Radiating Joy, crapping on complaining and becoming a recklessly rich woman


I am radiating joy.

Radiating joy because I have given up am giving up complaints and am giving myself what I need.

Such an obvious path to joy, but one I was walking right by.

At 2 o’clock today we will receive some news.

News that should diminish my joy and tailspin me into worry.

News that I expect to be the last big shift of the year.

Expected news in an intuitive, wind-carried-it-kind-of-way.

Feeling it coming. Calling it to come.

A delivery from life that you ordered in a heart touchstone kind of way.

It, coupled with the my changing relationship of motherhood, changing relationship to friends and family, and changing relationship to home and town, feels like the curtain is being closed on one act of my life and preparing to open for the next.


I’ve been cutting and unraveling the threads of my life all year long.

These mornings of writing I have been giving gifting myself are doing something to me I can’t find a word to describe.

I feel every cell of me buffering its edges and preparing to hold space for everything that is changing and is coming.

I share so much of myself in this space.

We all long to be seen, and I think sharing here allows me to better see myself and what I am going through.

But we all have parts of ourselves we don’t see and we don’t share.

Journaling each and every morning is revealing myself to me. It’s reflecting my world and giving me space to see things as they are. It is showing me my inner tapestry and weaving it with the magic that life is. (I am so excited to welcome six ladies to join me in this work this winter…!)

My life feels pregnant with divine timing right now.

Life hands us what we’ve been asking for and preparing for, but are too scared to cross over to.

I feel my trust, playfulness and pleasure expanding. I am exploring the richness of myself.

With a skip in my step, and a strength to face what’s to come,

falan sig


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Self Care Supreme/Holding Space for my Loneliness


I feel lonely for myself lately.

The whole family just drove away.

One quick errand and they’ll return in 20 minutes.

I open the computer to share my thoughts, balancing the teeter totter of freedom and uncomfortable.

Space always feels new to me.

I’ve shared, many times, my devotion to motherhood.

Quiet and space have not come easy, or often, in these past (nearly a) dozen years.

Quiet and space have always been intertwined with fear for me.

For example, as I type this, everyone who truly matters to me is in a car right now.

Running a simple errand.

Am I the only one who wonders what if they didn’t make it home?

Fear because I don’t want to miss out or fuck up the most important role my life will ever lead.

Guilt because my worth has been entangled, since the dawn of adulthood, with the role of ‘Mother’, and anytime I’m on my own I am not yet sure who I am.


I feel lonely for myself lately.

I’m supposed to love alone time, right?

I do. I really do. I come alive in the quiet like a wolf travels the night.

My ritual for as long as my memory wanders is that I’ve found space nearly every night after the house has fallen asleep.

I think this longing for me is creeping in only as a natural loneliness unfolds in my life.

I moved recently and friend connection feels lost, as I navigate what energy a new home requires.

My relationship to my Mom feels lost, for now, and I carry the pain, anger and loss heavily.

My children are stretching their arms and legs wide to the seasons of life and I am no longer interwoven in a sticky web of breast milk, hormonal havoc and a need waiting to be filled every moment of my day. I feel very lost with this one, because I never imagined life beyond that most beautiful sticky web.


I am lonely for me lately because there is space to wonder who I am, with so much less reflecting or defining who I am.

I have recently found a way to touch that lonely me and give her space to find herself.


Space and the old clichéd need for self care.

You know, I kind of want to turn my nose up even using the words ‘self care’. It’s a bit used up like a dirty sock, eh?

But what else should I call it?

Rather than ride the waves of the late hours, I’ve been turning in a bit earlier and claiming space for myself upon waking.

I tell the kids that I’ll be out after I finish writing.

I close the door to my room and they (mostly) respect it. The older two, that is. The littlest one finds a half dozen reasons to talk to me. But that’s okay. I’m confident with time she’ll understand too.

I listen to them break out our newest board game, argue over who needs to take the dog out in the cold, or welcome the silence of their trio selves reading on the couch.

I eat up the time, logging my fertility, snipping my dreams onto paper and rambling out my heart faster than my hand can keep up.

Transforming while I drink hot herbal tea and tend to my womb and heart.

And bump up against guilt.

And ride the joy of showing my kids how to give yourself just what you need.

It has made ‘self care’ oh so sexy.

And it feels really naughty.

Lonely for myself and I am giving her space and time.


