why i take solo trips
not to escape, but to recharge
About 25–27% of Americans annually have taken or considered taking a solo leisure trip, according to travel survey data in 2024. So in a world where so many people travel independently, why is it still common to receive eyebrow raises and inquisitive looks from others when checking in as a party of one? I’m sure most of them think it’s “cool”, but I cannot help but wonder how many of them think it must mean I’m lonely, or that there is no way they could ever do that. How sad for them! Taking myself on vacation has been something I have done several times over the years, and I find my desire to do so growing stronger as I get older (and wiser). Do you like travelling alone?
There was a time following the the death of my first husband in 2019 where I was unwillingly forced into life without my “plus one”, and that was the definition of heartbreaking loneliness. Anywhere that felt centered around couples only seemed to magnify the grief, so I found myself steering clear of those kinds of trips and gatherings. Thankfully, I’ve been blessed with the very best daughter, my favorite travel buddy, who loves adventure just as much as I do. Together we’ve created some the most incredible memories, even in those tender years after our loss.
Fast forward 7 years, and I am now incredibly blessed to be married to an amazing man who not only supports my occasional need to travel solo, but actually encourages me to take the time away that I need. He honors that the experience will be much more than a getaway for me, but a chance to engage in soul-searching and introspection. As much as I love being a wife and mom, or being social and connecting with others, I am an empath and sensitive soul to my core. My emotional batteries can get depleted very quickly depending on the energy around me, and it is important that I find time to quietly refuel in places and circumstances that calm my nervous system, allow mental processing, and spark creativity. I am sure many of you reading this can relate.
So two weeks ago, in response to that quiet nudge in my spirit, I booked a spontaneous trip to recharge and exhale on the beaches (and poolside loungers) of Ft. Myers, Florida….and that’s where the spark for this post was born. From the moment I rolled my carry-on into my waterfront room at the inn I could feel the energy shift and the “weights” I was carrying lift from my shoulders. A smile permanently etched itself on my face for the next 4 days as I lost myself in long walks up and down the beachfront, indulged daily in my new favorite chicken and waffle breakfast, and danced barefoot in my room as I carefully chose my outfit for the day. The moments were magnificent, the warmth of the sun nourished my skin and my soul, and the happy tears and gratitude flowed effortlessly.
It just so happened that the week I was on my vacay marked the end of the Wood Snake Year and the start of the Fire Horse year on the Chinese calendar. I have been fascinated to learn more about this transition, as it resonates with my soul so deeply. This past year has been one of complete “shedding” of old layers. Things that do not serve me anymore have been removed, like alcohol, former jobs, identities I was clinging too, and even deep-seated wounds I didn’t know were there. SO much processing has occurred that at times it has felt like I’ve been left open and raw, exposed to even more hurts and vulnerabilities. As a result, with the promise of the horse year ushering in newness and fresh starts, I found myself wrapped up in longing for the completeness of the cycle. This past year has reshaped so much of my life; choosing sobriety and living more intentionally, watching a new identity rise from the ashes of the old, stepping into the unfamiliar season of empty-nest parenting, and building a business that reflects who I’m becoming. These have been massive shifts….and I finally feel ready to settle into them instead of bracing against them. Untethered by past hurts and failures, unashamed to celebrate who I am and the work I have done, and unapologetic about the lofty goals and dreams I have for my life and the impact I will make on others.
Therefore, while on my solo trip I welcomed the transition with a carefree spirit. I went where I pleased, smiled at strangers and struck up conversations in the hotel hot tub. I picked a single barstool in the back corner to eat my breakfast and people watch, and followed Google maps to a local ice cream shop for the biggest sundae I’d ever seen. I even discovered a very nice beach chair that had been tossed aside due to a broken leg and happily made it usable during my trip by breaking the other one (leaving it behind before I left to be found by the next lucky beach-goer who was in need of one)!
