I have some exciting Journey Home Healing updates to share!

First, thank you, beyond words, for your support, your presence, and your belief in what continues to grow, evolve, and take root here.

That sense of alignment has led me to meaningful reflection, time spent journaling, and conversations with mentors and friends, and it has brought me back to something that has always been close to my heart: accessibility

Creating with integrity means freely sharing the tools and gifts that have so graciously been taught and given to me over the years, without pressure or expectation. That principle makes this work feel easy and true.

Starting later this week, I will be unlocking all paid content for every subscriber (meditations and all) and making it free on YouTube. This will allow others to access the recordings, strangers to stumble upon them, AND allow you to share these tools with a friend when they could need a little love and light in their life with no barriers.

As I look ahead, I am also sitting with the bigger picture of where this work is growing. Coaching, mind-body practice, and yoga are becoming more central to how I show up professionally, and in time, each of those offerings will take on its own shape, including paid ones. So while this avenue of sharing is free, there will be ample opportunities to create something that is more financially supportive in the future.

What does this mean for paid subscribers?

That’s entirely up to you!

The paid tier will remain an option to support the work, and I may occasionally create exclusive content, but it is no longer a gate of access.

If you’d like to move to the free tier, all the love to you; do what feels right! And if you feel drawn to JHH and wish to continue supporting at the paid level, please know that your choice does not go unnoticed and is deeply meaningful to my ability to keep creating and sharing.

With so much love,

Ady

Currently in school for a master’s in mind-body medicine and pursuing my international accreditation in integrative wellness coaching. I am working towards creating an evidence-based, well-designed, and well-informed space to do meaningful work helping people, especially women with chronic illnesses, reach their highest potential.

And that paragraph feels completely wrong.
It is 100% true and yet, feels like it encompasses nothing of substance.

Even writing it felt stiff, irritating, and inaccurate.

because that factual account is only but one small sliver of this lifelong journey I have found myself walking. That introduction is the structure, the safety, the guardrails.
All the things that feel “right” and acceptable.

But there is something so much messier and real that is missing, and honestly has been missing from much of what I share and talk about nowadays.

This feeling came when I recently took a values assessment through the VIA Institute of Character, and to my surprise, Spirituality ranked #1 among the 24 values in my results.

A simple assessment I casually took while listening to a lecture on Zoom had me pause, think, journal, contemplate, and analyze over it for over a week.
Turning it over and over and over again in my mind and journal.

Turning and turning all because there was a part of me that wasn’t sure, given my journey so far, that it was ever possible for spirituality to feel that intimately close ever again.

Shifting from an all-consuming identity within the modern christian church since birth to a more vast and experimental delve into mysticism1 in the past 7 years definitely left me disconnected to the idea in many ways.

You see, when I left the church and entered the grey void of “not knowing,” a big part of me gave up the idea that I could ever be as spiritual as I had been in my youth.

The days of being deep in prayer throughout the week, leading multiple small groups, turning to the big guy in the sky for all my answers and guidance, and a stream of constant study, felt so far from me.

And when I left, there was this gut-wrenching belief that no path was richer in connection than the one I was leaving behind, and I mourned that.

I mourned the ease of “having answers,” people to confide in at all hours, and Sunday potlucks.

& at the time, I struggled with the very real possibility that the “hell” I was so intimately familiar with would be waiting for me at the end of the choice to follow something different.

But even with the threat of damnation and loneliness, I mourned far more for the harm I was witnessing unfold before my eyes.
Hell didn’t feel as scary as the pain I could see in front of me.
I watched as the church so adamantly fought, and continues to fight,
for the same exact systems of fear, power struggles, control, war, and corruption that drove the cross into the ground for Christ to bleed upon.

And it broke me.

With a great and deep divide in my chest, it felt as if I parted with Spirit.

& I parted with prayer.
My greatest gift.
My oldest ally.

And I wept.

But oh, how grateful we should be for the forgiving nature of Spirit,
whether within the bounds of religion or to spite them, one cannot part.

One can ignore, denounce, avoid, shame, and repress,
but one cannot sustain a parting of the Spirit.

That is why it is not simply mind-body, but, as with god, three in one: mind-body-spirit.

