Rise With Joice

🌿  You Have the Power to Protect Your Peace A real, healing, and heart-spoken blog by Joice – Rise With Joice It started with a phone call I didn’t answer. Not because I was angry. Not because I didn’t care. But because that version of me — the one who answered everything, said yes to everyone, and never took a breath — was finally learning to protect her peace. Peace doesn’t always look like a beach or a sunset. Sometimes peace is silence. Sometimes peace is deleting a text draft before sending it. Sometimes it’s sitting alone, sipping chai, watching raindrops race each other down a windowpane, and not feeling the need to explain anything to anyone. For years, I was a chronic fixer. If someone was upset, I felt responsible. If a situation felt off, I’d twist myself into pieces trying to make it right. I thought that being a “good person” meant always being available. What I didn’t realise then was that being a good person to everyone else often made me a stranger to myself. The m...

There was nothing fancy about the cup. No gold rim. No quote from a bestselling author. It wasn’t even microwave safe (which I learned the hard way). But it was mine. A soft blue mug with a tiny crack on the side. Gifted by someone who knew I liked “chai more than people.” 🫖 The Mug That Held More Than Tea It became my morning therapist. My “we’re not okay but pretending we are” sidekick. It sat with me through: Cold mornings Quiet tears Loud dreams And a few burnt-toast breakfasts Honestly? That cup had seen more of me than most people had. 💥 And Then… It Happened. I was having one of those days—where your to-do list judges you harder than society ever has. In between reheating chai and scrolling Instagram, it slipped. Fell to the floor. Shattered. I stared at the pieces like they had betrayed me. 🎭 I Know, It’s “Just a Mug,” But Also… It wasn’t just about ceramic. It was about everything else that had cracked quietly over the past few years: Plans I had to postpone People who left...

🖼️  Episode 3: The Frame That Changed the Picture The frame was simple. Black wood. Slightly chipped. No glass. We put it on display with nothing inside. And still…customers would pause in front of it. Some smiled. Others got quiet. One man whispered, “I haven’t seen her since 2015,” and walked out in tears. That’s when we realized—they weren’t seeing an empty frame. They were seeing someone. We tested it. Each staff member took turns placing it in their home for one night. Every single one came back changed. One saw her childhood dog curled on the couch. Another saw his grandmother, sitting with knitting needles. One even saw himself—smiling—after 10 years of depression. We never figured out how it works. But we stopped calling it “the empty frame.” It’s now labeled: “The Frame of Presence. For those who never left your heart.” ✨  Final Note : Every item in our store has a story. Some are hilarious. Some are strange. And some… are just waiting...

📖  Episode 2: The Diary That Knew My Name We tried to open it, of course. Who wouldn’t? But the key wouldn’t turn—until one of our team members, Aman, held it. Click. Inside? Blank pages. Until Aman turned the third page. That’s when a sentence appeared, written in delicate blue ink: “Aman, you still blame yourself. But you couldn’t have known.” He stepped back like he’d been burned. “How does it know my name?” He wouldn’t talk about it for hours. Then finally, he told us: His childhood friend had disappeared during a camping trip when they were 13. He was the last person to see him. For years, he carried guilt, thinking he should’ve done more. He flipped another page. More writing appeared: “It wasn’t your fault. I followed the stars. I still do. I found peace. So should you.” No signature. Just a drawing of the Orion constellation. Aman cried for the first time in years. He took the diary home. Said he’d return it when he was “ready.” In its place...