A Wee Complication - July 29, 2024

For the past month, I have been going to UVA every week to see how my body is responding to transplant (a little over 6 weeks out from surgery!). The providers order labs to make sure my anti-rejection meds are at a good level, check on my liver, kidneys, and heart functions, and look for signs of infection and/or complications. I also do routine pulmonary function tests (PFTs) that measure my lung capacity, volume, rates of flow, and gas exchange. (Pre-transplant I was at 36% overall capacity and now I’m at 83%! I have a year to build up my capacity until it levels out) Gradually, other procedures are introduced, like a bronchoscopy, which I had yesterday.

The “bronch” “provides diagnostic information and therapeutic applications on multiple processes that affect the lung leading to cough, shortness of breath, infection, chest X-ray abnormalities.” During yesterday’s procedure, a small pneumothorax, which is trapped air between the lung and chest wall, was seen. One of the ways to treat is by inserting a chest tube to suction out the air. For those who may not be familiar, having a chest tube put in is painful! I found out this morning that the placement of the tube is not quite right, so they have to shift it a bit. I’ll also have to stay another night in the hospital.

I am grateful that the doctor found the air pocket and am relieved that I’m in the hospital being treated for it. There are always ways to find the silver lining in it all. And when it comes down to it, I sure am grateful I can breathe.

Living Live Immunocompromised - August-September 2023

A moment of peace and reflection at work.

I felt a heaviness going into work directly after receiving news that I was to begin a pre-lung transplant evaluation. All throughout this lung disease journey, I felt like I got hit with waves of new information at each appointment and as soon as I’d get up, I’d get knocked down again. It wasn’t necessarily a negative thing, but it was difficult to grasp my reality. I continued to keep moving regardless.

When I got to work, I was taken outside of my fears and the unknowns, and felt immediate relief being amongst nature and art. I had a meeting with an incoming artist, and was grateful to have that commitment lined up. Art and nature and the connections that evolve between people is the ultimate elixir. I let a couple of close coworkers know and it was emotional for sure. I was inbounded by love and support out the gate. My team had my back and that’s not guaranteed. And while the emotional support was there, the job was demanding and it was a stressful time of year. We had a beach trip to Hilton Head planned, so I was going to have a week of rest/family adventure with a toddler.

The trip to Hilton Head was awesome. I rekindled my love for bike riding, and would go on several mile bike rides. It was a form of meditation and release for me. Not to mention I was in pulmonary rehab and needed to move my body everyday. I felt physically OK, but when we were on our way home back to VA, I felt a little uncomfortable. The following day, when I was working on Labor Day, I really felt like something was not right.

A couple days later, I was in more pain and was having trouble walking. Sores began to develop. Since I was immunocompromised, I decided to go to Patient First. They said I had saddle sores and gave me an antibiotic.

By Saturday, around 5 am, I was in so much pain, we went to the ER. I thought they’d be able to determine what I had and I’d be out in time to still co-host a bridal luncheon for my best friend. I got admitted, and ended up being in the hospital for three weeks and out of work for a total of six weeks. It turned out, I had shingles…

A case of shingles never stops an Alabama Football watching party. RTR!

A Plan for Treatment

Tuesday, June 13, 2023 marked the day of my open lung biopsy. I went to the follow up appointment to meet with my new doctor at VCU to go over the results. They weren’t able to determine what I had, but they were able to rule out sarcoidosis. That was the positive news, but I was still in the unknown. I was referred to the interstitial lung disease (ILD) clinic and was to see a leading ILD pulmonologist. It was this man who would change my life forever.

I had my first appointment with my new ILD doctor on July 11, 2023. After seeing my X-ray he said there “seem[ed] to be a lot of airway centered scarring and inflammation, most suggestive of a potential exposure driving [my] symptoms.” In August, the pulmonologist presented my case to the ILD conference, which consisted of a panel of doctors of varying disciplines. After discussing my case, my “presentation was thought to be most consistent with unclassified ILD with a prominent inflammatory component.”