I struggle even now to use the written word to encapsulate an essence that transcends human understanding, but for the sake of trying,

Spirit is everythingness. It’s all around, it’s all within, it’s all without.
The Mycelium Network2 that connects everything to everything.

And at this point, I hope I haven’t lost you, because for me, Spirit often has a way of helping me get lost in it.

To abandon the helm of the ship I am so adamant to steer.
Spirit guides me, shakes me, holds me, illuminates me, and pulls me from my oneness into my everythingness.

& to be frank, why are we trying to give Spirit a body?
To try to trap it in our limited systems, power structures, and expectations.
Fuck trying to squeeze essence into a bottle to be mass-produced and sold.

I don’t want to drown in the holy water of never-enoughness and always-too-muchness that rigid belief systems are so adamant in providing.

I want to swim in the rushing river of hope that exists in knowing that every moment of every timeline of every human life is a ripple across this vast and expansive universe.

That we all play an important role,
yet are so small a drop in the ocean that we should not concern ourselves with it.

That there is no brokenness, only humanness.

THAT is what has been missing.

This “secret” #1 value of mine that guides, inspires, molds, and refines every part of me and every choice. The topic and relationship I can never cease to find fascinating.

A complete detachment from needing spirituality to make sense or align with logic, even though it often does.

It shapes my practice, my person, my work so intrinsically that even when I state that it has felt like it has been “missing,” it’s been here the entire time.

In my bio on Substack, even,
“Deeply spiritual. Passionately rooted. Radically loving. You are welcome here.”

And as my practice forms and my work refines and my creativity shifts and my journey evolves, I trust so unshakably that when I stop trying to force the ship to the shore, Spirit will show me the vastness of the ocean and there I will find my drop of purpose in this boundless universe.

Namaste.

My VIA (top 8) Results

What type of hiker are you?

There is no wrong answer, really, but the Virgo in me believes there should be.

The thing about hiking with me: I don’t really care much about lifting my feet, grasping for each breath, or staring down at the rocks so I don’t trip and fall.
I am not in it for the exercise or the adrenaline, and I have SHORT legs,
which makes my pace a little less of a stride and more of a constant feeling of needing to catch up.

Truthfully, I don’t really like the hiking part of hiking all that much.
Wild coming from me, I know.

BUT what I DO LOVE.

What brings me back time and time and time again to the vast trails of the Rockies, the Poconos, and the Blue Ridge Mountains is that at the furthest point, when the heart rate comes back to base, when the sweat begins to dry from the brow, is that the landscape I find myself in, is miles and miles away from any civilization.
The grandness of the Earth opens up to me, and there I find the riches.

I don’t rush from that lookout or turnaround of the trail.

Rather, I make it my sanctuary. A perfect space for a PB&J and chat with all the things greater than me. The end of the trail feels like Shavasana because, in many ways, it is.

The heart of Shavasana is an integration. An integration of all movement, breath, and effort, finding homeostasis, a stillness, and a clarity of the mind.

At the end of the effort and exertion, there is a moment to soak it all in, the wonderfulness of it all, the exclusivity of it all. Not rushing from the destination in search of the next journey, but honoring it fully.

So, when I ask you what kind of hiker you are, or even more profoundly, I am more asking what type of person are you?

• “Do you allow yourself space, time, and capacity to celebrate, honor, and cherish the work?”

• “Can you sit in the quiet to see what it has to teach?”

• “Can you stay in the moment just a bit longer before rushing off to the next?”

• “Can you embody the joy of work well done?”

What does that feel to think about?
What does that look in your life?
What small shifts lead you closer to that becoming?

Today’s writing is part of the Teachings from the Forest series.

A string of short and potent writings that have lived in the ether around me like seeds all bursting to bloom all at once. All of these writings are inspired by the trees, rivers, flowers, bees, rocks, and dust-covered trails of the forest. So gather your most creative, open self, lace up your hiking shoes, and we shall journey into the trees to begin.

The lemon water steaming

The memories of mountains in the forefront of my mind

Sitting with the dreary clouds

The deepest breath

The richest sigh.

Sitting with my Sunday wondering.

Wondering about what is to come

Who is left to meet

and how I will be.

