Lessons in a new moon

The New Moon taken with my iPhone in Easley, SC

The new moon symbolizes new beginnings, introspection, and setting intentions. It’s a chance every month or so for a fresh start in our hearts.

I want to believe in the new moon. I want to have faith that fresh starts are real and not something we just pine for when things get tough.

But if I am being honest I wonder if a new moon is really all that “new.” Maybe its a re-newing of sorts. NEW to me means pristine… untouched. But life as we are living it really travels in cycles, building upon itself at each juncture. There is nothing untouched about this life of mine.

Sometimes I wish on the new moon that I could throw it all away for a fresh start. I want to bury all my woes, hide from all my mistakes, have the magic wand of forgiveness waved over my head so all can be forgiven and forgotten, knowing I am humbled by all of it - bad decisions and troubles alike.

The world doesn’t work like that though. We have to carry those things along with us as part of a learned past…as part of a better intentioned future. It’s all a necessary part of who we are and who we get to become along the way.

These days I think of milestones like the new moon, the new year, birthdays, anniversaries, springtime, and even the daily sunrise all as opportunities for pause. They are moments for us to reflect into who we are and where we have been on our journey of life - be it the daily pause or more.

Certainly the sun and the moon don’t wish to be floating around out there as only a part of itself. They want to show up each day as they are…not justthe parts they are casting light on.

Maybe that’s my wish for each new moon…to carry with me who I am while giving myself the grace to carry on bravely despite all the parts i wish I had addressed a little better. Perhaps it’s about a renewal and not just being new.

A little bit of winter.

Winter time comes briefly in South Carolina and it’s one of my favorite seasons. Any chance I get to see the snow, I jump at like a little girl ready for her first seasonal sledding session.

I spent my youth in the snow belt of the north east - a part known for it’s lake effect snows. It wasn’t uncommon for us to get FEET of snow at a time. We were often buried in white through January and into March. For some reason, it always felt really magical to me. The hush of the world under a gentle snow is something you can’t explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it before. There is a hush…a stillness.

While spring symbolizes fresh starts, there is something about a blanket of fresh snow that makes me feel like big things are coming. Maybe it’s the blank canvas it seems to look like as the world is blanketed with a crisp restart. To me, this is what feels like the beginnings of a fresh start, but with the promise of a little rest, comfort and calm before the party happens.

While we walked through the woods the other day in the snowfall, stepping over brambles of future juicy and tart blackberries, sweet and succulent blueberry bushes slumbering under the snow, and seedlings of little trees full of hope, I was comforted as much as what was coming as I was by what was here…what was right now.

If winter teaches me anything each year, it’s that every phase of life - every chapter we are in - is a lovely and precious experience. The chilly slumber of winter that leads to the blossoming of spring. The crisp spring mornings that lead to the prickly heat of summertimes that smell like sunscreen and salt water. They are all significant. We need each thing to get to the next.

The importance of being present and where I am at the moment means more to me now than ever before. It’s precious time. Sacred moments. Even those bad parts - whatever they may be to you - have their place…

So this winter, you can find me chasing this chill before I start exploring for those summer waterfalls and seashells. Because each season and chapter needs it’s own celebration.

Help.

A lot of memories all in one place.

Yesterday afternoon, in true New Year’s fashion, we disassembled the Christmas tree. Ornament by ornament. Memory by memory. We dismantled the fragrant and not-so-dead-after-all tree.

While this is nothing remarkable (I mean, let’s face it, we ALL take the tree down at some point), it was remarkable to me. This was the first year in all the years I can remember that I had help dismantling the Christmas tree.

Maybe you are shrugging your shoulders right now thinking to yourself, “So what…”

The thing is, I am not very good at asking for help. I am even less good at receiving it.

For me, the help I always needed has never really been there…partially by design and partially because when I asked for help, it never came to me - at least not how I was expecting it. So I figured out life on my own. I became a “do-it-yourself” kinda gal. I never wanted to risk the disappointment of being told no, so I decided there wasn’t much I couldn’t do by myself.

The thing is, I tried to do this alone. For some reason, my guys weren’t having it. They pitched in and we had decorations out of here and life back to a semi-normal state within the hour. Record time. This could have taken me up to 3 days to get it taken down, packed up, and cleaned away if I was alone.

The help I desire to ask for runs deeper than help with the Christmas decorations. It’s in every facet of my life. Sure, I have stepped away from things from time to time and let someone take the wheel… But it’s never been easy for me.

Help came last month when I needed it…in a big way. Christmas was coming and we had an unexpected passing in our family. When my people came to me and said “we are here, tell us what we can do for you…” I felt a sudden relief from the pressure. We all pitched in and had maybe one of the best Christmases I can remember in recent years.