Space calls to me like the waves of the sea.

And I am answering this calling a wee bit.

It’s as if, each morning, I am saying that I matter.

I matter and it is okay to decide to start my day with a slice of space for me.

My loneliness matters and it’s my job to greet the longing with the chance to really see myself through the pages of my journals.

We matter in ways we’d never give ourselves credit, recognition or gratitude for.

Our value is often lived through the love we give to others.

These morning minutes are lighting little fires of reminders about my worth and my well being.

It is rippling out into the rest of the day, when I am full and cared for.

It’s true that if we don’t hold space for ourselves, no one else will.

It is true that if we don’t meet our own needs we cannot lovingly meet the needs of those we love the most.

Reflect upon your space and see how much you have.

See what you need.

Find it.

Find it when the night turns dark and loved ones sleep.

Find it by honoring the growing of your littles who are now old enough to allow it.

Find it when your milk drunken wee one naps.

Find it upon waking or right before bed.

Find it because you are worth it.

Find it because befriending yourself means as we embrace self love (eh, another dirty sock word) we have more love to give.

buckets of love,

falan sig


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Creation over consumption & arousing your pelvis (with optional challenge)


Five years ago.

We lived real rural, I was plump with a nine plus pounder inside of me and spent each morning devouring handfuls of ripe berries that surrounded the little passive solar home we rented.

We had dial up internet, a prepaid cell phone and a landline phone.

The main sounds were the critters, the creeks, and the range of music that sound tracked our home.

This marked life, for me, before I really stepped into the online world.

Soon after, we moved back into town and welcomed high speed internet. A couple years later I surrendered to an iPhone

During this time, I welcomed the world of blogs and started my own.

You may be laughing, because quite clearing I am far behind the times.

Yet, it was all so intentional.


At this point, I fully embrace the incredible resource and profound capabilities that the internet is and offers.

At this point, I am back out in the country with the critters and wide sky, but I’ve kept the high speed internet and the iPhone.

Still, I am stinker for protecting our lives from too much consumption.

Still, I am a massive believer in the sacredness of simplicity and I live it as fully as I can.

We live in a tricky time, where we are saturated in consumption. With the flick of a finger you can peek into the lives of others, seek a recipe, find the answer to your kids crazy question, earn an income doing something you love, and Skype with someone miles and miles away.

That’s an amazing tool not to be reckoned with.

Or is it?

Because on the other side of that coin, with the flick of a finger, you can procrastinate your day away, ignore the warmth and love sitting next to you, miss the chance to lie in a hammock while the sun centers the sky, feed your lying unworthiness, and spend a whole day without creating.



Creation happens when your hands move to express your heart.

Women are powerhouse creators, as their pelvis holds the creation of life and all the energy they need to create any ole thing.

Creativity activates this pelvic energy, arousing it & creating more of it.

Kind of like the more sex you have the more you want.

Creativity soothes overwhelm (as it nurtures your innate desire to create), puts you in touch with yourself , grows joy, and sends you to bed with a feeling of fullness.



Consumption happens when we consume something.

Hungry for more we get addicted to ingesting the world outside of us.

Consumption often steals intuition (as you can lose touch with it when you never sit with it), promotes procrastination (where the hell did those three hours go?!), and breeds ‘not good enough’ (hello hot pool of comparison).

Obviously nothing is so black and white, and we all know consumption isn’t only bad.

However, the point I am making – in this very round about way – is to choose creation over consumption first.

Make something, do something. write something, cook something, paint something.

Always before you look at something, read something, reply to something or watch something.


Want to challenge yourself?

For one week?

You must create before you consume, every day.

Wanna go hard core? Give up consumption entirely for one week.

See the magic of you reappear in a world that ice buckets you with the world of everyone else.

Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Emails, Blogs, Podcasts, Magazine, Books, Newpapers, TV, Movies…

What about YOU?

When’s the last time you shut everyone and everything else out long enough to remember what it’s like to know yourself?

I promise, the world can (and will!) wait.

Loads and loads of love, and lingering full moon magic,

falan sig


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Choice and the world can wait.


“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans” -John Lennon

The world can wait.

When we are living lives, free of fresh trauma, daily health concerns, terminal illness and/or shattering pain, we need to realize how flexible, how malleable our lives truly our in each moment.

How much choice we truly have.

Really, choice remains regardless of our circumstances.

