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About a month ago I was sitting in the bowels of the Prudential Center Arena. In a slanted industrial room underneath the bleachers I met my fellow volunteer crew members. We were all ready to make this Tony Robbins event the best in the history of the Universe. At our first gathering as a team, we were all gifted the same blessing, “Do what you have to do to take care of yourself first.” I smiled; though my IBS is regulated, life still happens. It gave me certainty knowing that the expectation was to prioritize my wellbeing. It also made sense. How can we give our gifts to the world without vitality? Of COURSE we need to maintain our energy. But as the days went on I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I leaned in to connect with others in white squeaky fold-out chairs, and found so many of…

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Little English cafes teach us something… There’s always time for a cup of tea and a chat. That’s just the English way. We slow down enough to ask the question, to listen to the story, to pay close attention. We just pop over for a cuppa. But what a treat to stop by the cafe, the daytime hub of the village, to have a chat. (Note : At nighttime that would be the pub.) 😉 Cafes (or coffee shops to my American tribe) have expanded their original function. It’s a beautiful thing. Now, rather than simply connect with local lovelies, we have the opportunity to reach a global audience and receive a global perspective. What a gift! Maybe you’re reading this from a cafe far away? In this expansion, though, we can’t forget how they served us originally : a meeting space to listen and be heard, to find connection…

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I’m sitting on a couch in LA wanderlusting about a city two hours to the South. San Diego. We had an unforeseen relationship, sd and I. I came into town fully expecting to enjoy it like a friend that you love and leave for your true home. I *didn’t* come into town expecting to find a space of peace and freedom. It’s kind of like when you get knocked over the head with a love that you hadn’t even considered, that you didn’t even know existed. Breathless.   what to do. go to the beach. i know you were expecting that. there’s something spiritual these beaches that i’ve never felt on the east coast. y’all know i’m a sucker for the outer banks, but this was different. maybe it’s just my headspace right now, but this felt more grounding, more in tune with the earth. here are the ones i made it to. Ocean Beach my…

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Halloween. 2006. I was a junior in college at good ole’ Indiana University of Pennsylvania. My girls got together to celebrate, but we’re not you’re typical college girls. There were no nurses or schoolgirls or [enter stereotypical skimpy costume here] among us. Our typical Friday night included a Beauty + the Beast followed by an interpretive dance of “Baby” by Justin Bieber and some hot chocolate. Don’t get me wrong – there were a few rare occasions that we could be found dancing on a table, but 90% of the time, we were sober while doing it. No judgment! It’s just who we were/are! Most of these gals were a year ahead of me, so I was a h o t  m e s s this Halloween – crying, red-eyed, and just generally not cute. I already had separation anxiety already creeping in, because I knew these girls wouldn’t be around anymore come…

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PSL. Pumpkin Spice Latté. PSB. Pumpkin Spice Bowl. I have no issues, sister. I have no qualms. Your treat is your treat. But that treat is a bit treatier that this treat. If the PSL and the PSB were in the “Eat This, Not That” book, you know which treat would be where. On some earth-shaking, soul-seeking  level, we as humankind tap into our paleo cousins of the past eat for the season. You know I’m right! We want that warming veggie stew in the winter and that crisp watermelon in the summer. Lean into it, lovely! #aunaturale The food industry, however, has taken that innate, earthly desire and transfigured it with marketing tactics. It’s taken the pumpkin, the delightful pudgy member of the squash family with it’s soothing orange color akin to the leaves of the season, and processed it into a flavoring that’s dusted, sprinkled, and glazed on, well, everything. #pumpkinspiceeverything…

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