How many times in in life, have I focused so hard on just getting to the “top” of whatever mountain I’m climbing. We convince ourselves that once we reach that summit, everything will feel clear. That’s when I’ll be happy. That’s when I’ll know what to do next. When I finish school. When I get married. When I have kids. When I go to yoga teacher training. When I leave my toxic job. When I launch my business. When I take that next vacation. But then you get there. And afte

I'm not musical. I can’t sing. I’m slow to learn, and it's too frustrating, so I shouldn't even try. These are things I've told myself. I have a memory of being 8 or 9 and my sister is yelling at me through the connecting wall of our bedrooms “shut-uppp my ears are bleeding”, as I belted out the lyrics to Jewel with all my heart. I recorded myself on a cassette tape and realized it sounded pretty bad. It became clear to me that you should only sing if you sound good. Years la

We hear it all the time “release what's no longer serving you” But what does it mean? Turns out, its not as simple as pushing a button and deleting a file. Then we think we’re doing it wrong because we’ve tried to let go of the same damn thing fifty times. Or we feel ashamed that an old wound resurfaces even after years of therapy, yoga, rituals, journaling, whatever. We assume letting go should be clean, instant, and linear… and when it’s not, we label ourselves as failure

There’s a story we’re told about womanhood. One that centers motherhood as the ultimate purpose, the highest expression of the feminine. But what happens when your life doesn’t follow that script? This piece is for the women walking a quieter, equally meaningful path.

The cycle of the seasons is only one of the cycles that impacts us, we also go through our own inner seasons. We’re taught to look outward — to track our pace by the world around us. But you have your own seasons, written in your human experience. And sometimes? They don’t match the calendar.

For those of us walking a spiritual path, living with intention isn’t just a nice idea—it’s how we stay connected to what really matters. Li

I used to feel like my inner witch and inner yogi were two aspects of myself that had to stay in their seperate compartments. But the deeper

Sometimes I fall into the trap of false belonging. I become a shapeshifter, a chameleon, trying to blend in with whatever group I find myself in. It's a survival tactic, called "masking". Maybe you’ve been there too: surrounded by people who seem to have it all figured out, silently decoding their unspoken rules, trying to contort yourself into their mold. Sometimes you become so good at masking you forget where the facade ends and you begin. But if you have to cut off part

This is a story about how I went to Norway, -though it could have been anywhere- and returned home changed. This is a story that really isn't a story at all, but a recalling of moments. It’s about how mourning is not just about losing someone who’s died, but about carrying all our losses with us as we continue to live. 

I have always been drawn to the esoteric and the magical threads that weave through life. In my younger years, I was drawn to things like the fae, tarot cards, magic spells, and exploring small patches of woods in my neighborhood. Somewhere in my late teens and early 20s, I shut it all off. I focused on being “normal” and dismissed my earlier “childish” interests so I would fit in with the crowd. In doing so, I locked away my belief in magic and with it, any chance of true sp

What if choosing solitude, withdrawing, forgoing the societal masks and costumes, just doing less of everything in general, meant nothing is wrong with you and everything was right? What if we tell ourselves “something is wrong” and these conditions match the symptoms of x, y, z because we've been conditioned to believe that?

I unknowingly stepped onto a possessed roller coaster ride. Well, kind of. I know this roller coaster well, it's pretty much the theme of my life. The inspired and creative highs, the dark and foggy lows, the sharp twists and sucker punching turns, the gnawing sensation in my belly, the hanging upside down screaming... Yup, that one.