Will the house in the valley be true?

will the children run around my feet?

will my home be filled with laughter and wonder?

will my hair grow long and my feet grow rough from barefootedness?

will the mountains keep me company?

will my love hold my hand into the endless not knowings?

I sit with my Sunday

Without a glass ball or certain prophecy

and so I sip my drink, inhale deeply, and think of all the Sundays ahead still to cherish.

It feels wrong to sit and write about how living in a travel trailer can be really on hard on the mind sometimes.

It feels wrong because so so so many people wish they were doing what I am getting to do right now, and heck, I don’t blame them.

So, how did I get here writing this post?
How did I get to the breaking point,
feeling trapped within the four walls of this not-so-small trailer?

Well, as a certified earthy girlie, I am the first in line for structure, routine, rootedness, and fun within certainty. I find most of my expansiveness in time alone, curating meaningful experiences, reading books, constantly learning, and connecting deeply with spirit. ANNNDDD being on the road has put so many of those things on pause, the back burner, or for later down the road “when we get settled”.

All expected and all “prepared” for.
Except you can never really be fully prepared for something you have never done.

You can say a dozen times,

“This last leg of the trip is going to be hard. We will not have as much time to explore, root in, or get familiar with our surroundings.”

“We will be on the road for hours. Staying in state parks with limited amenities & literally have zero time apart.”

“It will be hard, but getting to our destination will be soooo worth it. We are a team, and we are prepared.”

And still, with only four days left of non-stop travel, I felt like I was going insane

“Did I make the wrong choice? How the hell do you share space with someone else 24/7? Will I actually feel any relief in New Hampshire?”

and having a full-on crash out on a random Thursday afternoon.

You would think, “ Oh, that is the end of it.” You had your moment, you said your words, you did your journaling, the worst is behind you.

But you, dear reader, also know that that feeling of stuckness is so much more pervasive than that. Instead, it began consuming my every thought, making me question every decision that brought me here, with each touch of irritability.

Medicating with deep breaths, morning stretches, warm lemon water, and soothing sounds. Nothing was a match for the depth of wondering that I had found myself in, until this morning.

It wasn’t until I arrived at the overlook of the Indian Trail in Big Pocono State Park and was steeped in pure awe that the noise finally dissipated, my shoulders released an exhale, and my focus both narrowed and expanded.

Because when you’re faced with feeling so big in your life.
When you feel that all-consuming certainty that you don’t know how you are going to make it to the next stop without losing yourself completely.

Go find something vast.

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The ocean, the plateau, the mountain tops, a crowd of inspired people (artists, musicians, creators).

Something so UNDENIABLY bigger than yourself to remind yourself that while your life matters and your problems matter, they are so “now.”

They are so “in this moment", and they feel so absolute.

But placed up against the limitless, expansive, and majestic force that is this Earth, this world, this existence, those doubts and fears don’t feel so all-consuming.

From a bigger point of view, you can see solutions you have never seen before.
You can witness the limitless resources that cover the landscape (as long as we continue to protect them).
And you can be reminded that something greater, more benevolent, and more mystical exists all around you, that you are not alone in your wondering.

I thank god for Big Pocono State Park.
Thank god I left the enclosure of our travel trailer to see just how BIG and GRAND and MAJESTIC the limitlessness of this world is.
Thank god I allowed myself to feel that feeling deep in my bones and made room for it to nourish my soul.

And just like that, in all sincerity, I have found not only the acceptance of what lies ahead, but have shifted into oozing enthusiasm to see what the vastness in front of me has in store.

The first few months of 2026 held deep messaging about learning to be a villager, working with the nervous system to counter global chaos (i.e., 7 major planetary bodies in Aries), and reaching back to analog practice as medicine against the technological takeover.

Maybe you felt ALL of that, or none of it, regardless, like a tide pulling back, new layers are beginning to emerge from these places.

As these first waves of energy wash over us,
there is a seeming rawness left in their wake.

That is what happens when you clear things.
When you look at your life and ask

“What is missing?”

“Where am I settling?”

“How am I doing?”

and most profoundly, once again, “How the hell can I help?!”

For me, these questions have invited a deep and meaningful examination of my relationship to creativity, wealth, healthy partnership, and self.

As 30 lingers closer and closer, I feel a guttural pull to begin to align with more.

