This year, and perhaps the last several, have felt like a pause. July felt like that more acutely. Life slowed. Sometimes it even felt like nothing was happening. Or that maybe I'd stepped off the path while everyone else around me kept moving forward. Growth and change isn't always visible, though. I've continually been returning… Continue reading August: Roots Before Wings
What type of growth is happening when nothing appears to be changing? It doesn’t surprise me that my life feels slower and calmer now, and that that slow and calm has sometimes been confused with a state of not moving. They say calm after the chaos can feel boring. I think there is truth to… Continue reading What the Mud Grows
We often think we're shaped by life's biggest moments, but it's the steady nourishment we receive every day that transforms us most. A chance encounter, a classroom experiment, and an older couple dancing led me to reflect on the people, ideas, and relationships that shape not only who we become, but the world we help create.
I’ve believing that somewhere else would finally feel like home as I’ve grappled with the discomfort of life transitions and the unknown. This season of my life is teaching me something different, though. Maybe coming home was never about finding a place. Maybe it has always been about returning to myself.
June was emergence. Quite literally for me, as I moved from teaching full-time into summer—a literal emergence from one season into another. Though it didn't unfold the way I imagined it would. Every year, when school ends, I spend the first week of summer doing much the same thing: sleeping, resting, recuperating. Letting my nervous… Continue reading July: The Queen’s Garden
Sometimes life doesn't hand us the thing we imagined because it wasn't the destination. It was the invitation. The rehearsal. The practice match that shows us we're finally ready when the real thing arrives. Some opportunities change our lives. Others simply reveal that we've already changed.
Why does life feel paused when everything on paper is perfectly fine? If you are feeling a restless craving for more meaning, purpose, and aliveness, you aren’t alone. We are standing in a collective doorway. We are no longer who we were, but not yet who we are becoming.
We often think people-pleasing only happens in toxic relationships. But what happens when we use understanding to silence our honesty in healthy ones?
What if love isn’t meant to feel like a battlefield? A reflection on how we confuse intensity with connection, and why healthy love often feels like peace, safety, and coming home.
I was one class away from finishing my master's degree when I asked my dad for help paying for it. He said no. Looking back, I wonder if that moment became the foundation of my hypervigilance; the belief that if I planned well enough, carried enough, and anticipated every possibility, I would never have to ask for help again.
