Life has its own rhythm. There are seasons for creating, seasons for resting, and seasons for remembering. This week I found myself returning to the quiet wisdom that has been waiting within me all along.

When life hurts, where do you turn for comfort? This reflection explores the ways we seek relief, and what becomes possible when we discover the comfort waiting within us.

What if practicing death isn’t about dying at all? What if it is about loosening our grip on what we cannot keep so we can fully love what is here now?

The life you are living today was once a future you could only imagine. What might happen if you looked back at a younger version of yourself and let them know: "Hey, you. You made it this far."

For much of my life, I looked outside myself for answers, believing someone else would know the right path. This reflection explores the journey from confusion to trust, from searching to remembering, and the place I now return to when I need guidance: the corner of my past and my heart.

A reflection on shame, self-discovery, and remembering that the inner world was never locked away from us.

Many of us have hit the wall on new delight. This week’s reflection explores childhood joy, burnout, overgiving, and the slow return to ourselves through loving awareness and compassionate curiosity. What if our pursuit of happiness is less about discovering something new and more about remembering what once made us feel fully alive?

On Mother’s Day 2016 I opened Facebook to see RIP Robin.

My head wobbled, my heart sank and time stopped.

Several months prior to Robin’s death I had begun to toy with the idea of being happy. Did I get to be happy, even if it causes pain in those I love?

Sitting in my backyard the morning after Robin died, I wondered to myself, “Where did she go?” and in an instant it felt as if the top of my head opened like a funnel and the words, “it’s all made up,” came tumbling down from above and into my knowing.

The death of my friend revived me. That day began my Reunion Tour — a journey of revisiting my life with compassion, curiosity, and the willingness to remember my own truth.