But we often fail to realize how much we take our choice for granted when we don’t have an overwhelming situation guiding our every move and choice.

Understanding that choice changes everything.

When we can shadow our lives just long enough to see how incredible choice is, how magical freedom is, how blessed our lives really are, then we understand that the world can wait.

The world can wait on you to answer the flood of emails while you soak your feet in an Epsom herbal bath & paint your toenails black.

The world can wait for you to tidy up the kitchen while you run around in the dark, under the waxing moon, with your kids.

The world can wait for you to read a tangible, pageable book while you shut down the electromagnetic waves of your smartphone/laptop for awhile.

To live your life instead of peeking into the lives of others far too often.

The world can wait while you step outside, snuggle a loved one or take a nap.

The world can wait for you to live your life instead of meeting the demands of everyone else’s life.

Instead of you warming your worth by what you do.

The world can wait for your while you choose wants over ‘shoulds’.

The world will wait for you to self nourish yourself because nourishing yourself is actually the least selfish thing you can do.


Sometimes life can make you feel like a bursting abdomen that ate far too much bread.

There’s so much freaking stuff we want to do, need to do, desire to do…

Our lives are insanely full, even if most of that fullness lives in our heads and hearts.

Our lives thread along the seam of fragility.

Our time is not infinite in the form we live within now.

We must walk the razors edge of now and later, priority and postpone, this or that.

It’s hard.

The world can wait.

But our lives won’t.


We must learn to navigate this tricky threshold and choose between what matters now and what can wait.

Here’s a lil’ thing I’ve taken on from the classic The Artist’s Way to help pilot the things I know can wait; yet, don’t want to be dismissed.

The God’s Got It file.

Now, before you let your panties slide up your butt thinking I’ve gone religious here on my blog, I haven’t. Not even a dollop.

Yet, I believe fully in the power of something much larger than myself, in the governing force of life, God’s and Goddesses, feminine and masculine, energy, magic, serendipity, diving timing, divinity, spirit, soul…

I believe.

The God’s Got It file is the place on my desk that holds all my random bits of paper and index cards with the eons of thoughts that pass through this eager and dreamy mind of mine.

I put it there, I let it go, I trust, I let the world hold it.

The world will wait for us to get to it.

But it won’t wait for us to live our lives now.

Happy Samhain & Happy Halloween,

falan sig



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Claiming my sensitive, shattering ‘shoulds’ and leaving a crack for joy


We live by the sun, we feel by the moon

I was moved by the number of ladies who showed up in my inbox after last weeks post, sharing a resonation with the feelings I seem to be moving through lately.

I see that I’ve carried sensitivity since I was a child; yet, I also see a tremendous freshness of it over this past year. It’s as if the parameter of my heart was peeled smoothly with a potato peeler.

I know part of this has to do with the bleep-er of an awakening I went through early this year. Another part of it feels like lost footing as I transition from a much needed Mother (creating, nursing and holding littles close) to a Mom with three kids fending more and more for themselves.

What’s interesting is that I’m a ridiculously spunky person. Just a few hours ago, I was cooking up dinner while jamming to 90’s skating rink music like a goofball, followed by dinner convo of butts and turds and all that jazz.

But words seem to flow from me here mostly when softness and mulling is lingering.


We are complex beings and I want my internet home to show my own complexity. In a world of internet saturation and peeks into what feels like perfect lives, I want to show you that I am real. Very real.

I want you to accept your realness too.

Whoever we are, let’s be who we are.

I get roused up when life makes us think we should feel the same all the time. The seasons live within us and we are turned inside out by our experiences in life, our relationships with others and with ourselves, loss, the melancholy of Fall, astrological and lunar shifts and tremendous amounts of more…

I want us to all be okay with where we are. With who we are.

To be okay; always leaving a crack for joy to sneak through.

Right now my joy is sneaking in in one very simple way.

To choose want over should as much as possible.

Should seems like an appropriate suffix for all of us. It’s rather wild how much we take on and act on because we should.

It’s sad how often we do the shoulds before the wants, somehow assured that the shoulds are more important than the wants, or that we don’t deserve the wants without finishing up the shoulds.

The truth is; however, that the shoulds are never done and when we choose a day of shoulds we don’t have anything left over for our wants.

Then resentment swallows joy.

