It’s impossible to capture. No words or photographs do it justice. You have to be there, standing alone at dusk on a rocky trail as the mountains become spooky silhouettes against a sky that turns a new shade of purple every twenty seconds.
That’s when it sinks in. The feeling of everything being important and meaningless at the same time. It’s one of my favorites. Like how staring into the Milky Way long enough makes me believe I am capable of anything because ultimately I’m a tiny speck in space and time and I’m truly insignificant.
The permission that comes from feeling insignificant is powerful fuel. No fear. No ego. No worries and what ifs. Pure possibility. It’s comforting, really. Cozy insignificance.
That’s the feeling that coursed through my body for the entirety of my time in Sedona. But when people ask, “How was Sedona?” I smile and simply say, “Really nice.”
It’s easier than trying to explain cozy insignificance.
Maybe it was the whole spiritual vortex thing. Maybe it was dehydration and too … Read the rest
I didn’t forget about you. I know I’ve got like five more things to write. I’m struggling with my creativity right now. Things have been hard and I’m challenged by how to write from an authentic place. And while I know it can be powerful to write from a place of vulnerability and candor, I’m not there yet.
Earlier this year, my creativity was at an all-time high. Ideas came faster than I knew how to manage them. And now I struggle to connect with that piece of myself. To put it mildly, it’s bumming me out.
I shared this frustration with one of my besties and he described creativity as a “calorie in/calorie out” situation. It resonated. I’m not in a space where I have enough creative calories coming in to produce any output. My body is trying to be smart about where to send my calories and I’m running a deficit. I’m losing creative weight. My creative spark is still there, but it looks more like a weak flicker on a breezy day. … Read the rest
Last summer, an acquaintance connected me with a woman named Leslie and assured me she’s someone I need to know. Since she lived a state away, we arranged a standard networking phone call. Within a few short minutes, it became apparent we had more than our work in common.
Fast forward one year (exactly one year to the day that this acquaintance gave me her name), and I finally met her in person.
You know that feeling when you meet someone and you’re certain you’ve been friends for ages? There are people from whom you can physically feel a gravitational pull. It was that. We spoke the same language. We talked about signs from the universe and our sensitivity to energies around us. We shared our love of Sedona and the pivotal experiences we had there. We shared our big dreams and nudged each other to tackle the next steps. It was one of the most inspiring and affirming meet-ups I’ve had.
Not to mention, it was a perfectly timed meeting. It’s no secret … Read the rest
I was shopping for a notebook recently. I’m very particular about notebooks and journals, and it can take weeks before I commit. Plus, now there are all these notebooks with cutesy slogans on the cover about “slaying” things or following your dreams or similarly empowering crap. I avoid notebooks with words on the cover.
However, I stumbled upon one that made me reconsider my distaste for cover slogans. The statement is simple. It’s one I’ve always loved, but often forget about – “Remember why you started.”
It’s the kick in the pants I need to keep going. “Keeping going” is not one of my strong suits. I’ve taken enough strength assessments to know my sweet spot is dreaming ideas and imagining all the directions they can go. I love learning the best path forward and putting plans into action. But when the shine wears off, I’m eager to start the next thing.
Is it a coincidence that I’m writing about this as I’ve passed the deadline on “My 39 Things,” and am several posts away … Read the rest
Remember when your parents turned 40? Didn’t that seem old? I remember being in middle school when my dad had a surprise party for his fortieth. I recall black decorations featuring the grim reaper and “over the hill” balloons.
Forty was adult. Forty-year-olds had their shit together. They had tax accountants and garages full of power tools. Also, my dad had a middle-school-aged daughter when he turned forty. I have a Meyer Lemon tree that might be dying and a dog that barfed unidentifiable blue pieces of plastic this morning.
Regardless of whether you’re responsible for a fruit tree or a human, turning forty is an achievement. A good portion of my 30s was spent dreading the fact I was aging. And now I’m just thrilled to be here. To be healthy and strong. To have a smile lines. To turn a year older.
You only turn forty once and I wanted to be flashy, flossy and over the top. This is not my style. I’m more of a “save your pennies” kind of girl. … Read the rest
It had been weeks since I touched my tarot cards. They sit on my bedside table, along with hippy-dippy accoutrements and books I flip through before I fall asleep – ones about yoga, tarot, chakras, angels and the like. Things that are generally met with a polite, cynical smile from my huzzbot on the other side of the bed.
I know it isn’t for everyone. But I’ve long been a believer that the universe gives us signs. There are times when the universe whispers. I catch it on the breeze and let it flutter away. But after ignoring its whispers for long enough, the universe sits on my shoulder and screams in my ear.
When I hear the screams, feel transitional shifts in my life, or notice an unusually high number of coincidences around me, I make a point to get a tarot reading. Tarot helps me align the cues spinning around me with something more tangible. It validates the signs and gives them structure.