So maybe the key to happiness - or even the key to life - is acceptance. Acceptance of help, of love, and of truth. Acceptance of whatever is in front of you. I have spent so much time pushing it all away that it’s time to embrace that which was meant for me.

And that includes all the help I can get.

Beginning again.

I am stepping gently into 2025 right now.

I am not grabbing it by the horns or seizing the day. I am walking cautiously ahead. Quietly. Easefully.

Like you, I’ve done the resolutions before. I’ve done the “word of the year.” I have done the vision boards and journaling and enough goal setting to make a corporate CEO promote me to become their right hand man. I have done it all. And you know what I have learned: life has it’s own plan.

That’s not to say I am giving up, or without goals or a vision for the rest of my life. I have vision and purpose. I have things I am trying to accomplish in the rest of my days here on this planet. But I know things all work out in due time…which is not necessarily MY time.

If last year taught me anything, it was to expect a lot of changes in plans. This has happened to me a lot in my adult life. And as I write these words, I am trying to teach my adult son that those curve balls life launches at you are there to make you a stronger human capable of big things. The better you handle those minor setbacks, the better your outlook on life becomes.

December was particularly hard this year. We had a lot of pivoting to do including the loss of my future Mother-in-law. It came on fast and furious and seemed to swallow us whole during the holidays. For the first time in 40 years, I wasn’t “home” for the holidays. And you know what? I think it was my favorite holiday yet!

One thing that got me through the holidays this year was a text from a friend that reached out. In the middle of funeral planning and life happening, I was getting stressed about not having done anything. We had no tree up, no presents were bought, no cookies were baked. And I was just not feeling it.

“I’ve done nothing for Christmas yet…” I bemoaned in a text message.

Her response stuck with me and became my guiding light through the end of a difficult time. “You really don’t have to “do” anything.” She said. “It’s about being with the people you love and celebrating the promise of new/continuing life in winter’s darkness. I bet you are perfectly prepared for that. You can buy shit anytime.”

And with that, I pivoted.

Everything became easier. All my decisions became more clear. The pressure fell away. We had each other and we would all be together and that’s really all that mattered at the time. My focus changed from what I wouldn’t get done to what I could get done. And with that, Christmas was reborn for me.

So that’s how I am going into the new year. I don’t have to set intentions or goals. I don’t have to color in a vision board or scratch words into a journal. It’s about having a purpose to get up every day…for you, that may be the gym. For me right now, it’s spending time with myself and family, giving everything and everyone the grace and space they need to move ahead.

Each day has a promise… and that promise is to begin again. That’s all we can do while we have the time to do it here on earth.

Begin again.

Letting go of worry

I strive for this level of peace in my heart, comfort with my body, and overall lack of worry.

“If there is a way to overcome a situation, then instead of feeling too much sadness, fear or anger, make an effort to change the situation. If there is nothing you can do to overcome the situation, then there is no need for fear or sadness or anger. Face the facts and the reality. Fear is part of human nature. It is a natural response that comes in the face of danger. But, in fact, when real danger comes you can be more fearless and more realistic. On the other hand, when you let your fear run wild, you can exacerbate the situation further and bring more fear…live your life with purpose.”

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I read this quote from the Dalai Lama in a book I am reading right now - JOY - recommended to me by my brother-in-law about a year ago. The book is a record of conversations between the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu - two of the greatest leaders in our world.

The book is interesting, but this one quote has completely stood out to me. It stopped me in my tracks…not because of it’s complexity, but rather it’s simplicity.

I have spent a tremendous amount of time in my life worrying about things that never come to fruition. I worry about everything and nothing. I worry about things that won’t matter in the long run…about feelings I have hurt or those that have hurt me. The amount of time I spend fretting over things is astounding and could probably give me a second career if it paid well.

I have been working with a coach lately. The past 6 months have been extremely hard for me. I struggled with depression and anxiety worse than I can remember in my 50+ years on this planet, most of it for no good reason. I am learning what triggers me, what I need to do, and how to fulfill my own needs as a human. It’s not as easy as it sounds.

Or is it?

Maybe the key to happiness and ending suffering - as the Dalai Lama said - is in the letting go. Maybe the key is in the reflection of what really matters. I am not sure where it all got off track. Was it when my parents died? When I became estranged from my sister? Was it when I ran out of money and work during the pandemic? Or is it leftover from the pandemic? Maybe it’s all of it….

What I do know is the letting go feels so complicated. Perhaps this is because I am making it hard. Perhaps I don’t know what I’d do without the death grip of anxiety. Would I know what to do next? How to breathe? How to exist?