Yet, when we choose the wants and honor the sacred request of what calls to us we create joy. That joy feeds our energy & our time to serve our shoulds that are actually needs, or to finally let go of the shoulds that should are ready to be shattered.

new moon love,

falan sig


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Vulnerablity, inadequacy and truth telling

anaisninI often feel like I wait too long to show up in this space.

I feel like I teeter in between this place of wanting to be seen and wanting no one to see me.

Don’t we all?

Sometimes I think to myself, “who the hell wants to read my personal ramblings?” fallleaves

Fall feels as though she went through my spice cabinet and sprinkled herself with cumin, turmeric, cayenne and the like to warm the seasons coolness.

Driving into town last week I felt a twinge of grief in the air, knowing Fall would pass far too soon.

Life feels mixed grief, the lingering playfulness of yesterday’s dream, the crispness of the Autumn air and the comfort of weekend lovemaking.

gigi This past week we lost a dear matriarch, our Gigi. She died beautifully and lived beautifully.

We recently lost three chickens to these country woods.

Last week many women held space for National infant and pregnancy loss awareness day. So many of us have experienced this type of loss. I recently shared some heart-full thoughts on miscarriage in SQUAT Birth Journal. You can view the pdf of the magazine for free here.

lakeeden I spent a past weekend at the Southeast Wise Women Herbal Conference. Again, I came home early Saturday night, as the distance from family is too much for me and my crew.

I find myself unable to hold space for all the energy there. I like my safe cocoon of home.

There’s so much wisdom that I almost feel too full when I leave.

Yet, it unlocks more about me each time I go.

I spent nearly the entire Death and Dying class with goosebumps. Surprisingly, it was one of the classes I looked forward to the most. A little unknown fact about me is I am drawn to death and spend a decent amount of my reading time in books that highlight loss, and in thoughts that inspire presence because of inevitable loss. An interest in volunteering at Hospice has sat with me for while and this class concluded that I am being called to serve with and/or prepare for death.

Taking the intensive with Rosita Arvigo was a long held wish of mine. Here, I sat reminded of the incredible power of our wombs and inspired to expand my She Cycles course with more lushness of the uterus. And quite honestly, it inspired me to perhaps tell one of my truths of why I created the course in the first place. Something I’m quite unsure if I’m ready to tell.

I forest bathed, listened to the beautiful Aviva Romm talk about yoni’s, soaked up comfort in the stones class for empaths, listened to the sweet Emily Ruff talk Sacred Science, and absorbed Robin Rose Bennett’s humble talk on moon magic and women’s health.

sunrise I’m feeling a very personal loss myself in this phase of my life. A quiet almost unmentioned loss.

I am getting lost in the pages of my journal. Un-layering, unraveling, unearthing what is deeper than what I show.

I’m confused because I’m far more goofy and playful than my writings ever reveal.

I keep wondering when I am going to regain my social interest that seems to have vanished this past Winter.

I’ve been thinking much about how we take for granted what we have and want what we don’t have.

I’ve been watching synchronicity magic up my life lately, reminding me that I am uncovering the right path.

I am taking an internet consumption break. I dislike the disconnect of myself I feel when I hear too much of others.

I’ve been facing my own inadequacy lately. Watching where my worth is validated.

Vulnerability is such a tough and beautiful thing. A critical thing.

Life keeps calling me to tell you more of my truth. Truth I already know and truth I am discovering.

It’s scary.

caramelapplesWith vulnerability in mind and our desire as women to be seen and to not be seen, I am opening a virtual circle this Winter for those of us who want to explore this part of ourselves, to uncover the truths we keep hidden. So many of you have expressed the wish that my She Cycles course offered a deeper way of connection with me and the other women taking it. This circle and the expanding She Cycles will offer a bit of this connection. xx

With wishes to share a cup of hot cocoa with you,

falan sig


And for the sheer sake of it, a couple videos that share a bit of the recent soundtrack around our home.

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Transitions and a tribute to my body


My current life began in August.

We bought our home, I stepped into a new pain of forgiving, and a week later my littlest quit breastfeeding.

In this moment, I want to step within a door that is now closed.

She didn’t nurse before bed for about a week and I danced around the sporadic tears that would show up when I thought about the closing of this part of me.

And then, she was upset one evening and asked to nurse. Grateful for this last chance, I sat on the edge of my bed, scooped her into my arms and nursed her knowing it was the very last time.

Her last time.