Most importantly, I gave myself the quiet space in my mind to work on what I needed to, opening the pathways for God to speak clearly to me in the stillness. Walking on the beach one day I started to giggle as I had the most wonderful memories flood my mind. Memories that also left a residue of pain, so those needed to be worked through, cried through, and gently released. Another day, while strolling the boardwalk, I had a powerful moment reflecting on my role as a mother and how it has changed this past year, albeit in such a beautiful and necessary way. I have cherished each and every moment raising my daughter, teaching her and watching her grow. Even the season of intense grieving together brought us closer and being a present mother was my highest purpose at the time. And now, after helping her launch from the nest and into young adulthood and college life, I can rest in this different sort of nest, and can relish in the beautiful new relationship that we are forming. A relationship where I can still have an active role in her life while watching her spread her wings, but also to spread my own wings in a new sort of way. After much reflection, I realized that I was feeling undeserving of doing that, not giving myself the permission to spread my wings, and therefore causing more unease than was necessary. The shift and inner healing that occurred as I worked through those feelings was worth the trip 100 times over.
The moral of the story? Travelling alone is not lonely if you don’t allow it to be. It can be a chance to ignite and to be inspired. To explore and to energize. To reflect and release.
And on an equally important level, to return home to the loving arms of your family, and be fully present in the life that God has blessed you with.
Book the trip…take the time away. You’ll be glad you did. I’d love to hear stories in the comments of your favorite solo trip you’ve taken, or are planning!
Keep thriving:)
nighttime nesting
There are a plethora of wonderful mindsets and mantras out there for making the most of your morning (the 5 a.m. club, make your bed, “wake and win”). However, there is a period of time at the end of the previous day that is not given near enough importance, in my opinion. And I’m not just talking about the things recommended to do to prepare for sleep; ie don’t eat after 9 p.m., take a warm bath, no screens an hour before bed, etc. Instead, what I’m referring to are the quiet moments of calming preparation at the end of the day. Call it “nighttime nesting”…if you will.
My reasons for participating in these rituals are not purely for the checking of boxes, but a powerful contribution to regulating my nervous system–something I went most of my life without knowing how to do. Always on edge, jumpy, anxious, scattered, the feeling of being unsettled often. These are just some of the ways a dysregulated nervous system shows up in the body, meaning it’s not just all in your head. The term “feeling fried” seems very appropriate when describing the feeling of having loose electrical wires flailing about from your core, ready to zap and short-circuit everything at a moment’s notice!
One explanation states: A dysregulated nervous system means your body’s stress response (fight-or-flight/freeze) gets stuck on high alert or shuts down, failing to return to calm after threats, leading to anxiety, exhaustion, numbness, irritability, poor sleep, and heightened reactions to minor stressors. It’s an imbalance between the sympathetic (stressed) and parasympathetic (rest) systems, often caused by chronic stress, trauma, burnout, or sensory overload, manifesting as feeling constantly overwhelmed or completely disconnected.
Basically…just by being a human in the chaotic world we live in makes it difficult to stay regulated, especially if you are a sensitive being, like myself. Adding to the complexity of it, people who have experienced trauma can have altered brain structures like the hippocampus and prefrontal cortex, and heightened stress responses, making it even more difficult to identify a safe event from an unsafe one. (If you feel that your nervous system issues stem from traumatic events or other mental-health struggles, please seek counsel. The recommendations below are not intended to replace professional help.)
The good news is, there are things you can do for your nervous system, ways to nurture a sense of peace and contentment (which you may have thought was unattainable up until now). But as I can attest, by integrating small, purposeful moments into your routine at the right times, you can begin to foster a sense of safety that will allow your nervous system to slow down, and slowly heal. One of the more important implementations for me has been to cultivate a very intentional evening, full of rituals that bring grounding and familiarity.
Here are some of the ways I lay my day to rest…so that my mind and body can too:
- Take time to tidy the main living space-as I begin to end the day, I spend several minutes repositioning the throw pillows and neatly folding the blankets on the sofa in our living room. I straighten the coffee table, clear clutter from the end tables, and make sure to leave the space visually appealing for the next day. It’s a peaceful, rhythmic routine that brings closure, but also creates a welcoming space for the following morning when I curl up with my devotionals and sip my nootropic coffee. Win-win!
- Write your to-do list for the following day-I write out the routine things I will do in the morning (including devotionals and exercising), and any pressing tasks I know have to get done, or that I would like to happen. By putting them down on paper, they are out of my mind, and waiting for me where (and when) they belong.
- Listen to white noise-before and during sleep, white noise provides a constant, balanced blend of all audible frequencies, which effectively “washes out” or masks sudden, distracting sounds, creating a more stable and predictable sound environment for the brain.
