Sometimes wisdom hides in plain sight; round, orange, and sun-warmed. The pumpkin patch became my autumn classroom, teaching me how to slow down, listen, and find nourishment in unexpected places.

I haven’t been very good at doing nothing lately. Between the nonprofit trip, the pumpkin patch, Cedar & Cypress, and the constant tending of family life, my days feel like soil that’s been turned one too many times…air-hungry, overworked, losing its softness. I keep telling others that rest is sacred, yet I catch myself racing past my own words. It doesn’t feel like hypocrisy so much as forgetfulness. The kind that happens when love for many things stretches you thin. As I s

The nervous system doesn’t need perfection. It just needs consistency.

The Guardians in my yard whisper to my soul every day: To be cedar is to be strong, patient, enduring, and true. That energy is not only theirs, it lives in each of us, waiting to be remembered.

"Swim upstream," said the salmon. So I did...I looked down into the water and saw my reflection staring back. A salmon I was not, but in the stillness the salmon that swam before me became the teacher that I needed.