My last time.

She hugged my breasts goodbye (an unspoken knowing in her too) and I softly cried at the profoundness of the moment.


Tears sting my eyes as I share this moment with you.

You see, I was 19 years old when I chose motherhood. Consciously chose to welcome life, and expand love, between the love of Josh and I.

I had no no no idea what that would mean for us, for me.

I didn’t know that it would be motherhood that would define me, shape me, make me.

A dozen years in and I have spent ALL of it pregnant, nursing or both. I have held babies and toddlers to my breast for 10 and half years total.

Five pregnancies. A bed birth, a water birth and a floor birth. Two miscarried births.

Hormonal havoc, oxytocin rushes, mama lioness, mama weakness, stretched belly, soft skinned breasts, blood, milk, tears, spirit, deep deep joy and deep deep blues.

For the first time in twelve and a half years I am not pregnant and I am not breastfeeding.

to mom

As women, our breasts, our hands and our mouths are connected to our hearts and serve those we love.

My breasts may be done but I’ll always serve with my heart and hands.

With a part of me who thought I’d never want to be done with babies and with a part of me that now loves what this means for the relationship with myself and my husband, I am transitioning.

Behind the door lies a tremendous part of my identity. One I’ve always been greatly attached to and scared to distance myself from.

For this reason, it’s not easy to gather words to express this transition.

It’s fluid and natural and feels just so. It’s hung up in my heart waiting for me to fully celebrate, acknowledge and sweetly close the door on what has been the most important, profound and sincerest part of my life.

When all you got are words and you want to set your heart ablaze with your story, but it doesn’t seem enough…this is what I have in this moment.


falan sig



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Four (and more) ways to enjoy Fall

photo 5

The Autumnal Equinox is here and with that the season has turned to my favorite time of year.

I spent the morning outside, eating breakfast with the kids, drinking oatstraw tea, absorbing the cool morning air, listing the things we most look forward to during Fall and wishing I could bottle the essence of my joy up.

I wanted to share four things that can help you and I to fully enjoy this season (other than the obvious goodness in the photo above).

photo 4

Reflection. With Fall’s seasonal turn it’s the perfect time for reflection. This is the time of year to turn inward, slow down and reflect on our lives.

With the Equinox (for those enjoying the Vernal (Spring) Equinox too) nature is revealing a balance on this very magical day. Night and Day are balanced, and from this day forward our nights will become longer and longer until we reach the longest night of the year (the Winter Solstice).

Today’s balance of Mama Earth offers the space to reflect on balance in our own lives.

I don’t believe in balance in our masculine-driven-society-kind-of-way. But I certainly believe in the balance nature so beautifully reveals to us. The balance that each season gorgeously guides our lives through, ultimately making space for the seasons within us to be lived out.

Today is the day to take note of what in your life feels out of balance. Reflect on the last few months of Summer and set an intention of what you’d like to foster more of this Fall.

photo 3

Letting go. With all seasonal shifts, I believe it’s a time to release. To let go and make space for the new.

I like to physically burn something to symbolize this letting go, such as old journal pages, filled with sadness, confusion and longings I’m ready to dissolve. For those who believe burning your journal pages is naughty, you can journal a ‘letting go’ page in your journal to keep, or on a single page of paper so you can burn it alone.

photo 2

Nature. Each season offers us the cyclical magic of nature. With Fall, it’s time to welcome death to the parts of your life that need letting go, while you watch it reflected in Mother Nature’s letting go of leaves.

Open your windows each morning and feel the soft coolness of the earth that encourages you to soften and slow your life. Enjoy evening walks, hang a hammock, and take tons of hikes.

photo 1

Warmth. Break out the crochet blankets, draping them on the bed, a corner chair, the couch and a porch bench. Spend the cool evenings warming yourself with soups, roasted root veggies, decadent hot chocolate and hot tea.

Warm your body and your spirit.

Wishing you a beautiful Autumn. Please tell me, in the comments below, what beauty you’re looking forward to this season.


falan sig



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Let life unfold


I get quiet in this space when there’s much going on and when I feel like there’s too much to say.

Oftentimes this is why I’m writing as I’m coming “out” of some sort of introversion.

We bought a home earlier this month after what felt like eons of seeking our homestead.

