the journal · category
The inner work. Musings on healing, self-awareness, and the quiet, unraveling parts of the wellness journey we don't always talk about.
A canned rejection email from a corporate studio, 20 years of experience that suddenly seemed to carry no weight, and the strange midlife line between not caring and caring a lot. On being confused without turning that confusion into a story about your worth.
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Working at the same library branch I came to after school as a kid. On a card game, coming full circle, and the practice rooms we quietly make for each other.
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You don't need a mat or a yoga studio to practice yoga. Sometimes it looks like a hand basket, a list, and a quiet question: who am I in this ordinary moment?
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For years, low-carb, high-protein everything made me feel worse. Then a doctor who actually listened told me the opposite. What I eat most mornings now, why it works for my body, and a simple stewed fruit recipe.
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I thought reiki wasn't real. Then a season of grief cracked me open, an amethyst necklace showed up on its own, and something moved through me I couldn't deny. A story for the (former?) skeptics.
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For most of my life, my body was something I was trying to fix. It has taken me the better part of forty years to realize she was never the problem.
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Somewhere in my twenties and thirties, I picked up the idea that exercising had to be something specific to matter. Then I moved home to Fort Wayne, and walking found me again — not as exercise, but as a homecoming.
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Why do so many healers, teachers, and energy workers seem to lose their health, joy, or spark, even as we're helping others find theirs? A quiet unraveling I lived through, and what finally brought me back.
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