I do know that I will try daily to make this a practice. Stop running away from the things I can fix and manage them better. It’s really the least I can do for me.

Give yourself grace in this complicated world. life is too short to carry the burdens for others. Let them go - here, now, forever. And take care of yourself.

Life from the passenger's seat.

Shot from the passenger’s seat.

You miss a lot when you run life in the driver’s seat. There are so many details and intricacies you have to pay attention to when you are the driver. Your speed. Other drivers around you. Sudden animals or humans crossing the street. Weather. Directions. There is a lot to keep up with.

It’s true in life, too. When you are in the drivers seat, you have to pay attention to everything. You can’t miss a detail or you risk disaster. Details for the day, schedules, food likes of family members…you mind becomes a perpetual spreadsheet of information that needs to be cross referenced all the time.

This weekend, we went to dinner and for a rare moment, I was the passenger. I tend to be the driver because I get VERY car sick, so I drive a lot of the time. But on this day, for some reason, I let go and let someone else do the driving.

And you know what? It was glorious.

I wouldn’t have really been able to see this photo safely if I had been driving. I wouldn’t have noticed the few boat trails left on the water that evening by those last few boaters coming in from a long day on the water. I would have missed a bumper sticker that became an immediate inside joke between us.

You miss a lot when you are driving the ship because there is so much else to observe. But sometimes it’s nice to just let go and be the passenger. Watch the world go by from the passenger side window. Let someone else handle the responsibilities. You don’t always have to fix everything. You don’t always have to solve everything.

You can just let yourself be…lean in to being the passenger…lean in to the uncertainty of it all.

Back to the Basics

I am tired. Weary.

I am tired of feeling like I am not enough…and yet, somehow, too much.

I am sick of being sold shit at EVERY DAMN MOMENT of my life. Since when did we need so much CRAP!

I am tired of toxic positivity. Not every day needs to be slayed. Really. Some days you need to just rest.

I am over caring about anything but comfort. That goes for clothes. Routines. Food. Work. And the rare show I decide to watch (I’m looking at you Fraiser).

I am tired of politics. The pitting against each other. The bickering. The back and forth. The aggressive behavior on both side. It’s humiliating to watch. Like being inside of a massively dysfunctional family dynamic that none of us can escape from.

I am sick of feeling responsibility for everything because I am a sponge for others emotions. For the love of god, someone out there please tell me how to be Teflon.

I am tired of all of the minutia that occupies my brain when I could be doing something useful with it…coming up with better ideas for living a smaller life and making a difference for those I know and love. The only change I can influence is my immediate circle. I have found that it’s rare to make a statement that can change the world. But you can do things to change your world.

I am tired of living large. Dreaming big. I want simple. I want to feel full of heart when I look at the ocean, or a little hermit crab, or a bird perched on my fence post, or a flock of Canadian geese flying in formation. I want to see the wonder in how bees work together and feel fresh air on my face and be so excited that my legs covered in cellulite and scars can still hold me upright after 50+ years. What a MIRACLE it would be to LOVE ourselves as we are.

I am just done.

So for now, you may find me doing the simple things. I will keep posting about the things that feel pure and fill my heart. I will find magic in the minutia. You can find me there…in the garden watching the bees, or at the beach looking for that perfect shell, laying on my back watching clouds change shape as they float by. Looking at flowers as they open wide and fireflies as they LITERALLY produce a magical glowing light from their bodies. I’ll be chasing waterfalls and searching for stars in the sky and rainbows after a storm.

I am going back to the beginning when things were simpler and curiosity was what ruled the day.

I am going back - back to the basics.

A world in a bloom

Nature is captivating.

I’ve always been fascinated by nature. It’s rhythms. It’s relentless forging ahead - regardless of who’s on board or not. She pulls us all forward along this path called life. No reason. No rationale. Mother nature does her job on a micro and macro level.

I thought about this a lot the other day. This bloom was mesmerizing up close. Stamens. Pistils. And those luscious, red, velvety petals. It was fascinating. An entire world in something smaller than my hand. And that’s only the parts I could see. If I zoomed in, I wonder what other discoveries I would make…what miraculous small worlds I would uncover.

On the flip side, what if I zoomed out. Way out….

That little flower is part of a bigger picture. Part of a bigger fabric of life. Food for insects and energy for hummingbirds. Shelter for critters. And even beauty for the rest of us to gaze upon and treasure.

If you zoom out even further, the humble flower becomes almost insignificant. You no longer see it. You see a forest and tree tops. Zoom out even further it becomes part of a broader landscape - unseen from the air. Keep going and eventually all you see is a blue and white marble floating through space.

The older I get, the more I zoom out…so to speak. I see those details as a part of a bigger whole. I don’t need explanations or reasons. I just need to know that the earth keeps spinning and we keep plodding along day after day.

