How is it already June? May was a gift. A beautiful tending. A tending of relationships. Of my heart. Of the things beneath the surface that required care. There were beautiful gifts, and disappointments too. Ones that asked me to sit with the sting while still recognizing what is already present and worthy of gratitude.… Continue reading June: Feminine Power
We are taught from childhood to smile through stress and insist we're “fine,” even when we’re falling apart inside. This personal reflection explores the quiet exhaustion of holding everything together, the unexpected relief of finally breaking down, and the small moment of human kindness that made it okay to not be okay.
Perhaps the people breaking down first are not broken at all. A reflection on sensitivity, exhaustion, and the unhealthy rhythms of modern life.
Looking toward May, I can’t help but anticipate a tending. Coming from the space I’ve been occupying,the fallow, the seed planted,I find myself asking what this asks of me next. When I think of the seed, there isn’t a sudden bloom.No clear moment where everything shifts into color. Not yet. If April was the seed,quietly… Continue reading May: The Tending
April has been quieter and softer than I expected. Not in the same way as before, not like January's subtle adjustments, the pause that holds its breath. Not like February's cleansing and stillness that waits for something to begin. This is a different kind. It's the kind of quiet where something has already begun, something… Continue reading April: The Seed
When I was young, it was easy for me to love. I handed out my heart like there was an infinite supply, like it was a thing that couldn't be dented, or bruised, or tossed aside. There was no math in my affection or comprehension of the harm others could do. At that age, love… Continue reading Here Anyway
In farming, there is a season where the land is left unsown. To anyone passing by, the field looks empty. Quiet. Even wasteful, especially when the sun is high and the growing season is in full swing. It can look like neglect. Like laziness. Like something is being missed. But that stillness isn’t absence. It’s… Continue reading The Fallow Season
My heart has called me home. There was a certain sheepishness as I followed her call; I hadn't realized I'd abandoned her throne, leaving nothing but dust on her seat. Stress and anxiety had lured me away, whispering that my value lay in the lands of others. The relentless machine of obligation overwhelmed me. I… Continue reading My Heart
Insecurities are an interesting thing. We treat them like small, shameful secrets, yet we allow them to dominate large swaths of our lives. For some, that insecurity might be a vice; for others, it’s the shape of their body or the weight of a decade-old mistake. We live in constant fear that we’ll be "branded"… Continue reading And It Worked
I used to fear the word content. I heard it as a heavy, rusted anchor, a settling of the soul into the silt of the mundane. I thought it meant the end of the climb, the extinguishing of the fire, the quiet surrender of a heart that had simply stopped trying to grow. I saw… Continue reading Already Home
