the great unraveling  

I feel happy today. The kind of well-used-in-service kind of happy. I don’t take this lightly as the passage to arrive here has been…well like being held under a wave for far too long not knowing which direction had air. That was part of this great unraveling, that has perhaps been my life, but more recently it’s felt like the surrender to my life. Giving up the fight inside myself to show up and be something that someone or culture demanded from me.

This kind of unraveling is messy. It demands all of me, all my attention and willingness to be uncomfortable and witnessed. Connection with others eases the sharp edges and helps remind me that I’m loved. I have actually been waking up from the deepest sleep and the first words that rise are, “I love you.” it feels so simple as it occurs, but still so new that once I’m fully conscious I marvel at the miracle of that. A sweet moment with myself where there is no other or expectation or identity. Just that sweet moment of loving and being loved.

As I soften into the great unraveling I feel more innocent and curious. I am having needs and desires arise and nearly instantly they are fulfilled, many without having to open my mouth to ask for it. I’m asking for help in the moments I feel stuck. I pick up the phone when I think of someone and make connection.

It’s getting to be playful even. 

I have a level of trust I have never known before and my life is becoming more abundant than I ever imagined. And, I know there is more to open to and receive. I feel willing. I am able to utilize my cosmic gymnastics to slow down enough to be where I am, rather than beating myself up for not being somewhere else, to actually enjoy the great unraveling.

This is new. All of this is new to me. I leave tomorrow for Costa Rica for a deep dive into more of me.

Thank you for everything and more please.



let love

I celebrated my 53rd birthday just over a week ago. I hosted a dinner party for a few friends at a lovely housesit I was in the midst of. I started cooking the day before and felt a lot of irritation and energy moving through me thinking, “why I am doing this by myself?” I had the intention of not being alone during the holidays and my birthday, but here I was alone for nearly 3 weeks in a huge beautiful house.

I actually wasn’t alone I had two lovely older dogs and a cat named Tarzan to keep me company. But the voice in my head was anxious and dissatisfied, the one that has an idea of how things “should” be. As the day went on nearing the arrival of my guests the irritation intensified and it wasn’t until several people had arrived that I began to let the love in.

I felt a sense of connection and being seen that I was longing for. A depth of reflection and care that was the nourishment I felt I’d been missing, but obviously was always there. I let myself ask for what I wanted, ask questions and let myself receive all of this love fully and see how it uplifted us all to have that connection.

A few days later I got sick and was forced to slow down and listen. I had many plans for this first week of the new year like completing undone tasks and preparing for my upcoming trip to Louisville that came to be very quickly on an intuitive knowing. 

I am humbled by this life. Grateful for those who see and love me and those I get the honor of being in service to. It is feeling more and more like a free fall, adjusting in motion, staying connected in the ways I’m able to and letting love lead me.

I just heard a flock of geese flying over head and it reminded me of Mary Oliver’s poem Wild Geese with the line “Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again.”

My beautiful mother, a self-proclaimed atheist, just reminded me of this bible quote after proofreading this post for me, "Therefore I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they will be granted you.”

Happy new year, may we be willing to receive what we desire and already have.



I am returning to a place in my life where so much of me came alive for the first time.
In my late 20s I followed my intuition everywhere. I swam with dolphins in the Bahamas where I was sonar-ed from head to toe by my new friends. I gathered with people who aligned more with the stars than earth, feeling a deep sense of welcome and home in Mt. Shasta. I found my way to the Big Island of Hawaii where I lived off-grid in community, began my meditation practice in earnest, learned to wield a machete to open as many young coconuts as I could find.
I am back on the Big Island after 18 years. As I flew in over the ocean and saw land my heart leapt with a joy I hadn’t felt in as many years since I’d been here last. It’s a feeling of belonging and simple joy. It was the 90s, before the inundation of technology. I had a computer, but it wasn’t the focus of each day. It was a tool. The focus of my days was connecting with my inner world, connection with my ever-changing environment that Hawaii brings and connecting with the people around me in real time. 
A deep sweetness was planted in me that until I landed here, I had remembered only in longing memories.
This past couple of years have been the most intense and stressful of my life. I lost my beautiful father. I got married to Gary, I got fired from an all consuming job I had taken, supported Gary through brain surgery, separated from Gary, packed up my car with all my belonging and drove from Kentucky to my parents in California where they lovingly gave me space to grieve. I experienced a level of depression I had only supported clients through. 
The immense kindness of friends and family has shown me that I am supported and loved. It has humbled me in a way that only life can, in real time. 
I have emerged through this more available and deeply empathetic for those in transition and stress. My work has changed. It’s more precise and clear. 
I have been giving sessions over this past year, but only the few I carried with me from a distance. Louisville had been my home for nearly 10 years. I have grieved my relationship, my in-person business, the community, nature and home that I felt there. I miss it.
So, when I felt the home-coming of the Big Island, I was sweetly reminded that other places have my heart, too, and that I will feel that sense of home again. 
For now, and I imagine always, I will keep following my intuitive leads and see where and with whom I find myself. But I am finding home within myself in a way I never have before. I am grateful for all of it. 
I am ready to serve in a much larger way.



what happens now?

what happens now? 

All the moving toward something, someone, somewhere just stops. What now? It feels like the end of a chase scene but there’s no outcome, no resolution that is obvious or quick. It’s merely a ceasing of looking for the next thing. Anticlimactic. A slowing down, going within more deeply, as there is no shiny object calling my attention. 

It’s ordinary and routine. Making tea in the same pot. Opening the same blinds each morning. Hearing the same birdsong. There is nothing new.

But I am noticing there is an intimacy available that comes with the staying. It is a similar quality that I have known over decades of meditation. The terrain becomes more nuanced. The space inside has taken on variations and the ability to stay out of the extreme places in my mind is more common these days. 

Perhaps this is what is happening now… a deeper intimacy that requires repetition and willingness to stay. Not always be on the way to somewhere else. To bring my whole attention to where I am and love fully from here? Nothing more needed to allow myself out to shine in the everyday ordinary moments. To be ready for the inevitable changes but not need to create a mountain to climb, but instead to climb the ones that are already here. Perhaps that is what’s happening now?


being seen

I liken it to sharing only the photos where I look good, I don’t want to be seen sometimes. I feel withdrawn, unsure, unloveable. And so I wait it out. Cleaning the house. Balancing my financial accounts. Taking baths. Connecting in ways that I feel capable of. But waiting to be seen until I look and feel good seems like a waste of precious moments.

So, what is it I don’t want you to see exactly?

Perhaps that I am very human. Messy. Out of sorts sometimes?

When I am giving my full attention to another person, as I do in my work, there is no resistance to showing up and being seen. It’s when I’ve got too much time to think, not enough people to connect with that seems to be when the disconnect with myself begins.

So, the antidote is just show up here and now just as I am. Eyes still a bit puffy from crying, grief still running through from my Dad’s passing earlier this year and still learning how to lean into life when I want to hide.

It’s raining here in Louisville today. I love the rain. Any weather changes really as growing up in Southern California was so full of sunny days that snow and wind and rain are still child-like delights for me.

I’m here. I’m ready for more clients. I have a lot to give right now.