracing for impact and start bracing for goodness. You’re allowed to ask for more and keep your gratitude. You’re allowed to say, “Yes, please—and thank you.” You’re allowed to be the person who receives with grace and gives with joy, without keeping a spreadsheet of emotional debt.
So, as you move through today, consider this your quiet invitation to open the door. Let the warmth in. Notice the small proofs. Practise the simple yes. And if a wave of good happens to arrive all at once—don’t duck. Stand there. Let it land. Breathe.
Your dreams matter. Your needs matter. The life that made you didn’t put you here to scrape by on crumbs. There is more than enough table to go around—and you, my friend, have a seat at it.
Hands open. Heart open. “Yes, please—and thank you.”