There is a shift in the air, I can sense the slowing down and notice the leaves in my neighbor's trees already turned and falling. I never feel fully prepared for autumn, it creeps up suddenly in a blur and all the sudden there are new schedules and a downward trend in energy.

I am already feeling the urge to hunker down, to go within. I resist because there are so many things to do, people to see, stuff to create.

And yet, the wind blows southeasterly and I'm called deeper within my dream state, more and more into myself and into the inner work.

This is natural, I think. I long to embrace the shift without too much resistance or woe. I don't have to be sad about what's coming, even though that's been a habit - pre-winter anxiety. Which is ironic to think about as we've had horrid heat waves the last couple days and there is no hint of chill in the air.

But we are nature and I can surrender to the inner slow down, even if the outer world doesn't take a break. I can be gentle with...

There is an abundance of sunshine today, and with it scorching heat for an Iowa August morning. I pulled a Tarot card before sitting down to write, and drew The Sun. 

An abundance of light, a radiance that glows from within and without. A message of excitement, connection, opportunity.

It feels like many of us are on the precipice of something bold and brilliant, the energy of a thousand suns bursting forth through the darkness.

It's a message I welcome today, even if I don't yet feel it. I know it's there. I know that by tuning in to my inner wisdom, by sitting graciously and gratefully with all that is, that more light is coming.

A beacon of hope lies within and ahead of us. We can create more of what we want to experience in this life. Believe it. See it. Feel it.

Sending you an abundance of sunshine to heal whatever ails your aching heart today.

I love you.

I am constantly inspired by the creativity and hard work of others. For me a new song, book, or even business opportunity can be just the message needed to move forward in the direction of our dreams.

This morning I was introduced to this beautiful song, " Beacon" by an artist named Morgxn. (In fact, I've been listening to the whole album and loving it.) The potent line from the chorus that caught me was, "Sometimes we're the boat, sometimes we're the beacon."

As I listened I chuckled a bit as my last blog post was about steering your boat in a new direction, and so the synchronicity was powerful. The metaphor continuing in this way, because it's an accurate and beautiful representation of what is coming through. As we continue on this journey of life that is ever-evolving, with its challenges and wins, there are ebbs and flows of our experiences that ask us to show up in different ways. A variety of moments, even day to day, may call us to stand as a Light for others on...

Over the weekend, I woke with thoughts about what it means to be brave every day. Like what am I really trying to say here? 

Ultimately, I think that it's really brave to create a life you want and sometimes it's even braver to understand and know that pieces of that vision will change and evolve as you change and evolve. 

You see, it's not easy to know thyself. It's even harder living in a world that is constantly bombarding you with images, messages, stories that are tell you who and what you're supposed to be. Some might even call it a luxury to be able to hear yourself think sometimes.

That's why it's important to spend some time on your own, to be moved by something inward and quiet, a brave resolve to dare to be a little more of who you are at the core. 

That's pretty esoteric for a Monday morning, I realize... so what does that even mean? 

It means that if you're not sure why you make the choices you make, or why you desire the things you do that...

Glennon Doyle, if you don't already know her, is an author who cohosts the podcast, We Can Do Hard Things with her sister, Amanda, and wife, former US professional soccer player Abby Wambach. 

I've followed Glennon for nearly a decade, reading her books that tell her story of triumph and unraveling, coining the phrase "brutiful" about this experience of life that is both beautiful and brutal at once. She is a beacon of light for so many, and I'm grateful for her courage to let us in so that none of us feel alone in this journey. 

This week, I've had to do a really hard thing, and I'm allowing for the space to grieve a shift in business I was hoping to avoid. But life brings us opportunities to learn, and I am learning a lot and grateful for the patience and understanding of the people affected by choices I had to make and the knowing that all will be well in the end, goals will still be achieved.

Sometimes the right thing to do is also the hardest thing to do. If...

This morning I resisted the mindfulness practice I'd committed to this week. I have a few choices for those 10 minutes, different ways to slow down, get present, and release some stress and anxiety. I wake up anxious most days, before my eyes are even open, so it's pretty helpful to get up and start the doing of the day instead of wallowing and getting sucked down into a pit of anxiety oblivion topped with a shame spiral.

So I did well at the getting up part, took the dogs out and tidied up the kitchen. Enough doing had gone by that it was time for the mindfulness choice, and I didn't want to do any of it. So I got my coffee and now I'm sitting here with you and my laptop and I'm considering the senses.

In writing, we talk about using sensory details to bring our readers into the moment. It's a good idea to describe what a character or narrator is seeing, feeling, hearing, tasting, and smelling... not all at once, but enough to bring the reader into the moment.

A mindfulness...

A few years ago I did a short stint of channeling messages through writing for a handful of clients. The work was easeful, the messages profound for their readers, and I felt good about it, but didn't quite know what to do with it.

It lay on the back burner, simmering and ready whenever I was, to tap in again. As business got busier and I focused on my book, I'd think about what channeled writing is and could do for me, for my clients, for the collective. It doesn't feel like "me" the me that is sitting here intentionally writing about this subject and talking to you.

It's definitely words and phrases and images coming through me. From where? Who really knows, but I believe in a divine presence that hovers in the space between spirit and science. I understand us all to be interconnected, energetic beings of light that are here on Earth to create, to experience a full range of emotions and experiences, and to be present in the learning from all of it. 

A few people have been...

This morning I had a profound realization as I drove to get coffee listening to some 425 Hertz healing music to soothe the after affects of last night's migraine aura. That is: when I have the space to breathe, I have a clear understanding that I'm exactly where I am supposed to be. Every time. 

When it comes to my book, I've been wanting it all to move so much faster. I've been wishing I had more time, more energy, more clarity to get it to the finish line so the long awaited publishing process could truly begin. I've been resistant to believing that I now had to wait until 2025 and even then, not sure how far into the year yet would be best. 

But then the words of someone on my publishing team echoed back to me: "You can do it fast or you can do it right."

I want to do this right. I want to make sure that the book I'm putting out in the world is the best version it could be. I want to make sure that I give it the time it needs so that it can be more successful...

What does it mean to have a diagnosis? When it comes to mental health diagnoses it can be different for everyone. Some resist the trek towards diagnosis because it can put us in a box. A label can become limiting -- for our own psyche, for the care team that helps us, for our family and friends. It can limit what we and others think we are capable of, and who wants that?

Not me.

However, when I was finally officially diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder in my 30s, suddenly so many pieces of my life, my decisions, and my way of moving through the world made so much more sense. Furthermore, it allowed me to get more targeted and supportive therapy to overcome some of the biggest hurdles I'd been facing. 

The label, however, does not define me. I don't believe in its limitations. Everything in this life is on a continuum that we are constantly weaving up and through. A diagnosis can be "both/and" it can be the box we sometimes fit into and it can be the light at the end of...

I just got back from a family vacation on Lake Michigan, and I'm feeling pretty good having had four days of little to no work, abundant family time, and the soothing effects of water. 

I posted a few pics on social media of a beautiful sunset over the water and a plea to get into nature with a little video of the waves crashing the shore. But I want to be real, too. It took work to get there. Not just this time, but nearly every time.

There's the anxiety that exists before the trip, some normal level extra stressors of making sure the laundry is done and our pet-sitters have what they need. There is also the catastrophic thoughts and panic that can sometimes occur, which thankfully I've learned to manage by redirecting my thoughts and looking at the clear evidence before me.

But as everyone loaded into the car, I began to sob. I had taken a little pill to relax me for the drive -- I tend to be a more anxious passenger than driver, so I knew this would be a good idea. I was...