What Is For You Will Find You.

Two years ago while browsing in a bookstore, a beautiful book caught my eye.

The purposefully faded title in certain places was an invitation to the nuance of loss and change, which I noticed and admired.

I flipped through it, noting the author’s name and appreciating his perspective on bringing ritual back into our lives. Something that’s been absent from our current cultural landscape.

A few weeks later while looking at Esalen workshops to attend that year, my eyes recognized a familiar name. Day Schildkret. I looked his name up, and sure enough, it was the same author of the book I’d seen earlier.

Fast forward one year, he has so generously blurbed my book Food For Thought. And this weekend, I started a 9-month Morning Altars Teaching Training course with him to learn these practices of weaving nature, art/creativity, and ritual together for healing and hope.

I am excited to see what will unfold in the next nine months, and ultimately incorporate these practices into my client work and group retreats. With the epidemic of loneliness and anxiety/depression skyrocketing, now more than ever, we need to reconnect back to nature and to ourselves. People are craving a tangible practice. Using nature allows us to weave together our inner and outer landscapes through wondering, wandering, giving, receiving, and most of all, remembering. Remembering who we are and why we are here.

One exercise today was to find an object in our house that we usually overlook. How can you cherish it again? How can you behold the ordinary and make it new again?

Afterwards, I released it and gave it back to nature.

What is for us will always find us. Stay open to miracles and magic. I would have never guessed that feeling a connection to a certain book in a bookstore would invite me into a journey of discovery and a deeper connection to nature and art that waters the seeds of my life purpose and path.

The Dangers of Certainty.

Wandering with wonder amongst the old growth Redwoods in Jedidiah Smith State Park.

Do you believe in past lives? Have you ever met someone and they feel strangely familiar and comfortable, like you already share inside jokes and memories? Or kissed someone for the first time and your body immediately recognized theirs as home?

I asked a pastor once if he believed in past lives. He replied, “Certainly not.” His certainty immediately shut down our conversation. It left no room for pondering.

I used to crave certainty because it calmed my lizard brain. But now I see how too much of it closes off other possibilities. Prevents us from wondering. From being curious and interested and asking deeper questions.

“Wonder makes the unknown interesting, attractive and miraculous. That’s why when wonder awakens in your life, it is the lovely subtle presence that is always at the threshold of your heart transfiguring the anonymous into the Intimate.”

— John O'Donohue

I don’t want to be certain about everything. I want to live in a state of childlike wonder. To explore the unknown and mystery with wide eyes and an open heart. To make room for magic. I want to laugh and cry and kiss you, convinced that this visceral connection is proof we were sisters or lovers in a past life.

How to Save Your Female Friendships When You're On Different Life Paths.

Last week, I came across this article and while on my run, I thought about the author’s perspective and how mine differs.

I know nothing about feeding schedules. Or how it feels to spend time and energy making a meal only to have your child refuse to eat it. I have never experienced mastitis or had to worry about a leaking bladder due to pelvic floor issues after giving birth. Or juggling multiple to-do lists, school pick-up and drop-offs, while also making sure the dog gets walked and there’s clean laundry.

But I do know about loneliness. The solo exhaustion of making all the decisions, all the time. Funding 100% of living expenses, groceries, and travel. Driving and navigating to places without having the luxury of just relaxing in the passenger’s seat and choosing the playlist for the trip. Listening while well-intentioned people say, “You just need to get out there more,” and “Have you tried the apps?”

I believe it’s possible for women to stay friends even when they’re on completely different life paths. Stay open. Don’t write each other off. Be brave enough to share the light and the shadows. Share pics and stories. Celebrate first steps and first dates. We’re all running this race of life together, so we might as well be each other’s cheering squad.

Flower Piano.

For the past four years, I’ve been wanting to attend Flower Piano, where 12 grand pianos are placed all around SF Botanical Gardens. This year, I was finally able to go.

My favorite part of Flower Piano 🌸🎹 wasn’t seeing the polished performers with fancy dresses and music stands.

It was watching the shy, awkward boy settle and relax into his true brilliance as soon as he played the opening notes of his song.

It was listening to an unassuming teen dressed in a black hoodie and baggy jeans, absolutely rock the audience with his seamless performance of Chopin. The ordinary folks with extraordinary talent were the most fascinating for me.

It was feeling my own heart pound with fear/excitement (I know they both feel the same in the body!) as a pianist stood up from the bench to give the opportunity for other pianists to play.

It was listening to the voice of my friend, nudging me gently and whispering, “Now’s your chance to play!” as I watched more and more people trickle in and set up blankets on the lawn. Tentatively, I stood up and made my way to the piano, placed my fingers on the familiar black and white keys and played from my heart.

If life is like a piano, I want to hear everyone’s song. Young and old. Novice and advanced. I want to sit with my feet in the grass- smiling, surprised, and delighted by all.

A Quick Tool to Calm and Ground Yourself.

Inspired by the sweet, delicious boysenberries as we end the summer…

For all adults, girls, and BOYSENBERRY busy, stressful, and demanding environments, here’s a quick tool to calm and re-center yourself.

