Here's the thing. When it comes to OCD and anxiety, one has to learn how to get more comfortable with uncertainty. 

I can dig this cerebrally. Like I get that nothing is truly certain, that there are no guarantees. That I'm not going to ever be completely protected from germs that could make me sick or that I'm not ever going to know with 100% accuracy that the bridge I'm driving on isn't going to suddenly bust. But getting that to really land in my bones is much more difficult.

I do have some safety net of assurance if I look at statistics, evidence to the contrary, and have really good hand hygiene, etc, but absolutely nothing is ever certain (except uncertainty, maybe).

So the work of living a full and beautiful life (maybe even regardless of an OCD diagnosis) is to become better at surrender, at weighing the options that will lead to more joy, connectedness, and success on your terms.

It becomes the work of noticing, breathing into and out of surrender, of choosing in each...

Many of you know that I reignited this blog via a 30 Day Project Sprint as part of Mel Robbins LAUNCH program. In addition to making the commitment to writing for 15 minutes a day for 30 days (minus Sundays, because working 7 days a week is not a boundary I was willing to cross) we had short, daily lessons and a community cheering each other on.

So today is day 29... (geez, the perfectionist in me is loud today... "well technically you only did 25 days so far, tomorrow will be 26, and then there was that one day Mel said the lesson activity could count as our 15 minutes so I did a live in the Rebel Writers group about the process, so I'll end up with 25/30... which I guess is a B- so that just goes to show you how mediocre you really did with this project...")

Do you see what I have to deal with here?

Maybe this is the biggest lesson of all with this 30 Day sprint: count the wins, not the numbers. Not the exactness of following the rules, but how I showed up when I said I was going...

It's Saturday morning, I'm sitting on the porch enjoying the breeze under a cloudy sky. The air feels different today and something is stirring, circling overhead like the flock of vultures I witnessed at the intersection earlier today.

Today, I'm doing more resting than usual, nursing myself back to full health through a bit of a sore throat and cough. What am I not speaking to? What needs to be voiced? This is the question that comes up whenever it aches. It's something, and perhaps it's a simple as "write the introduction you've been avoiding." Or perhaps it is something bigger, a deeper truth that's emerging. We shall see.

As I prepare for a writing retreat I'm hosting next week with some of my favorite people, I'm reflecting on how much community helps me be accountable. It's not that I'm unreliable on my own, but it's just easier to write and create with a dedicated time and group of people all on the path. Mirror neurons. Body doubling... the ways in which we humans are...

One of my dear friends and writing coach, Jena Schwartz has an exercise that she does regularly with her writers called "11s." I'm not sure exactly why, but it's magical in getting words on the page. So this Friday morning, I'm dedicating this writing time to my 11s:

1. My dogs are fluffy, it's time for a haircut but I keep forgetting to call the groomer. Perhaps I'll do that next, if I remember. I think of this as they snuff and snortle next to me on the couch as I type this. I'm grateful for the company.

2. My brain feels tired today. Lots of work and change in routine, woke from dreams that were more bizarre than usual. A bear as a house pet running amok in the dining room before dinner. 

3. It's beautiful outside, but I can still feel the pollen dust on my laptop from yesterday when I worked outside on the porch. Maybe that's why my throat is a little sore. I'll still enjoy the sun and the breeze, just maybe from inside today instead.

4. I read an article about a tornado...

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...

"Set a timer for 15 minutes," I tell my child sitting a few cushions down from me on the couch.

"Okay... Ready, Set, Go!"

I begin typing here, now, because I am a writer who writes. And, because I am in integrity with the promises I make to myself about writing for at least 15 minutes a day and posting it on my blog. 

So here I am writing, after a full day supporting clients at different phases and stages of building their business, of up leveling their marketing, of writing and dreaming up new beginnings.

Of endings, too. With each level of expansion we enter in, there is a closing of doors, a turning away from so that we may turn toward the next iteration of who we are becoming. What an honor to witness and share this journey with so many amazing humans doing good work in the world.

Expansion isn't easy, the cycle of contraction and expansion, of opening and closing is not an easy one. But we don't have to suffer unnecessarily in it, we can acknowledge the grief and the...

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...