I will always remember the date August 15, 2023. It was the day of my follow-up appointment when the doctor shared the outcome of the ILD conference and also discussed the plan for treatment. I was eager to hear the action items that would bring me permanent relief.

The plan was broken down into A., B., C.’s: A. Begin another immunosuppressant at a higher dose; B. Begin an antibody therapy medication; and C. Lung transplant.

This was the first time I had heard “lung transplant” as a course of treatment. The doctor said that the evaluation process for a lung transplant is quite lengthy and involves a lot of tests. He referred me to UVA for the evaluation to get the ball rolling so I’d be ready when/if the time came for a transplant. When the doctor stepped out of the room to gather some resources I teared up immediately and called Evan. I left the appointment feeling stunned. “Of course it won’t get to that,” I thought to myself. But the thought of a lung transplant was incomprehensible. I got to the parking deck, sat in my car and cried. It was a brief release because I had to get to work…

“Holy Trinity”

How It Started - Part II

By January 2023, the doctors were treating me as if I had sarcoidosis, an autoimmune related disease. I was prescribed an immunosuppressant which made me ill twice a day like clockwork. I had to call out from my job and work remotely until my body adjusted. After a week or so at the therapeutic dose, the sickness did not go away, so the provider pulled me off of the medication. I was still on steroids at this time, but was tapering down to a lower dose. At the end of February, I tested positive for covid for the second time. It was pretty mild this go around. Overall, I was maintaining, but my cough was still persistent and seemed to be getting worse. I’d get flare ups upon exertion, being around strong scents, and being exposed to cold and hot air. I was becoming more familiar with my triggers.

One Friday evening in March (around St. Patrick’s Day), Evan and I went out to dinner. Having dates and outings and keeping adventure alive were all things that made us feel “normal,” despite the experience we were going through as a family. We were just about finished with dessert when I had a significant coughing spell. My heart rate jumped to the 150s, but my oxygen saturation stayed in the safe range. When we got home, I sent my provider a message in the patient portal letting him know of the incident. The following day, Saturday, he called me and told me to go to the hospital to make sure I wasn’t having a pulmonary embolism. I dropped everything I was doing and Evan and I headed to VCU.

While I didn’t have a pulmonary embolism, they admitted me. Not only were my lungs severely inflamed, it turned out I had rhinovirus and was still testing positive for covid. My shortness of breath was also worsening. The doctor said an open lung biopsy would be a sure way to tell what was going on with my lungs. At this point, sarcoidosis and interstitial lung disease were the two lung diseases that were on the table. I ended up transferring my care to VCU since they were going to be performing the biopsy…

Simultaneously, there were several significant happenings already on the books: a major exhibition installation at work in April, and two out of town weddings in May and June. Since both of the weddings involved traveling by plane, and I couldn’t fly after surgery, the thoracic surgeon scheduled the biopsy a couple of days after we got back in town on June 13.

The exhibition installation proved to be a major success and highlight of my career as an exhibition designer. We co-produced the exhibit with the sculpture artist, which involved intensive planning for over a year and a half. Five large-scale sculptures were installed over a twelve day period. I was so fortunate to have carried the exhibit to the finish line (along with the team), and not be interrupted by my biopsy.

The two weddings were incredibly meaningful, too. The one in May was a reunion with my closest friends, and some of them hadn’t met Evan. He got to see a big piece of my heart in real time. In June, we ventured out to Colorado for another friend’s wedding in Boulder. As soon as we touched down in Denver, adventure took hold of us. In addition to the majestic Rocky Mountains, beautiful Colorado landscape, and celebrating our friends’ union, we experienced Meow Wolf, Denver Botanical Garden, a show at Red Rocks, and another show in Boulder. It was at Red Rocks where my limitations became even more obvious due to the elevation. No matter what, our family continued to seek joy and live life to the fullest. Little did I know that I’d be prioritizing living life fully, in an even more intentional way, a year later.