•Open up your hand so it looks like a starfish ⭐️
•Beginning with your thumb, sync your breath while you trace the outline of each finger
•Slowly inhale through your nose as you go up your finger
•Slowly exhale through your mouth as you down your finger
•Repeat with all five fingers

It’s a fast yet effective way to reset and ground yourself so you can enter into that next meeting, class, or conversation with intention and clarity.

If you’re enjoying these food illustrations, puns, and lifestyle tips, be sure to check out my book Food For Thought, coming out soon in Nov 2023!

Delicious Ambiguity.

I started making daily to-do lists when I was twelve. My brain loves structure and organization and certainty. Give me a checklist to follow and Mr. Anxiety is nowhere in sight. But to-do lists rarely take into consideration life’s unexpected curve balls. When life is dismantled and in disarray, there is no list. Only chaos.

Available for purchase in my shop.

My friend Ted gave me a card with this quote when I finished grad school. I found it while unpacking my things when I moved back in with my parents after a broken engagement. At the time, ambiguity felt anything but delicious. It felt dark. Directionless. Depressing. Devastating. I would’ve used any other adjective to describe floating aimlessly in life while everyone else was merrily checking off the boxes of a successful life. But there was something about this quote that gave me hope. Hope for something new. Something better.

This particular card survived four moves thereafter, pinned on various apartment refrigerators and eventually making its way onto my vision board. Uncertainty makes me uncomfortable. But the itch to experience every drop of what life has to offer, the thrill of growing and developing into the next version of myself, urges me forward into the unknown.

Everytime I am tempted to stay safe and comfortable, I am reminded of Radner’s invitation to view ambiguity as delicious. Juicy. Something worth savoring. Ripe with opportunity. Bursting with flavor. Ready to be enjoyed.

And it is up to me- up to all of us- to take that first bite.

The Key To Having A Good Work Ethic.

Is to have a good rest ethic.

Devote as much time to resting, relaxing, musing, pondering, dreaming, and replenishing yourself mentally and physically as you spend on your work. The best ideas come when we’re in a state of flow. Not when we’re actively working to solve a problem, grinding out a task, or creating spreadsheets. They arrive unexpectedly while we’re soaping up and rinsing off in the shower. While driving. On a morning walk. After an afternoon nap. While peeling a mandarin orange.

Take sabbaticals. Go on vacation. Give yourself space and breathing room between big projects to re-center, re-calibrate, and reflect. On a daily basis, architect these intentional spaces of rest into your day.

Athletes know this well. After a peak training phase, there’s a recovery week (mentally and physically) built in. Without this rest/recovery phase included in the structure of the training plan, they’ll likely burn out or get injured.

Our work is important. But in order to do high-quality, impactful work, we need to be rested. Replenished. Recharged. Rejuvenated.

To have a good work ethic, have a good rest ethic.

Grateful Living.

Appreciating the beauty on the road of life.

Most of us are familiar with gratitude. But what about the notion of grateful living? Grateful living is continuing to practice gratitude even and especially in times that are challenging and difficult. When you’ve lost your job. When the MRI results reveal your worst fear. When your body erupts in hives and you find out your ex is taking you to court. When you’ve lost all sensation in your arms and legs and you’re now confined to a wheelchair.

These are the opportunities to practice grateful living. Perhaps it’s finding gratitude in the opportunity to pivot careers and pursue the business idea you had since you were 23. Maybe this is celebrating the fact you have health insurance and a care team to support you through the next steps in your health. Perhaps it’s celebrating you have the financial means to hire the best attorney. Or allowing, for the first time in a long time, to be cared for, sponge-bathed, and fed by your loved ones.

Grateful living is not always easy. But it provides an opportunity for you to take back your power, focus on what’s going well, and find internal freedom and joy even despite challenging circumstances.

Anchor.

An incredible view of Crater Lake a few minutes before the storm came in…

When someone shares a song with you, you naturally think about them when it comes on. Last Saturday this happened, and I sent that person good thoughts. It’d been months since we’d last chatted.

Two days ago, out of the blue- he told me his sailboat had flipped over from 40 mph winds and he was stranded in the middle of Flathead Lake, Montana. The story made the local news. For 11 hours throughout the night, he balanced precariously on top of his boat. It was, essentially his ‘dark night of the soul’. The search and rescue teams reached him the following morning. He survived mentally and physically by staying present with his thoughts, grounding himself somatically, and harnessing breathwork to stay rooted.

“What night did this happen?” I asked.

“Saturday,” he said.

The same day I’d heard the song and sent him good thoughts.

The song? “Anchor” by Novo Amor.

The world is big and the universe is vast, but moments like this remind me that we're all interconnected and intertwined.

The Chorus of Your Soul.

The Forest of Nisene Marks State Park, Santa Cruz

There are times when I listen to a stanza of a song and I don’t know all the words. But when it reaches the chorus, my whole body lights up. I know the chorus. I sing it from the depths of my being.

Sometimes the stanzas of life feel unfamiliar and new. We tentatively sing the words, unsure of ourselves. But what roots us is the chorus.

I hope you always return to the chorus— the melody you know by heart, the one you hum while folding laundry, the place that feels like home. Your place of belonging and comfort and strength. I hope you return there again and again, even after many seasons, to find refuge and remember your song.