Not more things necessarily,
but more purpose, more alignment, more meaningful work.
To step into a new level of self.
One that welcomes visibility, abundance, and opportunity with ease and direction in a way I have never been able to hold.

I think back to when I was 22, building something I dreamed would cast me into the world of content creation, motivational speaking, and signing books across the world. To become the next Rachel Hollis or Elizabeth Gilbert. To radically encourage others to follow their dreams and make BIG change.

I think about how empowering and completely unnerving that entire journey felt. Like I was trying to run to the top of the mountain during a mudslide.

I could see the top. I could taste the air.

But I had so little of the tools. So little understanding of what it would cost.

No matter how much I wanted it, I could not let myself reach it.

Much like attempting to climb Mount Delectable of The Divine Comedy1, where the journey teaches that one cannot skip the necessary, often difficult, process of self-examination before rising to the light, I found myself descending into self.

And for the past 7 years, I have allowed that journey to take me somewhere so hard and messy and wonderful and incredible.

Now, I find myself eager to begin a new ascent, not up the false idol of Mount Detectable but instead towards whatever my soul is calling me towards, to find what layer comes next.

To do that, I have had to work to clear anything that has historically made journeying forward impossible.

Things like working to prove myself,
a mistrust that I can hold great things,
or even the fear of disappointment, myself, or others? A little of both.

And that is where the shifting collective message comes back into the picture.

A new invitation of vulnerability is being placed before us.

Asking us to find our rage for the beautiful things that are dying, our honesty around being seen, and the cost of rebuilding a society that relies on more inconvenience in exchange for more meaning.

A vulnerability soothed through the communal gatherings of summer, time spent in the outdoors, innovative music and art seeping into every small crack, and a clarity that, with whatever comes next, no matter how jarring it may be, we are all being called to seek beauty, seek truth, and to know ourselves and each other deeper than we have ever known.

This summer, I will be participating in the To Be Magnetic summer challenge, focusing on healing the visibility wound.

Join me starting June 1st to rewire the subconscious patterns keeping you stuck in hiding, get to the root of your fear of being seen, and shift it at the nervous system level and step into a season of authentic visibility and creative self-expression (whatever that looks like for you). Use code ADY for 15% off your subscription!

Where are you afraid to be seen?

The energetics of this longer practice is to tap into safety, joy, inspiration, and limitless possibilities for what the future holds. This practice is intended to be a soothing and supportive tool to help you reach into happy memories and a positive perspective on past selves, but if you find yourself reaching for more difficult rememberings please find support in your community or a mental health professional.

I encourage you to do this meditation lying down, seated, or immersed in nature and give yourself privacy and time.

Settle in with an open heart, and let’s begin.

Deeply relating to the vibrance, spontaneity, and alive nature of the flowers that grow wild, one would think that perhaps I had learned the breadth of the lessons they could teach, but on one sunny afternoon, lost among the trees, guided by a stern man who had been studying to be a park ranger “since he was 3,” the flowers had more to teach me.

Little lessons like:

• There is never just one type of “Trillium” or “Violet” but rather dozens of variations.

• Or, you don’t realize how many things grow around you until you really set your sights to look for them.

• Or maybe even, you often find the flower you most hoped to find when you stopped wanting to find it at all.

But on this particular day, something more subtle took root in my spirit.

As we were walking through the trees, following the path, eyes low to the ground, the park ranger stopped, crouched down, lifted some unsuspecting leaves, and there they were, flowers growing low to the Earth at the base of the stem, not the top!

Asarum arifolia, commonly known as Little Brown Jug, was there, showing its vibrant, waxy green leaves, and underneath, small, almost invisible, brown jug-like “flowers” grew at its base.

And in that moment, something in me was touched.

As we continued on, I started to take notice that the Little Brown Jug wasn’t the only of its kind; in fact, on this one hike, we learned of at least three more flower variations that grow their flowers below or underneath their leaves.

Not only that, on the very last mile of the hike, with shaky legs and winded lungs, we again found ourselves at a full stop. As Park Ranger Brown crouched and lifted a leaf to reveal something fascinating: a beautiful, larger than most would enjoy, Fishing Spider. A litter critter, minding its own, beneath a leaf, only spotted by a man with a love for all things of the forest.