How It Started - Part I

December 2021, about 6 months after Eva was born, I started having a cough that was more than just the average tickle. It was pretty consistent and noticeable enough for Evan to tell me I needed to look into it. I was also experiencing shortness of breath, but I figured it was a lingering symptom post pregnancy and from not fully being back in shape. Now that I think of it, spin class really became a challenge and I left in the middle of one of my classes. A first after seven years on the bike.

I got an appointment at BetterMed and they did an X-ray of my chest.

“It looks like you have Covid pneumonia,” the doctor said. “But, I’ve never had Covid (to my knowledge),” I said.

That doctor advised me to follow up with my PCP, who I had already scheduled an appointment with a few weeks back. I went to my PCP in January 2022 and she ordered a CT scan. Without much explanation, I was then referred to a pulmonologist to dig a little deeper. I saw the first pulmonologist in March and he said it looked like I had sarcoidosis, based on the lung symptoms I was having. I underwent a procedure to conclude that I had sarcoidosis, but the test was inconclusive. I was prescribed supplemental oxygen since my O2 saturation dipped into the mid-80s during a walking test. A normal, healthy person’s O2 saturation should never drop below 90. I wore it on occasion around the house, but I didn’t really see a need for it at that time. I was also prescribed a steroid, but I didn’t find it that helpful. After three months, I was referred to another pulmonologist for a second opinion before doing an invasive open lung biopsy.

While all this medical stuff was going on, my family and I continued to live a full and abundant life. Eva was nearing her first birthday. I had gotten the role of Director of Exhibitions at a botanical garden, my dream job position. Evan and I had plans to travel and see a couple of bands we both admire. Eva attended her first Phish show. We were living a packed life!

Celebrating “FestEva I,” Eva’s 1st Birthday.

It wasn’t until October 2022, when I tested positive for covid for the first time, that things took a significant turn for the worst. I don’t think I ever recovered from that, and, all the while, my lung disease was continuing to progress in the background. At the end of October, I had another procedure, and the results for sarcoidosis came back inconclusive. A few weeks later, our family traveled to Mississippi for the Ole Miss vs. Alabama football game. Mom went to Ole Miss and I went to Alabama, and this was Evan’s first SEC football game as well as Eva’s first plane ride. A special occasion, but I spent most of the trip in a wheelchair and relied on my portable oxygen concentrator. It was that trip where the reality of my limitations began to sink in.

For Thanksgiving, our whole family went to Nags Head for a week. This trip was incredibly hard on me. Like most beach houses, there were many flights of stairs in the house, and also to the beach. I felt trapped. The ocean is my ultimate place of peace and restoration, and the thought of taking the stairs to the beach felt impossible. I made it a goal to make it to the beach, and with a lot of help and one stair at a time, I made it. It was definitely hard to be so physically capable in other ways, but not having my breath made me unable to do the things I wanted to do. I was prescribed steroids again, but this time at a much higher dose. I now felt physically capable of doing household chores, bathing Eva, and making dinner. I was able to shed the portable oxygen concentrator, my recent accessory, because I didn’t think I needed it. Life seemed pretty manageable and I felt like I could live with my lung disease, especially since I was remaining hopeful for treatment that would prevent me from getting worse. Needless to say, 2022 presented several challenges to accept and work through. My spiritual foundation, loving family, and supportive community gave me the strength to walk through the unfamiliar one day at a time.

Breathing in the beach, after meeting my goal.

The Call

Thursday, June 13 was just like any other morning. Eva and I were getting her ready for the day ahead and Evan was downstairs packing lunches and tending to the morning routine of watering plants and feeding Samson. Most mornings, Eva gets ahold of my phone and takes pictures. At one point, I managed to convince her to return the phone to me by taking a selfie together. That was 7:22 am. 2 minutes later, I received the phone call that would change my life forever. I looked at the incoming caller ID. This wasn’t an existing contact but the area code said it all. 434. Instantly, I knew this was it. This was the call telling me that it was time.