- Create a “shut down” routine-while this might look different for someone who suffers with OCD, for me, having a systematic order for locking the exterior doors, putting electronics to sleep, and turning off lights allows me to say goodnight to our home, and to rest assured (literally!) that all is buttoned up.
- Choose a bedtime scent-sometimes this can be achieved in a warm bath with lavender infused Epsom salts, but even on the nights when I don’t soak I still like to take time to smell the roses, so to speak. In addition to lavender there are other particular ones associated with sleep, like chamomile, sandalwood, and Jasmine. However, it can be any scent that brings you into the present, and that signals to your brain that it’s time to relax.
- Engage in physical touch-whether it’s a long hug standing in the kitchen at the end of the day with my husband, or stroking my daughter’s hair while I say goodnight, or snuggling with my pup before putting him in his crate…spending a few minutes engaged in physical connection with a loved one calms and grounds the nervous system and releases the feel-good hormones oxytocin (the “cuddle hormone”) dopamine, and serotonin, promoting bonding, happiness, and relaxation. It simultaneously reduces cortisol, (the primary stress hormone), leading to lower blood pressure, reduced anxiety, and improved immune function. Talk about being ready for bed!
By practicing some of these rituals, and creating your own, not only will you give yourself the gift of a better night’s sleep, but over time you will signal to your nervous system that it is safe enough to truly rest. Once you achieve that level of equilibrium, a good night’s sleep will take on whole new meaning, and it is the most wonderful thing you can do for yourself!
I’d love to hear the ways you nest at night…won’t you share? :)
the grooves on a record
The idea for this post began forming when I came across the most fascinating electron-microscope image of a stylus sitting in the groove of a vinyl record (shown above). Up close the grooves look patterned, but messy, and to imagine the stylus dragging across them makes it hard to believe that it could produce anything other than chaos. As I gazed at it, I suddenly had a message swelling up in my heart. But in order to begin, the science-nerd in me first wanted to know more. Thanks to a quick ChatGPT search, I found an easy-to-understand description of how a record player works:
- A vinyl record has tiny grooves spiraling from the outside to the center. Inside those grooves are microscopic bumps and wiggles…the tiny imperfections carved into its surface that represent the sound waves of the music.
- As the needle (stylus) moves over those bumps and wiggles, it vibrates fast, and those vibrations match the shape of the original sound waves.
- The stylus is attached to a tiny device called a cartridge, which transforms its vibrations into an electrical signal.
- The tiny signal goes through an amplifier, which boosts it enough to be heard.
- The speakers convert that electrical signal back into vibrating air—what our ears recognize as music!
Now that we are all just a little bit smarter (wink wink;), I will share with you the sentiment that this stirs in my heart.
From the moment we are born we have experiences that shape us, leaving a trail of “grooves” on our soul. In these grooves are where the bumps and wiggles are formed. The etchings of the ups and downs in our lives. Every smile, every tear, every joy, and every loss deposits their distinct mark, and holds within them every high note, low note, and quiet moment in between.
As time passes and the needle of life glides across the imperfect surface, it turns every ridge, every valley, and every uneven moment into something meaningful… something powerful… something worth listening to. Without those bumps and wiggles, there would be no sound at all.
It’s the growth that gives your life rhythm.
It’s the challenges that give your story depth.
It’s the imperfections that give you your song.
Your life is your opus. A collection of compositions that are written in a variety of timbres and tempos. Every sorrowful lament, inspiring anthem, and jubilant march. The soundtrack of our existence would be quite dull without this range, and would otherwise indicate a life without richness, without growth, and without love. For to know a life of richness, you must know scarcity. To experience growth, you must experience pain. And to live a life full of love, there is the certainty of loss.
Therefore, let us embrace both the trials and the triumphs, trusting the Composer of our lives as He places the bumps and wiggles exactly where they belong. He is crafting a breathtaking opus…one we can hear only if we quiet ourselves enough to truly listen. And the beauty of His work doesn’t end with us. The melody we leave behind will echo long after we’re gone, giving others something to dance to, to cry to, and to be moved by in ways words could never fully express.
“The grooves that life carves into us are the very lines that compose the beautiful melody of our soul.”
a November to remember
This November will be different.
