I believe in this simple equation: You + (trusting) your body’s deepest wisdom = Loving Yourself Well

Craving Simplicity

I have been living pretty non-stop for the last several months. I have created a rich and full existence, a life that I could never have imagined for myself when I was 25, living in a city that wasn’t me, doing work that wasn’t me. Quite honestly, I don’t even think I knew what being me meant.

Before the Memorial Day weekend, I realized that I hadn’t been making time for me so I purposely decided to make this weekend “Me Time.” Excited by this notion I began to write in my journal, brainstorming a list of things I haven’t done in ages like seeing a movie or going for a walk on the beach or reading a book cover to cover for pleasure. Anything that sounded like a way to indulge myself went on the list but something was being stirred up because as I wrote, this phrase unexpectedly came creeping into my mind and out of the end of my pen.

I am missing myself.


As I continued to write and the next phrase that came was

I crave simplicity.


I drew this small circle in the center of the page with the word me inside. Then I began to write down all of the commitments I have made, all of the deadlines to meet, all of the goals to work toward, all of the workshops that I have moved by, all of the dreams to explore, all of the important relationships to nurture, all of the individual parts that make up me, today, in this moment.

I was stunned by the sheer volume, by the density, by the intensity of my life. It became clear why I crave simplicity,

simplicity that means:

sleeping when my body is tired

drinking a mug of something warm

choosing to watch a sappy romantic comedy instead of reading something deep and meaningful

doing the leg work to feel prepared

being in the glorious, unglamorous moment

remembering to breathe

noticing how the silence is filled with the sounds of the wind rustling leaves and chimes

slowly eating and enjoying exactly what my body wants

realizing that there is a time and place for absolutely everything and I don’t have to do it all right now

taking the time to put pen to paper and just write.

Thwack on the Side of My Head


(found on an actual sign on an actual street in my actual neighborhood)

Does this just happen to me or do you find that sometimes the cosmos gently speaks to you and sometimes it simply thwacks you on the side of the head? My thwack came last week when I realized that in the last month or so not one, not two, but three women that I greatly admire and am constantly inspired by all have read poetry aloud from the same book entitled Risking Everything. I took the hint and bought a copy for myself and discovered this…

Love After Love by David Walcott

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Sigh, two poems into the collection and I am already grateful for the thwack.

Just Who Does She Think She Is…


This post is inspired by my lovely and courageous friend Kate (who took the photo above the day we met) and by way of introduction…

i am: standing on the brink of possibility

i think: i can do it all only to find out that i can’t (and often don’t really want to)

i know: i have gifts to give to the world

i want: to love and be loved deeply

i have: an enormous, opening heart

i dislike: when i curse at stupid drivers

i miss: my best friend

i fear: dreaming big

i feel: fear and excitement, often in equal measure

i hear: silence deeply

i smell: crisp, cool morning air

i crave: snuggling into waiting arms

i usually: have my nose in a book

i search: for deep, meaningful connection

i wonder: if i am giving enough, opening enough, sharing enough of myself with others

i regret: allowing myself to be treated less than i deserve

i love: my black keen boots

i care: more than i would like to admit

i am always: on time

i worry: that i am too much

i remember: lazy summer days feeding the ducks with my dad

i have: enough

i dance: to express my hidden side

i sing: to learn to be completely present

i don’t always: stay

i argue: when i feel i am unheard

i write: to clear my mind and begin again

i lose: myself more often than i would like to admit

i wish: i knew what happens next

i listen: before i speak

i don’t understand: people who don’t see each other

i can usually be found: in the cozy cottage

i am scared: to be open and vulnerable

i need: quiet time to fill my well

i forget: how deeply loved i truly am

i am happy: that most of my days are truly amazing

Now I invite you to share just who do you think you are.

Scenes From A Weekend

I spent a long weekend in the company of 19 amazingly creative women at the Angela Ritchie’s Ace Camp with Sabrina Ward Harrison. How do I begin to tell the story when there is so much filling my tender heart?

Let’s see, there was laughter shared, tears shed, and an incredibly funny and silly Skype moment. There were dear friends to hug…

and new friends to meet at the beautifully set dinner table where we were all warmly welcomed and held.

There were poems to be listened to with eyes closed, hearts cracking open. There were messes to be made and books to be created…

There was a three-story historic house to explore and falling pink petals to be captivated by.

There was tea to be drunk and inspiration to be had.

And in the end, we smiled and we let go and it was all secretly perfect!

Only One More Day

and I will be in Seattle meeting up with this ridiculously talented lovely, at a this weekend workshop offered by this inspiration. Can you hear me squealing with delight?