“We got lungs!” My pre-transplant nurse coordinator told me.
“You mean, it’s time? I have lungs?”
“Yes, it’s time!”

All at once I shifted my energy from “morning routine” chaotic flow to “we have 3 hours to get to Charlottesville.” I called for Evan downstairs letting him know we got the call. He didn’t hear me, cause when he met me at the stairs, he appeared pretty normal. “We got lungs!” I told Evan. He too switched gears and we were now making moves to get to Charlottesville. Next, I called my Dad, who I felt shift gears as well. My parents wanted to follow us up to Charlottesville. Then, I called my sister, Louise, and reassured her that everything was OK and that this was a good thing. Then I called my mother-in-law letting her know the news, too. They were going to pick up Eva and take her to school.
I packed some clothes, chargers, journal, and a box full of pictures, cards and words of encouragement from loved ones. Throughout it all, I felt peace and an inner knowing that all was unfolding as it was intended to. I didn’t feel much fear at that point. I was focused on what was in front of me and fully present. It was time to leave.

Picture of Eva and me minutes before receiving "THE CALL" from my UVA pre-transplant NP.

Curiously Seeking Clarity

When looking at my vision board for this year, it's clear what my theme for 2024 is: the pursuit of radical self-care, healing, and restoration. Healing and recovery have been the focus of my existence since I got sober in 2014. The kind of healing journey I'm on now requires more strength and dedication, and I'm ready for it...

A few months after I created Healing Whole for sharing written reflections, inspiration, etc., my life was in the process of taking a monumental turn health wise, unbeknownst to me. Fast forward to today, after two years of tests, scans, evaluations from multiple specialists, and surgery, I have been diagnosed with unspecified interstitial lung disease (ILD). “Unspecified” meaning the specialists don't know what I have or how I got it. I recently completed a pre-lung transplant evaluation so I can be ready if/when my condition worsens. A lung transplant is the most intensive form of treatment for ILD, so I am doing what I can to prevent my symptoms and condition from becoming more severe.

Not only has it been hard living with this diagnosis and accepting my new normal, but it’s been hard knowing my disease has impacted my husband, daughter, family, friends, and former co-workers. Resigning from a dream job is never easy, but I now can deeply and fully invest in my physical wellness and wholeness. It’s been hard identifying what I really need. It’s been hard discovering my daily limitations. It’s been hard not to think about worst case scenarios. It’s. Been. HARD! And, yet, through the hard, there has also been an abundant amount of gratitude, support, love, joy, peace, and beauty. I truly feel blessed, and it is because I am.

The past two years have been challenging to say the least. Although my circumstance is scary at times, remaining curious and seeking clarity helps guide me and keep me grounded. I’ll be OK. In fact, I'll be more than OK. I'll be well. And while I may not return to where I once was physically, I can choose to practice acceptance and embrace the challenges. Cause let’s face it – self-pity is painful and lonely. And that is the opposite of how I want to feel or be today. So, here’s to being more curious all the while seeking clarity.

2024 Vision Board

Never Give Up

There are times when all I want to do is quit. I get impatient. I get tired. I get bored or annoyed. Running away or stopping can seem like an easier alternative than sticking with something that isn’t the most comfortable. Often times, if I do quit, I end up right where I left off because there is still a lesson to be learned. The universe always knows.

Currently, my main challenge in life is health related, and it is out of my control. My body feels like it’s going against me, and my life plans are not panning out the way I want them to go. This has brought on waves of disappointment, discouragement, and frustration. But that’s not all I have been experiencing. I’ve felt a tremendous amount of support and love from my family and friends. I continue to stay grateful and do my utmost to practice acceptance. I know that I am evolving spiritually and that one day this experience will help someone else.