It’s been a uprooting of one rhythm to another and a pivotal moment in our lives that has shaken up what’s familiar & is giving us the courage to be honest with ourselves.

photo 1

Having been raised by a very logical mother and a very faithful father I feel both parts of these strongly in myself.

I trust the divineness of life, truly believe everything happens for a reason & have taken tons of leaps of faith, and, yet, sometimes I want to figure things out so badly and know exactly how things will look.

photo 3

But that steals the magic of life, does it not?

A few months ago I read The Not So Big Life.

As a lover of simplicity, I seek it and I sow it; however, I can crazy up the simple sometimes too.

This book presents something I live by on many levels, but that I wasn’t (and am not) fully living.

It’s this concept that we simply need to do just what is in front of us and life itself will present the next step.

The OCD tendencies (of mine) that have hung around since childhood have been watered down by the rain of life, but their seeds still want to sprout at times.

Sometimes for me it can be really hard to just need to know the next step. I often want a ten step plan that leads right to how I envision things.

But it feels like honey in my heart to give myself permission to only need to know the next step.

So I practice.

And I welcome you to too.

photo 2

Let’s trust in the beautiful unfolding of life that will happen no matter how we face it. Let’s not slice into this unfolding with the sharp edge of our pen and demand a step by step outline of exactness.

That’s boring.

Let’s trust that when we have an end in mind and we do each very thing that is in front of us, we will reach that end. Often times in ways we could never foresee, as life’s river flows freely when we stop trying to redirect its path.

With warmth,

falan sig



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Crazy days, New beginnings, Crying and Bookending your days with ritual

photo 1

We are energetic beings with an infinite capacity of spirit and a finite capacity of humanness.

Our lives can be only so full while we walk the earth.

How many times have I written of the threadbare line between the chaos and the beautiful of life?

It fascinates me.

Right now I am standing in the river that separates endings and beginnings.

Sometimes it feels every day, and even every moment, something ends and something begins.

And sometimes it’s so obvious that a long lasting part of life is ending and a new one is beginning.

Dreams are coming true in my life and I teeter back and forth between sheer thrill and practical tendings.

photo 2 (2)

This past year has been one hell of a year of healing for me. Astrologically it seems it was time.

Last June, a year ago, something happened in my life that broke off a piece of my heart that was barely holding on. Kind of like a rotting tooth that eventually caves in and crumbles.

Its been a year of forgiveness, of letting go and of releasing that came to an eruption this past winter.

And now it appears it’s my time for new beginnings.

I feel the zesty, spunky and playful side of myself emerging from the dark nights of my soul.

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But sometimes I feel like a skin of sensitivity.

I cry easily and often.

I cry a beautiful and truthful cry.

It wasn’t always this way. I’m certain I’ve always been sensitive; however, I lived a fair chunk of my life in control mode that kept tears mostly reserved for more serious situations.

But now I cry when my girls tackle the diving board, while I cut potatoes and listen to music that reminds me of when Josh and I first found love in each other, when I feel like life is too good too be real and too painful to bear.

I cry to release because I get overloaded. Even with a consciousness to keep life simple and meaningful, sometimes I get too full.

Two weeks ago tears were the only relief I could find.

I have found comfort in my ability to weep and tear and sob. Because tears are not meant to be stopped.

They release the excess you carry and wake you to the forgotten parts of yourself in this weathered world.

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So, the point I am making is life can be crazy. And absolutely beautiful.

The days can seep by as quickly as the earth soaks up the water after a hefty rain; leaving you feeling like a mix of drenched and heavy soil and as light as a rain dropped petal.

Crying helps.

And something else helps too.

Bookending (beginning and ending) your days with ritual and routine.


So that no matter what the day looks like in between, it began and ended with a nourishment and rhythm that was calm and beautiful.

Because the time before sleep and upon waking are close to a sacred realm we seem further from with the hustle of some days.

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Won’t you join me in beginning and ending your day with warmth?


Create something to go by.

Be flexible.

Never ridged.

Never ever include your smartphone.

Use beautiful things.

Never include anything out of healthy obligation.

Some days don’t follow it.


This is the typical current rhythm you’d find me in as I start and close my day. I’m always tweaking pieces of it. Of course all mornings are coupled with the company of my children – telling me of their dreams, snuggling, making requests, & of course some nights are coupled with the company of my love (though most of my evening ritual happens after the whole house sleeps). And some days nearly all of it goes to shit.

Night night,

falan sig



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