Prior to starting this post, I was reflecting on Novembers-past. As expected, last year’s comes to mind first. Yesterday, Nov 1st, marked the one year anniversary of the day my teenage daughter and I moved into the lake house with my husband. At that time, he and I had already been married for 3 months and still living seperately….so it was definitely a joyous and welcomed move! However, it brought with it a sort of chaos that is hard to describe, and during an already chaotic holiday season, it was a period of deep personal struggle for me.
Big life changes are always challenging, and more so when there are multiple ones at once. Between Nov 2023 and Nov 2024 I had helped my fiancé (now husband) move out of his home and into his new digs on the water, planned (and celebrated) our amazing wedding, embarked on the surname change that would end up taking me well over a year to complete, dealt with my husband’s sudden job loss, and sold my home and moved so that our family could be under one roof. Keep in mind that there were also 3 dogs in the picture, and you can only imagine how high the stress level was! If that wasn’t enough, my daughter was in the beginning of her senior year of high school and college admission was in full swing. Size-wise we were squeezing our previous combined 6100 sq ft of living space into our now 2300 sq ft of humble abode. No matter how much time we spent unpacking, sorting, and settling in, it took us over a month to clear enough space from floors and counters to feel any sense of comfort. As a result, November became a blip on the radar, and while we were trying our best to do the necessary fall nesting (see previous post), it was not peaceful in any way. Husband and wife, houses, high school, holidays…you get the picture.
Don’t get me wrong, my life has included plenty of wonderful Novembers, filled with many things to be grateful for. I’ve always loved Thanksgiving (a time dedicated to focusing on our blessings), spending many of them taking enjoyable trips to Texas to be with my family! But overall, the holiday season for me has equaled an overactive squirrel brain, stressed out nervous system, and an easy excuse for overindulgence. Food, drink, shopping… you name it. In my attempt to calm the storm brewing inside of me, I reached for what I thought would comfort me. But it never truly did. If anything, it only deepened the ache.
The months after the holidays came and went, yet I still felt lost. I was unfulfilled in my work, trying to stay strong as my husband dealt with the loss of a friend and then his father, and dealing with new waves of grief surrounding the death of my first husband in 2019. As our daughter stepped closer to high school graduation and adulthood, her dad’s absence was felt in a new and painful way. It was all becoming more than I could bear.
But God had other plans for me. In the spring, some pieces of my life started to come together, while others were shattered. But each step and stumble was necessary to lay the foundation of what would become my fertile field. Growth was on the horizon, and a new season was coming. So I repeat….this November will be different.
Those seeds I mentioned, they started very small. Planted out of desperation at first, but over time they’ve grown into something deeper – a fulfilling mission to uncover my purpose and discover what God intends to harvest from my life. Anchored in that fertile soil of necessary change, now each day it’s the smallest choices, the minuscule yet meaningful ones, that make all the difference. Moment by moment, minute by minute, seed by seed. Does this mean that there are no challenges in life right now? Not at all. Our home remodel plans are still in a holding pattern. Job situations are in flux. We are figuring out life as empty-nesters and supporting our daughter on her life’s adventure. But the soil is rich, the roots are deep, and God is our Master Gardener. So this November, I am staying rooted. Rooted in grace. Rooted in peace. Rooted in my purpose and my WHY. Rooted in Christ and trusting in His will for my life.
I’d love to share a few of the changes and choices that shaped where I am today. And since I’m a list lover at heart, here are some of the seeds I’ve been planting in my own Garden of Eden:
- Today marks 5 months free from alcohol. This was NOT a miniscule choice, but a life-altering shift that has enabled me to be fully present….for myself, for my loved ones, and for my Savior. I used to reach for a glass to unwind; now I reach for peace, prayer, and purpose.
- I begin each day with intention. Whether I have 1 minute or 1 hour, I warm up my cup of Mojo, throw open the curtains to welcome the day, and spend time in the Living Word of Scripture.
- I started my own business. Backed by a company with strong values, a supportive community, and life-changing products, I am flourishing and stepping boldly into what I was meant to do.
- I started writing again. This blog has become my space to share my story, and my testimony, with anyone willing to listen. My hope is simple: that the pieces of my journey, the lessons learned, and the way I’ve come to see the world might make even one person’s day a little brighter.
