Yes, You Are a Writer: A Message to the Seemingly Unattainable Goal + Why You Already Have Everything You Need to Attain It

I'm separating myself from the things I’ve written, occasionally allowing a scan through the words, picking up a few sentences here and there. Convincing myself that whatever emotions and experiences I was able to get through then, I wouldn’t be able too now. 

In a way, the person who wrote that doesn’t feel like me. Sure, if I allowed myself to read through I’d find a remarkable similarity, but at the present, I don’t. I sit at a distance, never giving myself the pleasure of getting to know the person at the other end.

Maybe I’ve told myself too many times that it’s an unattainable dream, to be a writer. 

Read More
Dropping the Expectations of 2018: Recounting Three Days of Anxiety Ridden Thoughts, a Shattered Projection, and Establishing Myself in the Wildness of Things

My hand moves beneath the glossy scene before me; fascinated by the reflection that blankets my body, one more clear than the soft glow of the candle sitting on the slippery ledge, I curl my hand upwards, and like a statue it holds steady, causing the glossy scene to give way to a harsher, more disturbed state. 

I feel that there is no comfortable way to say this. No clear, feather-like melody that I can project in order for you to understand, but go ahead, let us nod in agreement, because what else are we to do? 

The words I say don’t make sense to you, just as much as they don’t make sense to me; whatever it is I am looking for, cannot be salvaged from the eyes of another, I must take a deeper, longer, more intent look into my own, and even then it’s not guaranteed that I’ll be pleased with what I find, at least night right away. 

Satisfaction.

Content.

Security.

Comfort.

Read More
Let's Talk About Depression: A Birthday Turned Breakdown, Ambitions to Run 26 Miles, and Speaking Your Truth, No Matter Who's Listening

I cup the sunshine in my hands, tilting my fingers and palms forward and back while watching the shadows dance across my skin. 

It's the day after my birthday, I'm sporting puffy eyes and a tired and slow-moving demeanor. Thoughts are sluggish, each movement was taken with deliberate and careful consideration, while small practices of self-love stand in stark contrast to yesterday's affairs. 

Though I know I'm not going to be able to make sense of all this just yet, I knew from the moment tears started pouring down my face, that I would start this process by writing about the heaviness that posted up in my mind that day. For instance. Where did it come from? Was it an accumulation of present and past events all meeting at once? Maybe the expectations I've put on myself for the future, or simply, the reflections, both positive and more trying, that are paired with having taken another trip around the sun. 

With being a year older - a year wiser?

Read More
Where Inspiration Is Pulled From: A Holiday Guide to This Years Favorite Makers, Impactful Books, Adventures as a Gift, Why We Should Keep Sending Letters, and Ways in Which a Little Can Go a Long Way

My initial thought was to simply call this a Holiday Gift Guide, but for some reason, that alone just didn't feel right.

You see, I've been wanting to put together a collection of companies, people, books, activities, and what not, that have been part of my inspiration and creative process for the past long while. 

So as you read on, keep in mind that though some of these things cannot be physical gifts, they are just as, if not more important, lasting, and impactful. From the tools I use to pull myself out of a slump, to the novels, poems, and stories I get lost in, women to be inspired by, why we should keep sending letters, to the companies that make a point of supporting local artisans, makers, and those of us working our darndest to carve out a place in this world for our stories, 

While moving over to create even more room for you, you and you.

Read More
The Privilege in Sharing Our Story: Why I’m Allowing Myself to Feel Angry + What It Means to Be Heard When You’ve Lost the Ability to Use Your Voice

There usually comes a moment when I know, that that something, it’s going to be shared. Even if it’s simply a small fraction of the experience in full, it’s very much still there. 

It certainly doesn’t happen all at once. First, it settles, running deep through my veins, pulsing heavy in my thoughts, a ringing in my ears, a temptation against my lips - I feel it everywhere, pulling me this way and that. There is no way to rid myself of it, and sure, a few shakes could provide me with temporary peace of mind, but again, it comes back. 

A feeling that needs to be set free in order to fill its deed.

Read More
Finding Validation In Your Experiences: Why It's Taken Me 15 Years to Not Just Trust in Myself, but be My Own Best Advocate

I sit here, fingers tapping the 99 cent notebook I just purchased, a victory as it mean't more ideas took up the pages of another, I begin to stir in my thoughts and wonder if this feeling of groundless-ness has anything to do with my inability to make any semblance of a routine right now.

First, these posts take on the form of words, like validation, worthiness, advocate, best self, all scribbled onto a piece of paper until something comes together and makes some kind of sense. Usually, they come to me as I'm leaving an appointment, picking out new tea at the local grocers, having a conversation with a good friend, or sometimes, if I'm really lucky, as I am armed and ready with a pen and notebook in hand. 

Read More