ASH Studios

And tonight,
the tired soul chose rest over rushing. 🤍

The letter will arrive soon.

𝑳𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔
𝘚𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘔𝘢𝘪𝘭 𝘚𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 1
𝘌𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘥𝘦 1 | 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨

Sometimes,
the strongest people
are also the most exhausted ones.

The ones quietly carrying
dreams, responsibilities, pain,
and everyone else—
while trying not to fall apart themselves.

So if you are tired…
please know this:

rest does not make you weak. 🤍

⸻

Tonight | Full Letter Reel ✨

𝑨𝒓𝒕 • 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒍 • 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈
𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨

“Sanctuary of the Heart”
and
“Rest in Bloom” 🤍

Two paintings born from the quiet spaces between pain and peace.

As a PHC patient living with Takayasu Arteritis & multiple autoimmune diseases, art slowly became more than expression for me—

it became breath,
prayer,
rest,
and surrender.

A gentle reminder that even in illness,
even in uncertainty,
the soul can still create beauty.

And maybe healing is this too:
becoming both a sanctuary
and a garden.

In honor of Vasculitis Awareness Month,
these pieces are for every soul learning to heal slowly, softly, and bravely. 🤍

⸻

Available for purchase.
Message ASH Studios for inquiries ✨






🤍

𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗹 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 | 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨

The story of my becoming
is a seed planted on a not-so healthy soil.

There were weeds,
small stones,
and insects.

But still…
there, I grew.

A tree with roots made from the people who took care of me with the best that they can and with what they have.

Roots from early experiences
that gave me joy,
tears,
and little wounds too.

A trunk strong,
yet somehow slowly rotting too—
holding both the will to live
and at times,
the quiet will to die.

Branches of relationships,
some broken,
some whole,
some that remained,
and some I had to let go of.

Leaves made from experiences on loop,
experiences that taught me,
held me,
loved me,
and broke me.

Flowers made from dreams bigger than myself.

And fruits…
the small pieces of becoming born through service, love, healing, and mission.

Maybe this is who I am becoming—

not a perfect tree,
but a living one.

Still growing.
Still healing.
Still reaching toward the Light.

And maybe…
this is the gift of my being. 🤍

⸻

Reflection:

What parts of your story
became part of your becoming?

⸻

𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗹 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 | 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏
𝘊𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘉𝘦 𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧

Somewhere along the way…
I became so used to being present for others
that I forgot how to stay present with myself too.

I knew how to comfort.
How to listen.
How to stay strong for people.

But not always for me.

⸻

For years,
I carried myself with pressure.

Pressure to heal quickly.
Pressure to become better.
Pressure to keep serving, loving, giving…
even when parts of me were already tired.

And quietly…
I started abandoning myself
while trying not to abandon others.

⸻

But healing changed something in me.

It taught me that gentleness
is not weakness.

Rest is not selfishness.

And choosing yourself
does not make you less loving.

Maybe…
the same kindness we freely give to others
must also be given to ourselves.

⸻

So these days,
I am choosing to be gentler with myself.

To stop rushing my healing.

To stop punishing myself
for being human.

To become softer
with the parts of me
that are still becoming.

And maybe that is also love.

⸻

Sometimes, healing begins
when we finally learn
to start mothering ourselves too.

— samantha ashley 💎🔥🌱

⸻

Reflection:

When was the last time
you became gentle with yourself?

⸻

𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑴𝒆 & 𝑮𝒐𝒅 |
𝘖𝘯 𝘉𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 “𝘔𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳” 𝘵𝘰 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘴

This Mother’s Day…
something gentle was born in me again.

Hope.
The hope of continuing.

Lately, I’ve been quietly loosening my grip from serving too much…
learning to choose rest, healing, and presence for myself too.

There was a time when I could give endlessly to the youth.
But after losing one of our young people in 2021…
something inside me broke too.

For the longest time, I carried questions I could not answer.

“Did I fail as a steward?”
“Did I lack love?”
“Did I miss the signs?”

And even when I continued serving…
there was fear in connecting too deeply again.

Slowly, God humbled me through distance, silence, and letting go.
I realized I do not need to save everyone to become an instrument of love.
I only need to remain available to Him.

And today…
these young ones greeted me,
“Happy Mother’s Day”

I laughed softly… but deep inside, I felt warmth.

Because maybe motherhood is not always about giving birth.
Sometimes…
it is choosing to stay,
to pray,
to listen,
to guide gently,
and to love people through seasons.

What moved me the most today were the words I once thought I would never deserve to hear again:

“Ate, ikaw ang nagdugtong ng buhay ko.”

I heard it from two different people.
Two different stories.
Two different timelines.

And suddenly…
God answered a wound I had been carrying for years.

Maybe I was not perfect.
Maybe I lacked in many ways.
But grace still moved through the little things I offered.

Even in my brokenness…
God still allowed me to become a bridge back to life for someone.

So today, between me and God…
I simply cried in gratitude.

Because even when I stepped back,
He showed me that love continues beyond visibility.

In prayers.
In presence.
In quiet remembering.
In becoming.

And perhaps…
this is what being a spiritual mother feels like.

Happy Mother’s Day to all women who carry souls with tenderness too. 🤍

𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗹 𝗥𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆 | 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏
𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘊𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦

4 days since I turned 27…
and 27 years since I was given this life.

When I was younger…
masakit kapag nakakalimutan ng mga tao na birthday ko.

I would quietly wait—
for certain people…
for specific greetings…
for the kind of love I expected to receive.

May mga birthdays na iniyakan ko…
because I was hoping
someone would remember me
the way I wanted to be remembered.

And sometimes… I would compare.

“Bakit sila may grand celebration?”
“Bakit sila ang daming gifts?”

⸻

But this year… something shifted.

Tinanggal ko ang birthday ko sa social media.
I stayed silent the whole day.

At first… it was a test.

But in the quiet…
it became a realization.

Na… it doesn’t really matter.

Maybe people remembered—pero naging busy.
Maybe life simply happened.
Maybe we all just carry different priorities.

And that’s okay.

⸻

Because the truth is—

God never forgot.

Not even for a second.

He woke me up that day
with a quiet kind of joy.

He gave me the gift of reconciliation.
The gift of the Eucharist.

And the gift of people
who may not always remember the date…

but never forget
my worth,
my value,
my existence—

and still choose
to appreciate my presence.

⸻

So this year…
I didn’t just blow a candle.

I let go of expectations.

And in return—
I received something deeper.

A quieter kind of love.
A truer kind of presence.

And a God
who never forgets me.

— samantha ashley 💎🔥🌱

⸻

Reflection:

Have you ever felt forgotten…
only to realize
you were still being held?

⸻