- I trust myself. If I feel like digging in the dirt, I do it. When I think of a friend I’d like to see, I call them. If I’m needing a hug from a loved one, I ask for it. I have stopped second-guessing what I should or shouldn’t do and instead trust my inner instinct and the gentle nudges from God. Life has gotten a lot simpler with this mindset, and I spend a lot less time ruminating or wallowing in self-doubt.
- I see a therapist…regularly! Having a trusted professional who also shares my strong faith has been life-saving for me. I credit her greatly with the growth I have been able to achieve and the shedding of old layers that have weighed me down for so long.
- I create space for what is important to me. Our time is precious, and when we are trying to be everything and everywhere, burnout is inevitable. Living with intention means taking the time to understand the role something (or someone) has in our lives, and then deciding how much of our energy we give to it.
- I LOVE myself. I have carefully cultivated a self-love that cannot be broken. I love what I stand for. And I wear my crown as the daughter of the King with my head held high.
This November will be different. This holiday season will be filled with peace. The stormy seas of my life have settled into calmer waters, and I can finally see clearly into the distance. Now I begin to reap the harvest…watching God’s plan for my life unfold, one intentional step at a time. I am learning patience. I am walking in purpose. And I am going “all in” on what this beautiful month has in store.
May your November (and every month that follows) find you grounded in grace, rooted in peace, and open to the quiet miracles that bloom when you trust in God’s timing.
the art of nesting
preparing your heart and home for the season ahead
It is undeniable-the moment when fall arrives.
It is not a date on the calendar, but a feeling.
One mid-September day you are observing the lingering flecks of summer…the flies lazily buzzing around, the life jackets and lake toys still cluttering up the garage, the flip-flops by the backdoor. The next thing you know, you wake to an amber colored sun just above the horizon, positioned slightly more to the south than it was before. You step out onto the deck and are met with a chill in the air that makes your hairs stand on end. And thankfully, most of the bugs have given up their fight and there is a stillness all around, creating space in your mind to reflect. This is when we know fall has made its debut.
Right up until this seasonal passing of the baton, I still deny that it will come. For most of my life I have been troubled by seasonal affective disorder (aptly referred to as SAD) during the transitional phases in the latter part of the year. My body and mind are deeply sensitive to the rhythms of the Earth, and during these shifts my moods, sleep patterns, and energy levels are dramatically affected. For years it went unexplained and I suffered through it-until, during my intense phase of holistic healing from several autoimmune conditions, I came across the book Staying Healthy with the Seasons by Elson M. Haas. The information contained within was pivotal in helping me understand why I was experiencing the feelings and symptoms that I was, and practical ways to work with them and not against them. Instead of holding on for dear life while the world continues to spin with or without our consent, we can embrace the changes that are happening around us…and within us.
It really isn’t a difficult concept if you think about it. All the things of the Earth know what to do. The trees shed their leaves to redirect the nutrients to their trunks and roots and enter a state of dormancy for the cold months ahead. The microbial activity of the soil slows down to conserve energy through the winter, and Jack Frost even lends a helping hand with a layer of snow and ice to act as a blanket until spring arrives. The shorter days and longer nights of the season (that we humans complain about) give living things the natural cues to rest. And the glow of fall that I love SO much…it’s largely in part to the lower angle of the sun that changes the color and mood and creates softness. Gosh, when you think about all of that, how can you not love this season!?! Well, I think it’s because it is a radical shift from the hustle and bustle of summer! Because let’s face it, if you are not crazy busy during the summer, then something is wrong with you, right?
This brings me to the art of nesting. The very important preparatory time in which we tap on the brakes of summer and allow ourselves to slowly roll our way into the stillness of winter, instead of bring brought to a screeching halt. Fall is the time to shed our “leaves”…and our tan (insert sad-face emoji), and to draw our energy inward so to preserve it and nurture ourselves. Also, by drawing our attention to our core and our “roots” per se, we are creating inner warmth to protect our most vital body functions. While our fingertips and toes will most likely pay the frigid price at times, at least our bellies, hearts, and minds will be warm and toasty.