But sometimes I need to zoom in. I need to see the miracles of the smallest details that make me important and relative. I need to feel that my small contribution to this planet is worth something - no matter how small. I need to be curious about what’s close to me and not take for granted that this world - my world and all it’s pieces and parts - will continue on tomorrow or the next day whether anyone else notices or not.

The duality of this dynamic is not lost on me. How we can be seemingly insignificant, yet part of a bigger fabric of life or nature or this universe is a balance I think we all need to think about.

If you ask me, everything is important. We need all of us…all of the things that make this world go around. The individual is as important as the whole. The microcosms are as significant as the macroview. It’s a balance. A yin and yang. A pendulum that has to exist so that this little world keeps spinning.

And all those flowers have a chance to bloom.

Lying in the grass

Oh the backyard clover…

I lay there in the grass, plush comforter underneath my body, soft, fluffy clouds drifting by over my head. The air was as soft as cotton sheets wrapped around me and smelled like the spring of my childhood - sweet and perfumed with freshly cut grass, late season iris blooms and honeysuckle.

I noticed things in the grass I don’t take the time to look at anymore. I noticed tiny ants marching along in line with one another - not so aimlessly, but almost on a mission. I noticed caterpillars munching on garden leaves and busy bees buzzing around clover blooms. Taking their time to drink it all in.

I moved with the sun…out of it when it was too much. Into it when I needed it’s warmth.

I thought about all these things I used to do. When I was younger, more free, unencumbered by life. I used to linger over the little things. When did I get so busy? Why is there so much information in my face all the time? Where did all these useless emails to answer come from? When did I become a grown up? And why-oh-why can’t I make decisions as solidly as I did as a little girl?

When did I get so lost?

Maybe the choices were easier back then. Grape or orange soda? Hot dog or tuna fish sandwich? Play a game inside or tag outside? Maybe I am lost in the complexity of life. Choices feel bigger now…a sort of life-or-death situation.

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I lay there all day that day, unable to get up and unwilling to move. Paralyzed by life and what had come of it. I lingered all afternoon - swept up in the most basic pleasures of the world. Sitting in the sunshine looking for 4 leaf clovers. Drinking ice cold tea from a glass with a straw. At ease.

I thought of my younger self a lot that day. How hurt she was. How lost she had been and become. I thought of her and how she never thought she had any help. Maybe she didn’t want help…or didn’t know how to ask for it. Maybe she only wanted certain kinds of help. The kind of help that was on her terms…not the kind of help that the youngest person in the family gets which is always unsolicited and condescending.

That little girl in me laid there all afternoon…thinking about things…crying sometimes…curiously searching for 4 leaf clovers…did they even exist? Why are they so hard to find? Why are the good things so elusive?

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How do we get so far off course? When do we lose our curiosity…our sense of play and wonder? Is it when we are trying to fit into the scheme of life in our teens, desperately not trying to call attention to ourselves. Or maybe it happens when we watch others. We begin the complexity of wanting.

We are paralyzed in our want these days. The trap of wanting is a real thing. At my age, I don’t care as much as I used to. I am comfortable enough in my surroundings and I am at the end of the search for accepting myself. So life seems okay.

So, the question is this: why am I pushing so hard and what exactly am I pushing? Should I just walk away? Will it all come crashing down?

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It’s good to watch the rhythm of life every now and again…lie in the grass and just watch the ants marching to their nests and the bees buzzing around collecting nectar. For me, the best thing I can do now is to watch the seasons begin as I observe gently as the other ends. It gives me balance in my brain…a recognition that things always change and life always has a way of continuing on just as it needs to. Even when those ants are lugging around things bigger than them, they seem to know when to put it down, when to signal for help, or just when to stop. Even when the bee is fed up of searching for it’s nectar, it knows just how and where to rest and take a moment.

Maybe the answers are in slowing down. Laying in the grass. Letting that little girl inside me get what she deserves - peace, simple pleasures, rest, and stillness - so she can quit trying to be the adult here and run a show that is too big for her.

Time for a break. Time to rest.

March 16, 2024

ENGAGED!

A long time ago, I felt like I got lost along the way. And with the heaviness of life and the burdens of the world, I stayed there…for a long time. I trudged along hoping to find a way back - back to the light with my pack of misfits. Each day, we got deeper into a path that nobody knew how to navigate. Wild, overgrown, and disorienting, I searched for a way out if it all. But through the mud as I marched on, things got heavier, darker…more confusing. And my guiding lights lost their glow, growing dimmer and dimmer over my shoulder until one day I couldn’t see anything clearly.