There will always be unknowns in life. No outcome or result is guaranteed. So, while I face uncertainties, I will practice being fully present and accepting of life as it unfolds. One breath at a time. I will stick to the path, and continue the climb. No matter what.

My Word for 2023

The New Year often brings up mixed emotions for me. Recapping a year in review can sometimes resurface experiences of pain and also joy. The past several years, I’ve had a word serve as a guidepost and source of inspiration for the year ahead. In the past, it’s been words like “balance” and “surrender”.

A couple of weeks ago in meditation, the word “relieve” came up for me as an action or prompt to carry with me into 2023. I didn’t really know what “relieve” meant, but after further reflection I thought about my current health challenges and how I’m often in need of relief. And, in thinking more on the significance of “relieve” I thought about how I could serve as a source of relief to others.

So, this year it’s not all about what I’m focusing on receiving or a heavy theme of inner work and self development/improvement. This is an invitation to shift my focus outside of myself and think about what I could be doing for others. What energy am I bringing to social interactions and environments? What is my offering? What am I leaving behind? There is a lot of responsibility and intention in that.

I’m grateful for this shift and also the opportunities for new and restored connections. May this New Year bring me closer to my inner guide, allow for opportunities to surrender to the Divine, and bring about relief in all its forms. Peace to all and abundant blessings.

Sunset on the sound.

Seasons Within

Nature continues to serve as my primary teacher. Always changing. Constantly adapting and evolving. She is the ultimate illustration of surrender and perseverance, no matter what. Recently, I have been energetically transitioning between my own internal seasons, and find myself experiencing the challenge with feeling and being grounded and/or centered. It is a busy time of year, and timetables, schedules, events, and calendars can often dictate my own energetic flow. Each outing or obligation becomes a stepping stone that influences my state of being. It feels like a constant river of busy, and the current hasn’t let up. Today was the fist day in several weeks where I didn’t have to be somewhere at a specific time. I embraced feelings of relief, gratitude, and expansiveness. I have space to be and reflect and take time to check-in with myself in a slow and intentional way.

I have come to the realization that the seasons and changes that happen in our physical environments also take place within. There are times where I find myself questioning my behaviors and wondering why I am “off-track” when in reality I am transitioning into another state or season of being. I have had to monitor my self talk and come to a place of nonjudgment and acceptance. I am gradually letting go and allowing my own internal seasons to organically unfold. There is a lot of peace around this practice, and always a lesson for more self love and compassion.

A moment with winterberry.

Healing

Healing. We’ve all experienced it in one form or another. A skinned knee from riding on two-wheels for the first time. A broken heart from the loss of a loved one. Not landing that dream job you’d hoped for. Exclusion. Rejection. So many shades of pain, and yet they all are just as significant as the other.

Healing provides an opportunity to move through pain, gradually, and over time. The experiences may spring forth new and unfamiliar territory, as pain leaves a lasting impression on the landscape of the mind, body, and soul. While the pain may be difficult to encounter in the moment, it always takes me to where I need to go. If we take time to nourish ourselves, resilience, strength, acceptance, and humility are possible passengers throughout the journey.

Peace in the Moment

It’s not often I catch a sunset like this one. I took this first picture the day after Christmas, after the steady but swift build up of holiday hype and joy that inevitably comes crashing down a day or so after. Now, I find myself in a sort of purgatory between Christmas and New Years Eve. Feelings kept at a simmer, with hopes of more celebration and feel good feelings…

Things are obviously different this year, but it’s moments when I take a second to admire the sky in all its glory that I feel peace and comfort. The weight that I typically carry is lifted, and I feel the presence of something greater than me. What a relief it is to know I am guided and taken care of, whether I believe it or not.

This second snap is of this morning’s sky. I was with Eva in the kitchen and caught a glimpse of nothing short of spectacular. Eva and I went outside and I captured the moment. Admiring the silhouette of the trees and brilliance of the sky. It lasted all but a second, but it’s what carried me throughout the day.
Sending blessing to all as we approach the New Year. May you find Peace and carry it with you on this day and all days that follow.

