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The past few weeks, I’ve been surrounded by stories. And I’ve found myself wondering: How many remarkable women disappear from our collective memory simply because no one makes room for their stories?
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I love working in my garden. Some of my keenest memories of peace and tranquility have come with my hands in the dirt. Which is why I couldn't understand what was happening this week: I didn't want to go outside. Here are some thoughts about starting anew.
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Drawing on my first experience in a women’s circle and the lessons that followed, this musing is an invitation to rediscover the gift of simply sitting with another—in their joy, grief, uncertainty, or pain—and trusting that sometimes our presence is enough.
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This is a reflection on something universal: what happens when plans change, when life happens, when something you’ve looked forward to for the better part of a year doesn’t materialize.
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Happy birthday, America. We made it to 250 years—with elegant ideals and imperfect execution. With bold dreams and broken promises. With remarkable progress and painful setbacks. Major milestones require reflection and a reckoning. For me, the concept of WE resonates most at this 250-year mark.
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Today I share a guest musing from Allison Gustin - who artfully describes one of "those days". It turns out there’s a limit to what a person can calmly handle before dinner time. One of those days where absolutely nothing goes according to plan? Not catastrophically wrong. Just… relentlessly off.
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