While a seemingly non-spectacular moment, these fascinating revelations whispered to me softly,

Then it all came into focus.

Of the hundreds of hikes I have taken since I was a little girl, never once have I wondered if wildflowers could grow beneath a leaf or spotted a spider hiding so well in plain sight. It was only when a man took the time in his day to slow us down and show us something new that I was able to witness new beauty.

Two inspirations for the experience of one.

Firstly, there is more to slowing down than nervous system regulation and witnessing your inner wisdom. Another beautiful, powerful gift of slowing down is that you will most certainly always find something new in places you thought had nothing left to teach you.

In the slowdown, you look with more curiosity, sometimes boredom, and often a new perspective - everything is just a little less blurry.

Secondly, this is why sharing your knowledge, passion, creativity, and enthusiasm is so vital to community health and growth. I would have never known when, where, how, or why to look beneath leaves for beautiful treasures if Park Ranger Brown had not gotten low to the Earth and gently pulled them to the side. His knowledge inspired awe and wonder, even if, to him, this revelation existed in the mundane, and for that I am deeply grateful.

Today’s writing is part of the Teachings from the Forest series.
A string of short and potent writings that have lived in the ether around me like seeds all bursting to bloom all at once. All of these writings are inspired by the trees, rivers, flowers, bees, rocks, and dust-covered trails of the forest. So gather your most creative, open self, lace up your hiking shoes, and we shall journey into the trees to begin.

Every single person who menstruates will experience their cycle differently. Some severe cramps, others waves of emotion, and some nary an effect in site.
All responses from each unique body and its unique experience in the world.

So this meditation isn’t for “one type” of menstruation symptoms or another, but instead an invitation and a space for those bleeding to tap in with their body, their comfort, and their needs in honor of connecting with themselves.

Depending on what you need today, you can do this meditation lying down, walking, seated, or immersed in nature.

Settle in with an open heart, and let’s begin.

At this very moment, I am holding two very opposing energies and figuring out what the hell to do with them.

On one hand, I am a writer, creative, and passionate person who knows that sharing and storytelling are part of my essence and my unique expression, while on the other hand, I have been trained and molded to believe that all things worth doing must breed success, either in attention or money.

This isn’t some article set to focus on my whoas as a creative; that story has been told and wrung out since the beginning of time, but rather this is an opening into honest reflection on what it feels like to be so split by something so powerful and so lovely.

The real raw truth is that I am pissed.

I am pissed that when I write something meaningful and fundamentally moving, it receives 10 likes.

BUT I am even more pissed, frustrated, and ashamed that I even care at all!

I burst forth from the womb with a lot to say and a love of life.
That is what writing, creating, and sharing are for me,
and it grinds the very gears I run on,
that I have allowed the belief that quantity, visibility, and profitability are some secret code to unlocking my external security on this Earth.

I am pissed about it.

Present Day Reflection

I am not so pissed now.

Rather than rooting in the mud and sinking to the depths of the forlorn artist, I shall instead shift that belief (even if it takes every bone in my mindfulness body).

My new belief, should I fully embody the challenge, goes as such

• When I create new things, I step into my highest self

• When I share things, I detach from the possible outcomes

• When I am at my highest self and detached from outcomes, my work has the greatest impact…even when I never see it

• Where there is joy, there is magic, and where there is magic, there is a path forward

The next step in self-coaching myself through this new belief is to explore HOW I plan to make this shift stick. So here is what we have so far:

• Every time I sit down to create, I ask myself, “What message am I trying to share?” or “What do I desire to create?” instead of “Who is this for, or how does this make sense?”

• When the post is posted, and the sharing is done, I want to counteract that energy with something grounding. Going for a walk, dropping into a meditation, cooking a meal. Anything that puts meaningful space between me and the work (not just scrolling on my phone).

• DO THE SUBCONSCIOUS WORK! Through meaningful repetition, my beliefs will eventually shift, but to achieve the greatest impact and sustain the change, something has to shift within my mind. Somewhere in the deep filing cabinet of my mind lives a file of all the recorded times the old belief of production, success, and visibility lives, and it’s time to replace that with a much more updated one.

The tool I use for subconscious work that has changed my life here.