Suddenly it was dark…and I was lost.

And then, there was a little light around me. Always there… in the background like an ember that never quite wanted to give up, there you were…glowing and warm and ready to help. You appeared like a flash in a dream I once had. You came stumbling into this little rag tag group of renegades and you simply said “Y’all just follow me.”

Nothing scared you off. Nothing ever does. You always run towards the fire, not away from it. You didn’t fear any of it. Not the brokenness or the tattered parts. Not the fear in my eyes nor the desperation in my heart. You stood, unflapped, calm, and sure of it all…sure of us. From the very beginning, it just felt safe and warm and easy - like my old teapot bathrobe or that ragged old blanket you cover yourself with each morning while you sip on steamy coffe from one of your mugs. And you let all my stuff become a part of you - for better or worse. All my broken pieces. You never walked away…even when you were scared of it all, you held my hand and I looked into your eyes for that steadiness I needed.

And here we are…finding our way in this world, bringing all the characters along for this wild ride…mainly because they all make it better. Messier. Louder. More interesting. And more adventurous. What a ride. And this is just the beginning.

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I am lucky for your light…the path we are forging isn’t easy. But what I realize now is that maybe I wasn’t really ever lost. Maybe all this time what I thought was no direction was just me looking for a new route – a new path to a new way of life…moving together to our very own brave, new world. One that adds and doesn’t subtract. One that celebrates and tolerates. One that forgives and moves on. One that supports, builds.

One that loves. Big love. Shameless love. Huge love.

Johnny. I am so lucky. I am so happy to have you in my life.

Let’s go plan that forever party now. It’s gonna be so fun!

Good enough.

The Daffodils are here.

Things are new. Fresh again. The spring is bringing me messages more clear than a sunny winter sky these days…sunshiney as the daffodils peeking out at me with their bright happy faces.

I am now focused on what matters most. You see, I have spent the better part of my life focused on the wrong stuff. Things like what I look like. Or how much I weigh. Or how many calories I have consumed on any given day.

Our society counts on us not feeling like we are enough as we are. Because if we were enough, what would happen? If you weighed enough and your teeth were white enough and your pants were a perfect size…what would happen?

Or rather, what COULD happen?

For starters, I think we’d be content with what is in front of us and focus in on the things that matter to us most. Things like sunrises and sunsets, flowers and new foliage blooming in our own back yards, or food and fellowship with those we love most. The little things. The beautiful things.

We would be less focused on our aging faces or those big bellies we acquired somewhere along the way. We would be content to be as we are…as things are…as life is.

I am all for improving ourselves. But I think I got lost somewhere on this path thinking the improvements had to be external. Or visible to anyone. The changes have to come more with the reality of life…the reality of how small we really are. The reality that right here, right now is good enough.

The flowers don’t feel like they aren’t doing enough. They know they are okay. They live for each moment. They go dormant when they need rest and thrive when the conditions are good enough.

Not perfect. But good enough.

And so here we all are. Standing on the precipice of change, evolution, and everything that happens and has been happening. And it’s all been good enough.

So this spring. I beg of you - of me - to let this all just be good enough…as it is.

Watching with Curiosity.

It's not his birthday. It's not a holiday or a milestone in life. This isn't a special time to celebrate him. But I need to and I want to... every.single.day.

I've never been a parent that is sick of my kid. I have never lamented how hard things are as we raise children. It ain't easy - this I know. But truth be told, I have always wanted to be his parent. From the moment I played with my first doll as a tot. I was destined to be a mom.

Not just A MOM...but HIS MOM.

I don't regret a moment of parenting him...or the family I have chosen.

He told me recently he felt like he is the black sheep of the family. I turned to him, chuckled, and said "well welcome to the flock...there are plenty of us here. You fit right in." IYKYK

Parenting is hard. All the college deans' lists going around and awards that kids receive. remind me that this human doesn't get the recognition he deserves.

He is a kind human. He is a fantastically curious human. A thoughtful and emotional human. An incredibly smart human. He's doing his best, but he is not afraid to grow. He knows this thing called life is an imperfect science and that life is about finding out more, trying harder, and growing bigger with each experience.

So while he searches for answers, I will be here for him. I will celebrate him at every turn and twist of life. All I can do is wait patiently, watch with curiosity, and love unconditionally. That's all we can ever do. That's all we ever need from each other. Honesty. Love. Patience. Kindness.

Happy Place

This is my happy place.

I come here when I need to feel peace. I love it most in the winter when there are few people taking up space and I can feel the expansiveness of the universe - of myself - in the open. Summertime it takes on a different vibe with music humming, moms calling out for their kids, busy shell seekers and lots of sun worshippers out there for revelry and merry-making.