I have been doing a lot of reflecting on the word “nesting” lately. It was undeniable that in the month leading up to dropping my daughter off at college I was in full on nesting mode. However, it wasn’t until I noticed that I had literally created a nest in her room that the concept even crossed my mind. The boxes and bags and bedding had piled so high that all it needed was some mud, sticks, and feathers and an ostrich could have bedded down (do ostriches create nests??). All of the lists, planning, and purchasing seemed a bit much, but it was my maternal instinct kicking in to ensure that my baby girl was set up for success in her new phase of life. I was creating a physical and metaphorical nest of warmth and love for her to nestle into and gain strength, the same way I did just before she was born. As designed, as soon as she spread her wings and left the nest, the pile was gone and I felt content that I had done my job.
The same holds true as we prepare ourselves for the winter that is coming. We can choose to fight it, as may be our natural response, or we can choose to lean into it, which undoubtably makes it a much more pleasant and fulfilling experience.
Here is a list of the ways that I have observed my Autumn nesting instincts kicking in:
- the intense and sudden desire to completely redecorate with pumpkins, fall leaves, and candles. I’m not gonna lie, orange is one of my least favorite colors, and not just because it represents the University of Texas (which we Aggies have dubbed t.u. ;). However, at this time of year I crave it. By surrounding ourselves with these items and their respective colors of orange, burgundy, brown, and gold, we are emulating the same gorgeous, glowy hues that nature brings to give us a feeling of warmth and peace during this season.
- the “gathering” of all outdoor items; patio furniture, Adirondack chairs, hoses, etc. Most of this we do for practical purposes so that the ice and snow do not ruin our wicker rocker, and the freezing temps do not cause our pipes to burst. But also, there is something satisfying about wiping the slate clean on our decks and lawns and neatly storing the items away for next year. Perhaps this is equivalent to shedding and gathering of leaves, because our focus will be turned to the interior of our homes as we nestle in to stay warm and cozy.
- speaking of cozy…I don’t think there are enough blankets and sweaters in the world to surround me at this time of year! Almost immediately once fall is in the air, out go the shorts and tanks and in come the sweaters and hoodies! And speaking of blankets…the plushier the better! Call these the feathers of our nest. The soft and sumptuous fabrics that soothe our rough winter skin and surround us with a soft place to land and rest our bodies, allowing them to be enveloped with comfort and a sense of security.
- SOUP SEASON!! Need I say more? I don’t know about you, but rarely do I crave soup in the summer. Yeah, yeah…I know there is such a thing as cold soup, but no thank you! Soups are for fall, when the gentle aromas and wafts of steam rise from the stockpot while the big game is on TV. The inviting colors of butternut orange, sage split pea, and cream-colored leeks prepare the palate for delicious flavors ahead. Not to mention that most all of the produce that fall and winter provide make for the most nourishing meals…flooding our bodies with nutrients that have been missing during the hubbub of summer (hamburgers and ice cream anyone?).
I could go on, but you get the idea. What a wonderful gift we give ourselves by fully succumbing to the nesting ways of fall. Each loving step we take is another pump on the brakes, slowing us down and reminding us to focus inward. By embracing these practices over the years, my experience with seasonal shifts has drastically improved. And while I may not look forward to winter as a rule, I have chosen not to fight it anymore. I have chosen to prepare for it. I have chosen to create space for it. The choice is a simple one, really.
Happy nesting :)
grocery emotions
Grocery shopping is an emotional experience for me, and has been for the past decade and a half.
Between the ages of 30 and 31 I was diagnosed with 3 autoimmune disorders, the most severe being Crohn’s disease (an inflammatory bowel disease). It came on hard and fast, and while I was blessed to get a quick diagnoses and medications to help initially, my symptoms grew worse by the day. My body could not absorb the fats and nutrients that it needed to function, and within 6 months my weight and energy levels were at a scary all time low. I had to scale back working, and struggled to find the energy to keep up with my 3 year old, let alone do household chores.
One thing I remember being extremely difficult was grocery shopping. Pushing the cart felt almost impossible, as was lifting items in and out, checking out at the register, loading the vehicle, and unloading at home. Not to mention that I was unable to eat most foods due to my digestive distress, so selecting from the shelves seemed almost a cruel joke. But I needed to feed my daughter and husband, so it was something I pushed myself to do to feel like I still was functioning in the midst of it all.