I set my hopes and dreams on looking up a year or even 6 months from now, and have a completely shifted relationship with this platform, my art, and even the way I dream about what success looks like in my life.

Tune in to find out where we end up.

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In the midst of all the strenuous movement, immersion in nature, and inspiration from learning new things about the Earth, a soft knowing became a clear and present certainty.

On mile 4.5 of the 6-mile hike, a wave of creativity and inspiration crashed over me in a way that felt familiar, yet fresh.

With no laptop to begin working on, I dug my phone from the bottom of my bag, which usually stays tucked away on adventures, and began fervently jotting down every note as it rushed through my mind, catching all the lessons, inspirations, and ideations, and they swirled around.

Thus, Teachings from the Forest begins. A string of short and potent writings that have lived in the ether around me like seeds all bursting to bloom all at once. There is no set end to this, but rather a knowing of what grows from the forest, and what needs to sprout separately.

The first writing will follow this introductory article shortly, as these epiphanies are eager to dance out in the world. From there, Teachings from the Forest will trickle over time, woven in with the other writings and workings of Journey Home Healing.

So gather your most creative, open self, lace up your hiking shoes, and we shall journey into the trees to begin.

You see, a life in motion isn’t for the faint of heart, no matter how majestic we content creators try to make it. Life on the road, especially in a big rig like the one we opted for, comes with its fair share of unique and character-refining challenges.

From the confined shared space, planning months in advance where you will be staying, triple-checking every highway route for possible detours, to secret costs and lopsided campgrounds that make your house just unlevel enough to leave you a bit uneasy, it is an active-as-can-be lifestyle. There is always something to be considered.

And the first month definitely felt that way.

We were constantly in awe that we were getting to do this, and also often wondering why something felt just smidge “off". Like the vision wasn’t quite meeting the reality, but not in a directly negative way, just a “hmmm, this is a lot of effort to still feel like we are sitting in traffic and spending money on random things all week like we did ‘back home’.”

There was a longing for the backcountry of Colorado and getting lost among its trails.

And then, we pulled into our first state park site of the trip.
Not a RV park in a tourist town, like we had been at, but instead a haven of nature protected and stewarded by nature lovers alike, and that is when it all finally clicked.

We pulled into our spot and just knew that we had found the magic.

We’ve been at Fall Creek Falls State Park for almost a week now, and we’ve left the park once.
The entire time we were out, we itched to get back.

Since arriving, each day has been inviting us to slow down, put our feet in the grass, and take a “casual” (or not-so-casual) hike in the afternoon.
That connection and calling from all that surrounds us has nourished the part of my soul that was wondering what this was all for.

Of course, I have decided to let this be a reminder that proximity to nature is as powerful as all the research says it is, and that that proximity is a privilege.
The stark difference in how it felt to be close to nature in Hot Springs, AR, to how it feels to be IN nature here in Tennessee is palpable and potent.

So, I let this reminding be an invitation to you, to
open a new browser,
look at your calendar,
pick some dates,
book a campsite or cabin,
pack the car,
and go get lost.

Nothing fancy, nothing complicated, just accessible and with intention.

Let the quiet evening unravel you.
The laughter of families at play lighten you.
Let the exhaustion of adventure remind you that you are alive.

And then observe how you have been transformed on the other side.

That message is beauty.

It’s joy, it’s hope, it’s radical self-love, it’s a beckoning of community work.

Just as near the Poison Ivy, the Jewelweed grows, a natural antidote to the oils on the skin, joy grows prolifically alongside turmoil.

Thus, this meditation is born.

For when you are feeling heavy, burdened, discouraged, or disconnected, calling in what is beautiful is the antidote.

Depending on what you need today, you can do this meditation lying down, walking, seated, or immersed in nature. We will call in all that is beautiful around you and within you and let it be medicine to your nervous system and …

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The movement of the energy all around us and its unique ability to be the most beautiful while also the most transitory.

That wave of emotion, urgency, & the unknown all dive through the nervous system like a swarm of bees or a school of fish.

But oh, how precious.

In the same sense, the cycle of hormones, or the disruption of them, can feel just as magnificent as it may be unsettling.

The creation of new life, both in babies being made and in bodies shedding, rocks the way of knowing, of being, and of interpreting the world around you.

