A small shore for those of us who live a little too much in our minds.
I've spent too many years living inside my own head, letting the waves pile up until I lost sight of the shore. So I started writing. Putting the storm into words makes it tangible — it moves what's trapped in my head onto the page, where I can finally see it, instead of just drowning. This is me starting to move.
If you're someone, anyone who's been living a little too much in their head — you're welcome here. There's nothing to subscribe to, nothing to do. Only, perhaps, to remember the value already in you.
Meeting the wave as it rises — the hard ones, the doubting ones, even the big waves of ideas — without drowning in them.
Letting the storm out of my head and onto the page, where I can finally see it — and act on it, instead of just dwelling.
Returning, gently, to who I am — learning to see myself with love. Loved exactly where I am, and too much to stay there.
I'm a mom who's been living a little too much in my own head. This is me starting to move — one wave, one word, one wrong-made-right at a time.
Still looking for a way to spread hope and love through tuna cans.
Four years ago a bird sang and everything changed — and what I'd like to tell that woman now.
Once a month, maybe less. A short letter from the shore — no pressure, no preaching. Read it, leave it, or save it for a hard day.