The events that followed which led to my recovery from illness, and a place of thriving today, are stories for another time. However, less than a decade after my initial diagnoses I experienced a different kind of struggle at the grocery store, this time following the sudden death of my husband. Walking those aisles after you’ve lost someone you loved and lived with is another level of pain. Certain items no longer have a place in your pantry if the person who ate them isn’t there. More than that, in the early stages of my grief a concept as simple as buying and preparing food felt impossible. This time it wasn’t due to physical incapacity, but emotional instead. I have vivid memories of standing in the grocery aisles, staring blankly at the shelves, large tears rolling down my face. I didn’t even care if anyone saw me like that (which they did), I just needed to get through it. My only motivation was making sure my daughter had food to eat, and thank God for that.
Eventually, again by the grace of God, each trip to the supermarket got a bit easier. Then a few years later, I was blessed to have a new person to shop for. Having my then-boyfriend/now-husband in my life brought a new joy to walking up and down those aisles. I smiled while selecting items to have at my house that I knew were his favorites, or purchasing road-trip snacks for the three of us to enjoy as we headed to another basketball tournament. Not only did I not dread the activity anymore, but I had a new appreciation for it.
I still get emotional when I grocery shop today, but for different reasons. Every time I swipe my credit card at the register I am filled with gratitude for the means to afford the food we eat. My eyes well with tears when I think of those who do not have enough, whose pain is actual hunger. It stops me in my tracks whenever I feel like complaining about making a shopping list or needing to search for my reusable bags. My own experiences also helped me to have a greater sense of empathy for those I cross paths with, whether at the store, in a mall, or at the post office. Sometimes, depending on the situations in our life, we are just getting by….and that goes for the people we encounter each and every day. There will always be people dealing with the loss of a loved one, fighting an illness, or feeling lost and alone. We may not be able to help every single person, but we can do our part to smile at the stranger, hold the door for the busy mom, or grab the item from the top shelf for the elderly. Every aspect of our day offers an opportunity to make someone else’s a little brighter. As someone who has needed it before, I know it can make all the difference.
threads of a beautiful life: 109 things
“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched-they must be felt with the heart.” Helen Keller
- sunset boat rides
- 3 cups of coffee instead of 2
- stealing kisses in between my husband’s meetings
- walking barefoot in the grass
- chasing frogs
- giggling with my daughter
- Target shopping sprees
- glimpses of the Northern lights from the end of a dark driveway
- preparing a guest room
- throwing open the curtains to welcome the day
- long therapy sessions full of tears and a-ha moments
- a phone call from my mom
- watching my daughter become a young woman
- Hershey’s special dark chocolate syrup (where have you been all my life?!)
- planning a surprise party
- being the recipient of a surprise party
- looking in the mirror and saying “I love you”…. and meaning it
- having my nails done in whimsical colors
- making homemade bone broth
- going to see a movie in the theater
- following a new supplement regimen
- working for a company that promotes faith, family, fun, and fueling health
- being overcome with gratitude at the grocery store for the food we eat
- entertaining guests at our home
- Sunday afternoon football games in the fall
- learning a new word
- digging for treasures in the dirt
- enjoying a mocktail on the deck while watching the birds
- freshly folded towels
- a new essential oil in my diffuser
- binge watching The Chosen on a Saturday afternoon
- watching lightning streak across the sky
- warm baths with Epsom salts and a new magazine
- joining a new Bible study
- racing my remote control car around the yard
- receiving a piece of mail that isn’t junk
- finding a dime on the sidewalk
- discovering Snapchat filters
- watching an elderly couple stroll hand in hand
- making patterns in the grass with the lawn mower
- watching a butterfly land on a wildflower
- a cool ranch Dorito covered in extra seasoning
- a phone call from my daughter at college
- chatting with my sister about having teenagers
- 4 dozen of the best chocolate chip cookies of all time
- fresh cut flowers from the farmers market
- a stack of Amazon packages on the front porch
- impromptu fireside chats with friends
- bringing home a new toy for my dog and seeing him get excited
- discovering a fun playlist
- solving a Wordle in 2 tries
- buying a new throw pillow
- an entire room of people singing praises to God
- the smell of untouched pages in a new book
- learning a new card game
- watching old home movies (and cringing at myself!)