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Not the millions of things that try to sell you the magic.

You are the guide.

Not the people who sell you their insight.

You are the teacher and the student of your own life.

Not the guru sitting atop the mountain.

An interesting thing about becoming a nationally certified integrative life coach is I am not being trained to be the expert at all. I am not there to assume, provide advice, diagnose, or even encourage clients.

The most critical belief a successful coach can have is that their clients, in an ideal world, wouldn’t even need them at all. It is not because we aren’t skilled, trained, and smart people, it is because, if the world were different and people had the space and security to spend more time bored and with themselves, they would all come to realize, just as a coach already knows, that every single thing they need in order to live a full, magical, memorable, and aligned life is fully and inescapably already within them.

Every belief that needs tending, shadow that needs illuminating, motivation that needs initiation, it’s all there.

So when the ads keep flashing telling you to buy more, spend more, be more, do more, the invitation should rather be, spend nothing, do nothing, be nothing.

That is yoga, that is presence, that is meditation. That is where your magic lives.

It feels so abstract to “be nothing".” What does being nothing mean?!
You are a human made of flesh and bone and matter.
You have a brain and a heart and even a liver!
HOW CAN YOU BE NOTHING IF YOU ARE SOMETHING?!

You are alive, that is true. But think for a moment of all the things that you “are.”
A mother? A friend? A boss? A procrastinator? A slow thinker? A quick talker?
Think about what all of that means for you.

To be a mother, you care for LITERALLY other humans with your entire heart and soul.
A friend, to be attentive, present, and communicative with your actions.
A boss, timely, clear, direct, and constantly evolving.
A procrastinator, apologetic, anxious, catching up on sleep.
You get the idea.

You are so many things - what if, for just a moment, you were nothing?
Not a person who takes care of other people.
Not a person who worries about when the next thing will inevitably come.
Not anything.

Sitting in the nothingness. No need to rush, to complete, to compete, to analyze.
What if, for just a moment, you allowed yourself to spend nothing, do nothing,

be nothing?

Then the idea becomes less abstract.
It becomes more tangible.
And all of a sudden, you have tapped into a part of you that is clear of all programming, all shame, all expectation, and all burden.

You find yourself in a place within yourself that has room to create, dream, rest, and reshape. That is where the magic lives.

That is where you will know with full certainty that you are the magic.

Something slimy and oozy and oh so gummy must be stuck in the gears.

Between the thirty-day writing challenge and the work of creating yoga and meditation content, I found myself unable to produce anything of note. Not working on my mail newsletter, being inspired by REELs on my feed, or squeezing one poem or short story through the goo.

I could blame it on the desire to monetize some of my work, though I know it will eventually be part of how I build my dreams.

I could blame it on the travel schedule and demands of being a nomad, but who am I kidding? With some proper time management, I have more free time than god herself.

No its something stickier.
Something trickier.
Something squishing through the gaps of all the self-confidence I have worked so hard to embody.

It is something far more relatable, tangible, and powerful than any fleeting self-doubt or desire to rage against the machine and suffer for my art.

What sticks and clings and forces itself to be known is that all too real worry that all this effort, all this passion, all this creativity is for nothing. That no one will care, and the world will keep turning.

That my too muchness will marry my not enough-ness and leave me vulnerable and right back “where I started.”

But fear not.

Just as you are reading this quick writing of the day, so have I begun to clear the goop once again. After years of trial and error and the knowing of the all-too-familiar feelings, I have concocted my “work-without-fail” goo remover.

The recipe for me:

• 3 days in a row of To Be Magnetic meditations (minimum)

• Letting myself rest - either with extra sleep or less activity in the day

• More time in nature.

  • Touching trees, swimming, hiking, laying in the grass are all options here.

• Tell someone or multiple someones about the sticky feeling

• A nasty journal entry followed by a beautiful one

• “Just sit down and start” after all of the above, works magic

A mix of all or some of these is sure to at least give those gears a little more room to turn, and before you know it, you look up, and you’ve got a fully written newsletter, three REELS scheduled, and a Substack post ready to send and all the silly little goblins in the back of your mind have been quieted once again.

For every single quality video you see online, there are days or weeks or more of planning, prep, execution, and magic. And that is exactly what I felt when making my first yoga video for this Substack.

