As a young adult, I was resistant to the word "work" when it came to love and relationships. I believed if you loved someone or something that it should be easy, and if it wasn't well then maybe it wasn't really love.

Becoming a mother certainly dispelled that myth. I love my children deeply, wholly, with every essence of my being and yet that love is sometimes work. When they are little, it's the physical work of diligence, of diapers, of physical safety. It's the work of language, modeling behaviors, and of giving.

When they are older, it's the work of patience, of redirection, of listening, and honing in on the mental and emotional safety of becoming--especially through the teenage years.

My kids are mostly young adults now, love comes in deep waves of pride and gratitude. The work is now more about releasing with love, into the wild, wide world exploring and becoming. Honoring their shifts, their learning, their work. 

It is work to love people wholly. We are imperfectly...

I walked out of my favorite coffee shop this morning offering up gratitude with a quick, "Thanks guys!" as I turned to go. I love the people at this particular place, especially the eclectic bunch of 20-somethings that work there. They are just SO cool, and they deliver a great product and treat people with such curiosity and kindness. 

As I got to my car, though, I began to wonder about my use of the word, "guys." Curious about where it falls among the spectrum of gendered language. When I was in college, my writing professor brought to us his definition of the word "guys" as something gender neutral, and in the 90s I think it pretty much was accepted that way among many. I still often use the term as a collective "you all" my intention not affirming nor denying any sense of placement along the gender spectrum.

But language is always evolving, as we humans continue to grow and evolve. Expansion being our birthright as we hurdle through space on this planet within an...

Change is hard sometimes, even when it's good. There is a lot of transition happening simultaneously in my world, and for many of you as well. Graduations, shifts in work, change of seasons... each of us holding on to some semblance of what we've known while looking forward to what is coming.

I write this from my porch, a favorite place of mine to spend mornings reflecting, working, and connecting with the people and furry friends in my home. I'm pensive. This weekend marks a subtle shift as my youngest child graduates from high school and I'm feeling pretty excited for what's next. I won't have an empty nest, but things will still change. And it's good. 

There's this sense that I've done my job, though we all know parenting doesn't end at 18. I've managed to birth and help steward three humans through their childhoods into relative independence and success since 1998. While the work continues, this is definitely an occasion to stop and celebrate: a milestone of many more to...

I'm not gonna lie. A lot of the work I do for my writing clients I've created because I needed them first. When I first committed to writing my memoir nearly 2 years ago, I knew I needed a space to show up consistently and write. As someone who does a lot of inner work, I know myself pretty well and understood that I'd be really good at distracting myself from making progress.

So I created the Writer's Room and invited others to show up with me. I knew if others were counting on me to hold the space that I would have no choice but to show up. My rebel self couldn't talk me out of it, though it continues to try. The space is amazing, two years into the membership and so many women are showing up for themselves in a new way: consistent, self-compassionate, and connected. It's a dream come true and an honor to hold the space.

And as I enter the next phases of my manuscript development, I am teaching others what I've learned along the way. Even after decades of writing work, editing...

It's all right here for you, though it may seem far it's really just an intention away. The fingertips touching into existence a dream unfolding.

We walk through this world, eyes closed and heart open. Yet we can not see in our minds eye what is possible until we can taste it, feel it, know it to be true.

And that's where TRUST comes in. Words like "Faith" and "Belief" have been twisted so often into religious piety, rightousness, and false pretenses that what lies underneath The Word is lost. I'm sad about that, because true faith and love are a vibrational match to all things possible in Light. 

I may not make much sense to you today, but the Universe is speaking and I can hardly hear it through the mess of the mind, the chaos of war outside, and the hurting that exists on the planet. I have to believe that our Faith and Trust in what we envision for ourselves, in what we wish to serve up for others to grow, expand and love more deeply and palpably exists if only we would...

On Friday night, I participated in my first dance recital in more that fifteen years. I would perform on occasion when my kids were little, and even sang in a band for years. Performing, while always a little nerve-wracking, was more exciting and fun to me until the anxiety weighed more in recent years.

So getting back on that stage, with its bright lights and an amazing group of women who were also willing and able to tap their hearts out was an amazing feat. I knew the steps, had practiced enough, and was ready.

What I hadn't anticipated was the surge of adrenaline and panic making it so I couldn't really move my legs that well. In the 2 minutes we were on stage I smiled, I turned when the group turned, I went in and out of my lines appropriately, but my feet did not really do the steps. The taps did not make the sounds I'd practiced, and my mind felt blank. 

The song ended and I came off the stage a little bit in shock and wanting to cry. But I did it, and focused on what...

A Saturday Sun Poem:

Thank you for the golden light
That allows me to remember:

the wind in my hair
the joy of laughter
the spirit of magic
the whispers of joy

Thank you for the warmth
That soothes an ache I can't name:

the longing of memory
the stillness of sorrow
the restlessness of heart
the passing of time

Thank you for the way 
you paint a picture of home:

the greens and blues
the subtle hues
of pink and orange
that pull me outward
when I struggle within

My therapist and I talked today about the OCD loop from last week. He had some new ideas about what I could try moving forward, if I was willing. Over the last two years, I've done some seriously good work to overcome many things that give rise to panic and anxiety, but I've not been willing to work on the food stuff. It is truly the biggest challenge for me, and I have to confront it regularly.

I have a running list in my head of the foods I won't or can't eat. (Having real food sensitivities compounds the issue) so it's often easier to list the things I will eat. I'll spare you the time and details for now, but let's just say that nearly everything I eat is pretty boring. Especially when one is eating the same thing for days...

We went back to the basics of psychology. Remember Pavlov's dog? Well, humans aren't much different. We are conditioned to respond to triggers, cues, and environments based on what has been paired up in our brains. How many of you hear a cell...

Earlier today, I was pondering the "what do I write about today?" question and took my own advice from a previous blog post and googled "journal prompts." It's a literal gold mine out there, people, so don't hesitate to look there.

One site I found not only has the daily prompts, but a space for others to leave their aha moments and responses, so if you need a little deeper inspiration you can find it there: https://grateful.org/practice/daily-questions/

I scrolled through the Grateful Living site and picked this: "When I view the time available to me with a sense of abundance, what arises?"

I chuckled at the concept of an abundance of time because it often feels like every moment of my life is spoken for--even though a lot of it is the stuff I have intentionally chosen to fill it with. Maybe you can relate? When the busyness of life gets to be too much, how can we shift our perspective to feel more abundant with time?

I think it has to do more with micro moments than...

Yesterday I got seriously stuck in an OCD loop. It's something that rarely happens, but the combined energy of roaring PMS, a brief argument with my partner, and maybe some planet in retrograde made it so that I had to keep assuring myself that the dishes I had just put away were in fact clean.

I was preparing my breakfast and had taken a bowl down from the cabinet and filled it with a half a cup of dry oats. Then the intrusive question came: Did I actually run the dishwasher last night?

The doubt settles in. I go back in my mind and retrace my steps. I see myself putting the soap in, pressing start, turning the clean/dirty magnet on its side--the cue to anyone in the house that the dishwasher is running and not to open it. 

When I came into the kitchen this morning the magnet had been on its side, but the "clean" light was off. Someone had opened it before I put the dishes away. Because I didn't see the light on with my own eyes, it triggered more doubt.

I am...