On the darkest day of the year, sitting by the fire with fear, uncertainty, and fierce love, I found myself choosing presence over productivity, truth over silence, and softness over control. In this intimate reflection, I share what surfaced after receiving unexpected MRI results, how generational patterns revealed themselves, and the quiet, sacred moments with my children that reminded me why I am still here—breathing, loving, choosing light even in the dark. This is a story of fear, healing, and returning home to myself.

This season has stripped me of certainty.

Of answers. Of clarity.

In the full piece, I go deeper into what it feels like to live in survival mode—when the nervous system is stuck in fight or flight and control becomes both a shield and a burden. I explore the quiet exhaustion of “not knowing,” the tension between holding on and letting go, and why sometimes the most radical act of healing is to stop naming the experience altogether.

If you’re walking through your own long hallway right now—questioning, tired, and craving permission to simply be—this reflection is for you.

Tonight I sat by the fire and finally named what I’m releasing this full moon:

the old patterns of control, fear, and survival that have woven themselves into my mothering.

As I opened, my mom came through with a message I didn’t expect—one that softened me, steadied me, and reminded me I’m not doing this alone.

This journey isn’t about perfect parenting.

It’s about healing the stories we inherited and choosing a new way forward. ✨🔥

Everything in my life has felt heavy lately.

A flooded basement.

Hospital trips with my child’s burn.

Financial fear.

Health coverage that feels like a joke.

And dreams that mirror it all with startling clarity.

But something clicked:

This isn’t punishment.

This is initiation.

My latest blog weaves together the spider dream that warned me, the triathlon dream that reflected me, and the real-life fire I’m walking through now — and why it’s all part of a much bigger transformation.

Inside, I share the moment I realized the fear I was carrying didn’t belong to my adult self at all — it belonged to a 5-year-old part of me who truly believed she was holding our entire world together.

The part terrified I would disappear if she loosened her grip.

I show you exactly how I found her, how I understood her fear, and the small reading ritual that helped her finally soften.

If you’ve ever felt frozen in fight-or-flight, overwhelmed by life’s pressures, or confused why your body reacts so intensely… this is a doorway into your own inner world.

What happens when the weight of the day settles into your bones and the questions about your worth rise louder than your own breath? Tonight’s journal entry dives into the firelight—into the place where exhaustion, unworthiness, and unexpected gratitude meet. This is the raw, unfiltered truth of mothering while healing… and the small spark that kept glowing even when everything felt dark.

Some days the body whispers, and other days it screams. Today mine held nothing back. Between inconclusive test results, water rising in the basement, and the weight of questioning everything I thought I was certain about… something in me cracked open.

In the unraveling, I found myself face-to-face with the systems I’ve chosen to step away from, the exhaustion that comes with forging a different path, and the quiet voice inside asking, Is it supposed to feel this hard?

Yet even in the overwhelm, a thin thread of grace revealed itself. A reminder that healing isn’t linear—and that the foundations that flood often point us back to what’s asking to be rebuilt.

In the quiet of this winter, something deeper is rising—old grief, lineage wounds, the spiritual meaning behind the pain in my kidneys, and a message from the healers who walked before me.

As I sit between motherhood and mysticism, fear and awakening, the veil thins… and what I see chills me in the most sacred way.

This is the part of the story I’ve never shared—the moment the channel opened, the guilt surfaced, and the women of my lineage called me to the fire.

Unlock the full post to read the message forming in the shadows and the truth I’m finally ready to face.

A hospital hallway pulled me back into the deepest wound of my childhood—and forward into the initiation I never expected. Fear, memory, and Spirit all collided that night. This is the story I’ve never told, and the healing I didn’t know I was ready for.

This morning my son’s screams cracked something open in me… but what broke wasn’t my patience — it was the part of myself I’ve ignored for years. What happened next felt like an inner rebirth, a remembering, a contract between body and soul. This is the story of how I finally turned toward her… and what she told me when I did.

We’ve all known fear that takes our breath away — the moment a single word changes everything. In this deeply personal reflection, I share how the word cancer became not a sentence, but an invitation. A call to look deeper, to heal what was never truly mine, and to meet the unknown with compassion and courage.
If you’re walking through uncertainty or learning to trust your body again, this story will speak directly to your heart.

In the quiet of morning firelight, a message came through — a call to gather, to rest, and to remember. This post is a channel of that guidance: an offering for the women being asked to strengthen their roots and return to ceremony.

Motherhood is a living ceremony — one that doesn’t always look peaceful or poised. Sometimes it sounds like a yell echoing through the walls, carrying centuries of unspoken pain, love, and transformation. This is the story of learning to love that yell, to see it not as failure, but as a sacred release.

What if the part of you that scares you most is also the one that came to heal you?

We’re all chasing something — the next product, the next healing tool, the next “upgrade.” But what if the key to awakening isn’t in adding more... but in remembering how to simply be?

On Samhain night, as the veil between worlds thinned, I was reminded that death isn’t just an ending — it’s a sacred transformation. From motherhood to loss, even in the hardest goodbyes, life is always whispering its way back in.

Between the afternoon crashes, the mom guilt, and the worry of being judged, I realized my relationship with food wasn’t about willpower—it was about healing. What if every craving is really your body’s way of asking for presence?

We finally talked about money and didn’t fight — and it only took us a decade to get here. Growth is wild, beautiful, and worth it. Read more

When the first signs of sickness creep in, we turn to our tried and true: Elderberry Syrup.