From rushing across town because I forgot equipment at home to getting bad feedback on my mic anytime I moved from one pose to another, making this video was a true work of love and drive & I wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is not a perfect yoga video.

And maybe that’s exactly why it matters.

The act of sharing this practice in all its “beginner video creation-ness” is part of something much bigger — Part of creating accessible mind-body practices that center journeying within, simple grounding principles, and creativity for creativity’s sake.

To cut out the noise of consumption, western beauty standards, body shaming, and outrageous cost, opening up a world of limitless possibilities and a pathway towards healing the inner self for anyone who seeks it.

If you choose to join that journey in practice, hold the first few videos with grace and an open heart and know that it truly only gets better from here.

And maybe that’s exactly why it matters.

The act of sharing this practice in all it’s “beginner video creation-ness” is part of something much bigger.

A return. A remembering. A coming back to the purpose, one breath, one shape, one moment at a time.

In this 40-minute Hatha Vinyasa yoga flow, you’ll be guided through a grounded, intentional practice that blends slow strength-building holds (Hatha yoga) with gentle, mindful flow (Vinyasa flow). This is a space to explore your body with curiosity, not perfection.

Whether you’re brand new to yoga or returning to your mat after time away, this practice meets you where you are. You’ll be encouraged to modify, pause, rest, and listen inward every step of the way.

This is yoga for real life.
For the messy middle.
For the version of you that is still becoming.

What to expect:

• 40-minute full body yoga flow

• Hatha + Vinyasa style blend

• Beginner-friendly with options to deepen

• Focus on alignment, breath, and mindful movement

• …

Read more

And then we saw it.
A small sign sticking from the fresh Earth.

Dozen Fresh Eggs $5

“FIVE DOLLARS - what a steal, maybe we should drive back down here and get that phone number after we are settled.”

And then down the road we went.

Only a few short miles later, we saw it.
A small sign sticking from the fresh Earth.

”Dozen eggs $5 $4”

“FOUR DOLLARS - well, that is wild! They are keeping it competitive around here. It would be crazy to keep driving and come across some for $3- we laughed”

And again down the road we went.

A few short miles later, we found ourselves settling into our spot for the week.
Parking the trailer, pulling out the slide, and putting the kitchen back together after a jostling ride.
No small sign sticking from the fresh Earth with farm-fresh eggs for $3.

Until a few hours later,

As we wandered the amenities of the peaceful plot of land, I mozied into the little red barn open for guests to do laundry and take a warm shower,

and there it was.

A fridge full of canned goods, cold drinks, and you guessed it…

“Farm Fresh Eggs $3/dozen"

There is surely some kind of lesson in this.
Whether it be that when one door closes, another more aligned door shall open.

Or maybe not to rush into the first thing that sounds like it might be the right fit when you know that something better may be just around the corner.

Or, probably the most grounded of the options, sometimes you pass on things not really knowing if there is anything better, more affordable, or more aligned. You just drive past without too much thought, and then suddenly, you are in the presence of a blessing you never could have known would be there.

A third option to break open your dual-thinking mind.

We ended up purchasing 3 dozen eggs. One for us and two for a friend.

A blessing indeed.

A land barren of forestry, rich in open starry nights
A peaceful yet rugged place where the nomads wandered long ago

& somewhere in that openness, when I closed my eyes,
I could see them

Swaying above my head, rooted deep into the Earth, carrying the wisdom of decades and centuries.
The trees.
Elsewhere.

Not in the field or near the canyons.

but steady along the river, dense in the forest, and taller than any warrior man. Rich in greens and browns.

The trees called to me in my sleep and in my soul.

Their nature moves within me.

An embodiment of rooted strength and the steady growth of time.

With each return to the plains, no matter how rich that time may be, there is rarely a moment when I don’t long to sit beneath their shade or run my hand along their aging bark.

So I move closer. Each step guiding me and pulling me to where the trees are.

Where I feel most at home.

Stay tuned to Journey Home Healing for a new Yoga & Meditation library launching in the coming weeks!

This library will be available to all paid subscribers ($5/month) and will include a range of styles and levels for people at all stages of life. If there’s anything you would love to see sooner rather than later, let me know!

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