Spiritual Path

The Spiritual path is an

Infinite voyage.

Guidepost after guidepost

After…

Thinking I have arrived

Only to discover

M O R E

More Depth

More Ground.

Grounded.

And then,

Set “free” by the ego’s

Careless thoughts and assumptions.

In search of True North,

my feet land on

The Path.

Again.

And, I return to

The Journey,

The Journey

W I T H

The Journey

Within

The Hidden Mother

In the 19th-century, infant portraits were often captured with a person holding the child still throughout the long exposure time. This photography became known as “hidden mother” since the person assisting the subject, usually the mother, was made hidden by drapery and fabric. The mother faded into the background. All focus was on the child.

Evan and I were first introduced to this historical technique when we had tintypes of our family taken. At once when Evan Googled “hidden mother photographs,” he wanted Eva and me to reenact this haunting and kinda creepy portrait style. It’s safe to say that Evan was quite pleased with the way it turned out. I dug it also.

I couldn’t help but reflect more on the “hidden mother.” I thought about my postpartum experience, and the many feelings I abruptly encountered recovering throughout the fourth trimester. There were times, and sometimes still, where I felt hidden and isolated, saturated with all of the intense feelings that spring from the hormones and sleep deprivation. Of course, people loved and cared for me the very best they could, but at times, I felt overlooked in one of the rawest moments of my life…

As ever, I’m grateful for the journey and challenging road. While it wasn’t easy, and it took a lot of tools and support, I found my solid ground. Today, I walk on a strong bedrock. My feet firmly planted, carrying the most incredible and precious miracle in my arms. The ultimate gift. I am full of gratitude.

Photo credit: Em White Photography

Weighted Thoughts

Weight. It is something that I have struggled with the majority (if not all) of my life. And it has been one hell of a JOURNEY. I have early memories in grade school where I felt differently than my peers because of the way I looked. I went to a private school and we all wore uniforms, and I always felt like I stood out in comparison to my classmates. My uniforms were big and long. It wasn’t till later on that I started having my uniforms hemmed so I blended in more.

When looking back, I sometimes feel sad that I spent so much of my childhood extremely self conscious. My low self esteem distracted me in school and I never seemed to perform up to my potential until later years. It’s pretty wild how much of an impact low self esteem has on one’s life and how those debilitating thoughts and lack of self love shape your trajectory. I don’t have any regrets, and know that I ended up right where I needed to in life, but sometimes I do have those “what if” thoughts. Like, what if I had all of the confidence and self love that I have today back then? How would my life have panned out differently?

I believe that the challenging experiences that I have in life are meant to be shared, because I know I’m not alone here. Women (and men) struggle with this a lot, and I am SO grateful that I am on the path of self love, and our world is beginning to fiercely accept ALL bodies and promote body positivity pretty openly and widely. It brings me peace knowing that my daughter will be brought up in a world that practices more self love and acceptance openly.

I could write a novel on body image and the struggles I’ve had, but for now, I’m gonna leave it with that. I’m still fighting the good fight, (gently) combating negative self talk around my shape and looks. The thing I must remember, and while it’s an overused phrase it carries truth—it’s what’s on the inside that truly counts. This body is a beautiful vessel that carries my heart and soul. It’s been through a lot, and has brought me far. I cannot imagine a better body than the one that I’ve been blessed with

Photo credit: Alyse Michelle Images

Helping Hands

As I was finishing up some dishes before going to work, and my mom was in the other room holding Eva, I thought about all of the help I receive and continue to receive from so many hands. If you think about it, hands are incredibly powerful tools and help us do so much. I rely on my hands to communicate, pray, create, express, move, nourish, and care for…the list goes on…It’s pretty mind blowing when you think about it.

