My bedside booklet Then I Woke Up: Dreaming with Mother Earth is now available for purchase! This 45-page booklet shares a series of six Earth-centric dreams I've received over the past few years. 

Hildegard of Bingen lived in 12th century Germany as a visionary, prophetess, poet, herbalist, angelic musician, Benedictine abbess, and mystic whose teachings, musical compositions, scientific discoveries, healing methods, and art remains relevant and revolutionary today. 

Last week, I went to breakfast with a new friend here in Colorado. On my walk over to meet up with her, I was reflecting on the upcoming series I'm facilitating called Doing Things Differently. A question present in my consciousness was – how can I speak to those who yearn to experience a fresh start yet are just … over it? Frozen over? Have already tried doing things differently only to end up in the same place, inside and out?

And so we begin a newly numbered year. I find there’s a quiet liminality to this time of year — an enchanting in-between that invites deepening intimacy with the space between stars, between thoughts, between milestone moments.

I’ve always considered myself a late bloomer. I believed in Santa Claus until 8th grade – and stopped only because my science teacher did a lecture before Christmas on why it's scientifically impossible for Santa to be real. It was supposed to be a fun and playful lecture before the holiday break and yet, I remember feeling completely deflated.

Awakening to a spiritual path can be like getting into a dream date relationship at first - there can be a honeymoon phase of all the doors opening, synchronistic signs galore, external encouragement that's like food for the ego's favorite story, “I'm doing this right! This must mean I'm on the right path.”

In the midst of this transformational era, I am called to share a short story with you on shedding skins and the medicine of the snake. There are some reflection questions to consider coupled with facts about snakeskin shedding I recently learned. Perhaps hearing this will help validate your experiences through changing times…

These past two weeks, my partner and I have been preparing to move on a much faster timeline than either of us anticipated. I have moved a lot in my life, and the thought of moving is usually more daunting than the move itself. I love to find ways to bring delight into the mundane moments of moving; little things like listening to playlists I love and imagining myself as a river flowing to a new destination help soften the intensity of uprooting to re-root.

This past week, I've experienced a bit of writer's block. When I've sat down to write, I've felt churning discomfort and an urge to focus on something else.

Over the years, I've learned that in order to hear, access, and receive my inner voice – the wise and curious core nature from which it feels like my writing flows – it's necessary to start where I'm at.

In a culture where left-brained logic rules systems, structures, thoughts, and ways of being, believing in fairies (let alone having a real, down-to-earth relationship with them) seems… well, way too out there. After childhood, there isn’t much encouragement or permission to lean into the imaginal, to the magical, to the streams of blessings that generously pour through intimacy with nature.

In the process of endings and beginnings, in the process of completing seasons and chapters and welcoming in new ones, we are like the meadow. There are parts of ourselves, our personalities, our ways of being, our imprints, and our lifestyle that come and go. There are parts of us that were never meant to move with us into the next season. There are parts of us that are meant to return to the Earth to decay into compost.

One evening nearly a decade ago, I found myself grappling with a decision I needed to make. My mind spun in endless circles, trying to strategize while straining to figure out: do I stay or do I go?

This past week, I had an opportunity to practice discernment in the midst of a synchronistic experience. This nuanced topic is near and dear to my heart because it reminds me of my wide-open hearted, rose-colored glasses wearing, sweet (and naïve) younger self who did not practice discernment in the face of synchronicity – which led me down many rabbit holes, some rewarding, others not so much.

What does it mean to grieve unlived lives and the “what ifs” in the midst of nourishing a heartfelt dream?

Before departing for a new experience (whether physically or in some other form), there's usually a moment where a part of me demands to know why did you ever agree to this???

There's a vulnerability to saying yes to a new experience, a new adventure, a new way of being with life. New experiences do not offer guarantees; and there can be a vulnerability to that because no one wants to waste precious resources or time.