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.

There are moments when the path feels slow, unclear, and tangled in doubt. But what if those pauses are the very moments teaching us to trust the unseen—to breathe, surrender, and remember that every step is part of becoming who we’re meant to be?

Today, the garlic taught me something.
About slowing down. About trusting the seasons. About not needing to bloom all year long.
If you’ve been feeling tired, scattered, or guilty for needing rest — this one’s for you.

Have you ever done everything right—eating clean, drinking water, moving your body—yet still felt like something was off?

Every year, I get asked how we prepare for the colder months—what supplements we take, what foods we eat, and how we stay well.
This year, I’m sharing our full winter wellness rhythm: the simple, grounded ways we support our immune systems, skin, and spirits through the season’s shift.

Started a pot of soup at 11AM… and found myself writing about it at 11PM. Funny how the simplest things hold the deepest messages. Slow and low — in cooking, in life, in the seasons of becoming.

The in-between seasons have a way of stirring things up — that restless feeling when life slows down but your mind speeds up. I caught myself spiraling this week until I stopped and listened to what my body was quietly asking for: structure, hydration, simplicity. Maybe it doesn’t always have to be more. Maybe “enough” really can be enough.