I am deeply grateful for the hands in my life. The hands that take care of my daughter are most precious. Hands that hold, feed, turn pages, play, clean, and keep her safe. It truly is a gift and privilege to have trusting hands in our life.

Take a moment to look at your hands. Notice the lines, freckles, marks, scars, wrinkles, and think about all the work that they have done for you (and countless others) leading up to now. Honor your hands and take care of them. Our hands play a significant role in connecting our souls and hearts to those around us. Bless your hands and all the good that comes from them.

Home

Baby sounds. Evan’s laugh. Pepper’s licks and Samson purring. The jingles of Mom’s charm bracelet. Dad’s footsteps in his work shoes in the morning. The gentle hiss of the radiator. All of these noises hold meaning and feelings of home. It makes me think of that Edward Sharpe and Magnetic Zeros song, “Home” and the lyric, “Home is wherever I’m with you.” It’s the memories, the feelings, and the people that make me feel home.

We, Evan and I, talk a lot about our home. We love our home. But, when thinking about the future, it doesn’t serve us, or, at least we don’t think that it will. We (I should really say “I”-Evan is a bit more laid back than me) think about the possibility of our family growing, and the number of bedrooms and limited amount of space. It doesn’t seem to accommodate a growing family. That brings me back to a thought from earlier this week—instead of worrying about the past or the future, why not make space for the present?

I tend to limit possible outcomes by attaching myself to a vision or fantasy that I think will make me feel better or be happier. That always seems to be my pattern. Taking myself out of the here and now with the expectation of feeling more than. But, then I take a deep breath, feel my feet on the ground, and express deep gratitude for my life today. Today, I will experience the joy of living in the moment. I will feel the feelings and comfort of home wherever I am, since I carry “home” with me wherever I go. Home resides in my heart.

Work in Progress

Here is a picture of our Christmas tree. Y’all may be like, “cool, nailed it.” Or, have some other opinion…Would you know it if I told you that not even a quarter of the ornaments are on, and it’s a work in progress (WIP)? Even though it’s a WIP, it’s still charming, cozy and magical. And, while all of those precious ornaments add meaning and sweetness, the tree, as it stands is already more than enough.

I forget what movie it is, but in this film, someone lays down under the Christmas tree, with their head completely immersed while looking up into all the lights. I love that scene, and this morning I was inspired to reenact that moment. I wanted to take a look within the tree, and experience its fullness.

While laying on the ground and looking up at the lights, I thought how I’m a lot like this tree. At times, I find myself trying hard to present well, like a perfectly decorated tree. I’ll admit, I’m very self-critical, always striving to be more than I already am. When I get on a roll, I have to be reminded that I am enough just by BEING, and the lights on the inside, within the tree, are really what matter. So, even though I may be spinning out because the tree isn’t finished, I must keep in mind that for others, the tree already is more than enough, just like me.

Healing Whole

This time last year, I was just about 16 weeks pregnant and FULL of creative energy

I was also in the middle of a manifestation challenge (led by @gabbybernstein) and was completely open to and trusting in divine guidance for inspiration and direction

During one of my morning meditations, the words “Healing Whole” came to me. I envisioned a community where folx come together and support each other through shared personal experience. A healing hub dedicated to soul work and internal growth. I felt so pulled by this thought and vision and immediately wanted to get the ball rolling…

Fear and self-doubt crept in the next day as my ego showed up and wanted this thought to immediately become “something.” Was this going to be a service? A website? A physical space? What is my role in all of this? Do I need a certification? How can I make this accessible to everyone? Oh, and you’re pregnant, and you are never going to have the time to dedicate yourself to this project…and a year went by…

Six months after giving birth, and adjusting to life today, I’m ready to start this journey of Healing Whole. For now, social media is the most convenient and accessible avenue to dive in and just start somewhere. Sharing thoughts, reflections, inspiration… Stay tuned to what unfolds, but, for now, I invite you to join me as I commit to Healing Whole