But the beach in winter is a different thing…a spiritual place full of wide open spaces to breathe, think, be.

Winter is a perfect time to dig into these parts of me. The world is hibernating, collecting energy for what’s to come. Spring is always around the corner here, ready to leap out and celebrate with us. Ready to show us what’s possible when we rest and reflect. So it’s no wonder I am drawn time and time again back to the beach in winter. Deep breathing and reflection is what I need - especially right now.

The ocean always tells me what I need to hear. It reminds me that everything happens in cycles, the push and pull will remain there - regardless of how much I fight it. And each time that tide recedes, treasures reveal themselves. Regardless if you can see them or not, despite their size or value…they are still treasures just below the surface waiting and wanting to be revealed.

The beach reminds me that the sands will shift and change - water, wind, and weather make this happen daily. The shoreline will become unrecognizable at times. But things always take their shape. It is always going to be there….as a guide. And when you stand still for too long on that waters edge, you need to change that footing or the sea will do it for you.

The sea opens my heart in ways I wasn’t aware of most of my life. It feels like it’s a direct portal to the universe - full of lessons and love and things that light up my soul in ways I can only imagine some feel attending church on a Sunday with their tribe of like-minded souls. It’s where I am closest to myself and the universe…everything mystical seems possible at the beach on a winter afternoon. Peace. Love. Presence.

So if you need me in the near future, you can find me here. Just taking a few deep breaths and finding my scale in the grand scheme of life here…just like the rest of the grains of sand under my bare feet.

Calming those stormy seas.

I set out to write a lot this month. A blog post, journal entry or social media post each day was the goal. Writing is very cathartic for me in so many ways. It helps me process and organize the wild thoughts churning around in my stormy mind.

Come to find out, the universe had some other plans for me.

Stomach bugs, hospital visits, and other life emergencies really just grabbed me by the throat this year. A mega force tightened around my jugular shoving my back against the wall so I was unable to move. I felt controlled by a bully so much larger than me all I could do was surrender.

So I leaned into it. I waved the white flag. Healing myself and being there for what and who I could was the only option. Perhaps this wasn’t bullying at all. Perhaps this was the universe demanding I take some downtime to focus on myself and those that I love. And pleading with me to just give my brain a little space and time to figure a few things out.

I have been running on high anxiety for a while now. You’d never know it if you met me or had a regular conversation with me. I fake it all pretty well. But the slightest thing goes out of balance and my insides begin to collapse like a wild avalanche. Its a daily practice for me to manage this level of worry. I have a pretty good recipe of good nutrition, rest, breathing, meditation, walking…the list goes on. But the feelings are always there - just below the surface - waiting to bury me alive.

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It’s been a week of this virus that refuses to release it’s grip on me. But I can finally see the light. Fever free and calming down. The tight, jugular-squeezing grip loosening ever more each day.

Over the past few weeks, I have had some time to think and clear my head. I have learned that all of the worrying and angsting I am doing (and have done my entire life) is pretty much for nothing. Nothing gets solved. Nothing changes or gets better. It just makes the present so much harder.

I set a goal for the year - or if I am being fully transparent, a goal for the rest of my LIFE. I am going to quell the storm inside me. I want to deprogram that flight response…even just a little bit. I want to let my inner child know she’s safe and doesn’t have to drive this ship anymore. It’s not her responsibility anymore. It’s mine. And I’ve got this shit.

I have never felt worse at the start of a new year. I have also never felt better. There are other things at play here…things I’ll get into at a later date. But right now, despite this rough and stormy start, I somehow feel that things are gonna be okay in the end…kinda like when you see catch that sunset right after a storm blows through.

So if you need me, you can find me where that sun sets after that storm. That’s where I will be resting.

Thirty days.

Turning over that new leaf…

For the past few years, I have abandoned my desire to create some sort of “resolution.” I often feel too pressured by them and the fear of failing 2 weeks in always looms over me. Because if I am being honest, I have never fully followed through with any of it. It’s just human nature to slip back into habits that are familiar, comforting and easy.

What I did instead is create a 30 day habit to get into. Nothing too complicated, but something that could ass to my life rather than remind me of what I am not doing. I have added watercolor painting (which I fell in love with and know I need more of in my life) and a daily walking habit (despite having some pretty severe plantar fasciitis at the time).

While I don’t do either thing continuously through the year, I do love the habit and ritual behind them. They ground me into a routine and perhaps something a little on the healthy side - which I really love. And the practice of making you do 30 continuous days of something is a good way to start any new habit.

While I have no ideas of grandeur that any of these practices will become an actual thing I do every day, I like the reminder that it is something I can practice more of.

