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The Little Things

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I’m lying beside my husband, and his feet are resting on my leg. It’s not dramatic. It’s not romantic in the way movies make romance look. There’s no music swelling in the background or perfect lighting or carefully chosen words. It’s just… this. The quiet weight of another human being you’ve built a life with. The casual comfort of closeness that doesn’t need explanation. The unspoken “I’m here” communicated through touch instead of language. These are the moments I want to bring my awareness to. Because the big moments—the milestones, the celebrations, the photographs we frame—those already demand our attention. They announce themselves loudly. They insist on being remembered. But this? This is easy to miss. It’s easy to scroll past, to think about tomorrow, to replay yesterday, to let your mind drift into everything else that feels urgent. It’s easy to forget that one day, this exact moment won’t exist anymore. And that’s the truth that quietly humbles me. The little things are what...
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Late-Stage Consumerism

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 So... I made something. And I feel like this system we live in is so absurd that I've decided to sell it at an absurd price. These are my thoughts that go with my piece....  Late-Stage Consumerism is a one-of-a-kind woven collage created entirely from discarded ads, flyers, and packaging... the very scraps of the system that constantly tells us to buy more, need more, become more. I made this piece out of frustration, exhaustion, and a deep urge to say “enough.” We live in a culture where everything has a price tag, where products are designed to break, and where we’re expected to keep producing and consuming as if that’s the meaning of life. Every day we’re told who to be, what to want, and what to buy next. This artwork is my response; not with violence, not with destruction, but with transformation. Instead of throwing these ads away, I wove them into a new pattern, reclaiming the noise and reshaping it into something that demands attention instead of obedience. Nothing ab...
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A Constant Recreation

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  Lately I’ve been seeing myself as a constant recreation — a work of art that’s never finished. In Christianity, there’s this image of being clay in the Potter’s hands. And honestly, I do feel like clay… soft, shapeable, unfinished. But I also feel like I’m the Potter. There’s something empowering about realizing I can create and recreate myself over and over again. That I’m allowed to shift, to stretch, to be wrong, to evolve, to begin again. My only job is to stay flexible enough to be shaped — whether by life, by outside energy, or by my own two hands. I think that’s part of what makes children so magical. They don’t cling to “how it’s supposed to be.” They just know life could be different, and they stay open to possibility. If we started our journey crawling and believed crawling was the only way… we never would’ve stood up to walk. But knowing we’re always becoming gives us the courage to rise . And that makes me wonder: What if there is more? What if we are more? What if I ...
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What is this? I found it, something I wrote and forgot... Unpolished.

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The winds blow and they are the winds of change. The leaves fall. I can feel it in my veins.  When I wake up the first place I want to be is outside. I want to smell and feel to exist and be held. Im here in the moments of stillness in the grounded Earth.  Finding balance, here is where you'll find me. It's so good.  It's so good, I don't even see it until I realize it's leaving me.  Knowing I'm going to be without it has me holding on to every single movement in every single moment.  I wonder can you be so present when you have so much time? I feel in awe and raw both welling and building and pouring out all at the same time. - Every fall is like a little death. I can't help but mourn for my moments outside.  Maybe that's all it is. Maybe I need to change my mind.  Because death brings new life, it's just all in time.  The winds of change are coming and they are here. So I hold on to this moment until it disappears... 
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Rooted and Wandering: Where Will We Best Exist?

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  Lately, I’ve found myself reflecting on the places we’ve lived, the places we’ve visited, and the ones still tugging at us from a distance. Not just the locations, but the feelings they left behind. What they taught us. How they shaped who we are—and how they continue to shape what we long for. With the world shifting so quickly, we keep asking where we truly belong. Where will we best exist—not just to survive, but to feel alive, to grow, to breathe more deeply? The kind of place that supports who we are now, and who we’re still becoming. For me, the stillness I felt in Mexico wasn’t just peace—it was revelation. It was the quiet understanding that life can look entirely different from what we’re used to… and that’s not just okay—it’s beautiful. Mexico showed me that existence doesn’t have to come with pressure. That it’s enough to live simply, intentionally, in rhythm with your surroundings. It softened something in me, reminded me I don’t need to hustle to be worthy. Out west,...
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Pelvic Floor Real Talk: What I’ve Learned at 40

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  People talk about pelvic floor issues as you age, but I’m realizing something important: every single situation is different, and every story is worth sharing — because we can all learn from each other. I have pelvic floor issues. And honestly? I don’t feel embarrassed about it. My hormones are changing, I’m losing collagen and elasticity in my connective tissues, and my estrogen isn’t exactly cooperating these days. I’ve started taking a liver support supplement to help with inflammation and, hopefully, support better hormone balance. (While research on liver supplements directly improving estrogen is limited, supporting your liver health can help your body process hormones and reduce inflammation — so it may help some people.) I’ve also done pelvic floor physical therapy and learned some tips that have been invaluable. One challenge I’ve run into is this: I know lifting heavy weights is recommended — it helps build bone density and muscle mass and can even support hormone healt...
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A New Season of Gratitude: Loving My Body Through the Work

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Recently, I’ve come face-to-face with the reality that life can change drastically in a single moment. Everything we know — everything that feels certain — can shift without warning. That realization made me pause and really think about how much I take for granted. Every deep breath I take is a gift. Every time I bend down to pick something up, I should feel grateful for my spine, my muscles, my lungs — all working together without my even noticing. It’s easy to focus on what feels wrong: the areas of my body I wish looked different, the aches and pains, the fatigue, the tasks I can’t seem to get to. But instead, I want to focus on gratitude. Gratitude for what is working. For what my body can still do. For the ways I’m still able to show up for my life. --- From Burnout to Breakthrough When we first moved into our current house, we went full throttle — fixing, painting, and making it into the home we dreamed of. We poured so much energy into it that, eventually, we burned ourselves ou...
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