It took me a few days to choose something this year…but I have decided that writing is going to be my daily practice. Perhaps here. Perhaps in a journal. Perhaps on social media. But I will do something each day.

Writing helps me process what’s in my brain better than any other thing I do. It allows me to make sense of thoughts that loom over me like dark shadows in the night and helps me work out schedules and routines as I stumble through what’s next in my busy mind. It helps slow me down and dive into clear thinking. And friends - that is something I could use a lot more of these days as I navigate a new chapter this year.

I hope you find something to inspire yourself this year. It could be today or in 3 months. New Years doesn’t have to be the marker. It could be on your birthday or any random wednesday (like me!). This just feels like it fits for me - right here…right now.

In the meantime, you can catch me on one of those walks, or picking up those paintbrushes. It’s been a long time coming and I can’t wait to ground down into something comforting.

Buckle up

If I am being honest, the end-of-the-year scares the crap out of me. Perhaps it’s the “letting go” part that I am not good at. Or maybe it’s the goal-setting, intention-making, resolution-creating that scares the crap outta me. But it all feels so much like I am not living up to an expectation that floats around out there like a half-filled helium balloon - a little too far out of my reach.

This has been a heavy ending to a year that made promises it couldn’t keep - just like so many years before it (I’m looking at you 2020 - 2023). We have sick family, thwarted plans, and lost friends. And it just feels like a lot these days.

As I hung up the phone with my now fiancé a few moments ago (more to come on this news breaker!), he said “It’ll be our turn soon…”

I responded immediately with “maybe when it’s just our turn, that means we don’t have anyone left in our lives to worry about. No parents. No children. No close friends. I’ll take over that any day.”

I have seen my share of down days. But this isn’t that. It’s a gentle reminder that love digs deep and letting go isn’t always something we aim for. Maybe I have spent all my years trying to let go of something that was so much a part of my being, I didn’t see it. Like aborting a part of my soul that I never recognized.

Maybe my weight is just a part of me I’ve tried to deny for too long. Diets would never work and resolutions to lose weight were being thwarted because I just never saw it for what it was…a part of me. Even when I tried to make gentle resolutions or set intentions - like BE MORE MINDFUL - it always seemed like I was telling myself I didn’t measure up as I was.

Maybe instead of aggressive resolutions and strong finishes, we focus on being gentle with ourselves, focus on what’s important, love where we are and what we have right now, and take precious care of us. Let’s reflect on what we did do in 2023 and what lessons we learned and float gently into the new year - like a feather and not a bomb.

I am not here for the STRONG FINISHES or hard and set goals for 2023. I have spent the better part of my life trying to accomplish things that never get done. And frankly, I am exhausted from trying to keep up. I am here for soft, gentle, and loving. Because I am just now realizing I respond to gentle encouragement much better than commands anyhow.

So this year, my intention, my hope, my mission is this: let’s see where this ride takes us, shall we?

Just don’t forget to buckle up!

The Wild Corners of my little Life

For the past month, I have been sequestered to my bed by the pull of a new strain of COVID. It was - in a word - BRUTAL. And it went of for weeks. Weeks of me rolling around uncomfortably in the bed, waiting for things to change. I am always waiting for things to change.

While I waited for this long and frustrating virus to move along, I wasted hours in bed scrolling the internet looking for an escape from what I felt was an actual prison of my life. I stumbled across people living these fascinatingly extreme lives - women living in camper vans alone on the road or in off-the-grid cabins at the far reaching corners of the globe. Everything looked glamorous from my sick bed as I dreamed myself 1000 times around the world each day.

I have been looking to escape this life of mine for a while. I have been waiting for change to come. I have spent countless hours turning over and over in my head how I can get away. From what, I am unsure. But cross country skiing in the arctic circle certainly looked fun from my bed…the freedom, the wildness, the untamed life. As I laid in my sick bed, I felt like I was dying daily…aging at warp speed. I craved adventure, and most significantly, I craved freedom.

Thankfully, things turned a corner a week or so ago and I began to feel much better… life became more normal. I wasn’t as distracted with escape. Freedom came in the form of health and wellness, so taking care of myself felt like a release and has become an ever increasing priority for me. Routine and regimen seemed freeing.

What has stuck with me as I healed, though, is how much I wanted to live a greater existence than I have been. I want to live larger…feel bigger…than what I have been allowing myself to experience. I want to challenge myself to doing things I feel I can’t do. I want to see things I have never seen. I want to be push through boundaries I have created for myself. In a word, I want to improve me.

I have been putting my life on hold for a long time now. Over 25 years of taking other people’s needs and desires into consideration…maybe even longer than that. So it’s time to find the joy. It’s time to force the change I want. The world doesn’t hand that to you. You have to go get it. You have to demand it.

Perhaps I can find it here, right where I am. Maybe I don’t need to live in the remote reaches of Norway or a cabin in the woods in Canada. Maybe the joy and freedom I seek is right here, in the decisions I make and the choices I pursue.

Maybe it’s just time to change my perspective a little while appreciating the wildness that is right in front of me - like beach sunsets with my best people.

Fill me up

The clarity I get from being by water is unmatched. Moving water. Stormy water. Calm water. It all comforts me.

I have needed to be close to the water lately. But somehow I am denying myself this simple pleasure. The simple joy of doing something that fills my soul up is exactly what I am depriving it of. But why? Why do we hide from pleasure and hide from joy? Why do I dodge something that fills my soul?

Of course, for me parts of this are rooted in the fear of over indulgence…or at least appearing to be over indulging (pretty hard to avoid as a chubby middle aged lady). Hustle culture has gotten so real and if I can be real for a minute - I hate it. What if I want to feel good for a minute? A month? A millenium? But what message will that send to the universe? And (horrors), what will everyone think of me if I do something (or too much) for myself?

Isn’t it time we put down the need to prove ourselves to anyone but our self? Shouldn’t SELF come first? I am all about the hard work…but it’s been at the cost of my own sanity. I am fearful I have forgotten the importance of where I begin. I have become a prisoner to proving myself to others.

In this next year of my life, I am choosing to find joy. Fill my own cup. Wait for no person and put nothing before me. Recovering from a bad illness this month (I’m looking at you COVID) and battling a life long one is only making it more obvious every day and every moment that I need to choose me first.

So if you need me, look for me here - by the water. Or in the sunshine. Or even under a lovely canopy of trees. And if I am smiling alone, know that I have once again found space for me.

The Good Parts

Photos tell a sweet little story… a memory plucked out of a moment in the line of forgotten memories. Some of those moments tend to slip away and that’s okay. Not all memories are made to savor. But I really like that part. I like to remember the whole story. I think it’s a big reason of why I do what I do.

There is a back story to every photo I take. The hard work in the back yard - literal blood, sweat, and tears - that allow you to enjoy a summer morning on the porch. Or the haul to the beach with so much gear you’d swear your arms will fall off as you sweat out any remnant of remaining water in your body (Hello, Charleston summers). Or even a solitary moment by the stereo belting out a childhood favorite after a long, twisty, carsick ride just to get to that little vacation spot. There is something to each photo above that makes me remember the bigger picture. The good and the bad.

Often we post these sweet images…the results of the life we are living. From the outside looking in it all looks pretty perfect. And maybe that’s what the point is. Remembering these moments.

I don’t think when I look back at the end of my days that I’ll think much about the blood, sweat, and tears it took for me to get to those moments above. I think I’ll remember the parts that counted. Call me an optimist or a glass half full kinda gal…or even a goldfish. It’s all true. But I think I want to remember the good parts anyhow. It’s why we do the hard stuff in the first place.

Just remember, those good parts are just the result of the invisible work behind the photo.

Returning

About a week ago, I went to the beach for an afternoon walk. It was a Friday and I needed some space. I needed something different than my house, my prison. I was looking for something - in myself, in the universe, in life. Answers. Signs. Something tangible while I walk this overwhelming phase of life.

As I wandered quietly on the beach that day watching the sandpipers searching for treasures hidden in the sand, all I could think of was the contrast of how huge things feel in me, but how small they seem in the grand scheme of things. Oceans and planets. Birds and little clams. Feather stuck in grains of sand. Swirling clouds. It all felt much bigger than me.

My head and my heart have been swirling like the clouds in this stormy photo. Last year was a frustrating and learning year for me - personally speaking. So these days, I feel I am seeking grounding. Something calm. Strong. Supportive. Something that calls back to me and says - “it’s okay, you are okay. We have got your back.”

It’s natural for me to come here when I feel overwhelmed to this beach on Kiawah. This beach is where I grew up. I spent days walking it’s sandy quiet shores alone as a teenager, and then later, as an adult, with my little toddler in tow, his little sunkissed legs dangling out of the jog stroller. It’s where I found my connection with my spirituality. So every time I come here, it’s like coming home. It’s like returning to myself.

The quietness and solitude of the beach in winter is one of the things I always look forward to…no tourists, no families splashing in the waves, no young adults sunning themselves. Just me, my thoughts and the occasional sandpiper to watch.

I keep coming back here. Over and over again. I keep searching for the sign. Maybe it’s whispering gently in the wind. Or stuck in a seashell. Or swirling around in the clouds. Or maybe, if I can quiet my mind enough, I’ll be able to hear it beating in my very own heart.