- full paper grocery bags that make it home without ripping
- making my husband laugh
- hearing him tell me I’m cute…even when I don’t think I am
- seeing 11:11 on the clock almost every day
- the sound of a cardinal from high in the trees
- a sale on cute shoes in my size
- remembering a password
- reading from the Word of God every day
- long lunches with girlfriends
- advice from my dad
- blueprints for a new home
- curled up on the couch with my hubby watching Lego Masters and offering our expert commentary
- buying a Lego set to build with him
- random texts from a friend to ask how I’m doing
- a flyover at a sporting event
- watching someone’s face light up when I pay them a compliment
- receiving a compliment that brightens my day
- Louie wearing a Hawaiian shirt
- a cute coffee mug
- the first fall leaf on the ground
- the smell of a new shampoo
- red gummy bears
- anything to do with powerwashing!
- the first few lines written in a new journal…
- …..with a new pen
- the feeling after a good workout
- hearing the words “I miss you”
- the comfort of a long hug
- tickets to the sold-out Garth Brooks concert
- the smell after it rains
- a wave from a neighbor
- the perfect ‘messy bun’
- keeping a plant alive (by remembering to water it)
- cooking a dish that my family loves
- long conversations on long drives
- the sounds from a winning slot machine
- having my hair brushed
- the squeak of a clean window
- answering a difficult trivia question correctly
- playing catch in a swimming pool
- finding commonality with people I just met
- changing into comfy clothes after a long day
- a spontaneous walk around the lake
- Christmas traditions with my family
- my color-coded day planner
- test driving a new vehicle
- the blessing of time, which heals all wounds
- hearing the words “I love you”
- saying the words “I love you”
- surrendering control of my life to God
- a good night’s sleep
- 109 days of sobriety
- readers like you, who I can share my heart with
how to: overthink in a hammock swing
While pondering what to name this particular post I decided to create a thrivingoptimist blog category called “how to”. I’m not sure yet if all posts given this designation will be of a similar tongue-in-cheek nature…perhaps some will actually be helpful or instructive! Until that is decided, I hope you enjoy my random rantings below.
I love my new hammock swing. I love the location of the tree from which it hangs in the corner of my yard which I have designated as “the woods”. I love the way the branches hang down on one side of the tree like a weeping willow, but are filled with broad leaves that make a rustling sound when the breeze is just right. I love observing the local bald eagle as it soars from treetop to treetop across the channel, and how the smaller birds follow it around, hoping to capitalize on the scraps it might leave behind from the catch of the day. I love the deep blue color of the woven strands that create a net to support me, yet allow for refreshing airflow at the same time. I love the wide view of the lake that reflects the sparkles of the sun differently depending on its angle. All of this sounds like the prime set-up for a peaceful and relaxing experience, doesn’t it?
So why then, during my most recent escape to this happy place, did I find myself overcome with the noise of a busy brain? Why were the sounds of the singing birds and rustling leaves drowned out by the clatter of my ever-obtrusive thoughts? Because…I am an overthinker…and when this brain-train gets rollin’, it is often impossible to stop.
The analyzation began with how I should sit in the swing. Since I have a stack of books that I am dying to finish I had selected one to accompany me in the hopes I could get through a few pages. Therefore, I needed to find a comfortable position where my neck was at the perfect “reading angle”, lest I put unnecessary strain on it. I also wanted to be able to gaze out at the lake in between paragraphs, but if I tucked my legs up in the swing the breeze would spin my chair around to face the channel-front homes behind me instead. I glanced up above my head, contemplating a different way to attach the swing to the carabiner, and decided that if I flipped the orientation of the connection I would most certainly face the desired direction.
So it went–book down, stand up, reverse swing, get comfortable again, pick up book, and……spin around to face channel again. Sigh.
I resolved to keep one leg out of the netting so that I could stabilize the swing where I wanted it. Let the reading begin, right? Not so fast. With my foot firmly on the ground I began to sway myself, trying to decide if I wanted to go back-and-forth or side-to-side (anyone else unable to sit still??). After a few seconds of movement the repetitive bending of my knee joint began to cause some pain, so I stopped, picked up my foot and let my leg hang, therefore setting off the spinning of the swing again. Well, if I am not going to have my foot on the ground then I am going to put it back up in the cozy cocoon of the hammock and let the breeze take me where it will. Fine. Time to start reading.
Just as I was finding my starting point on the page I heard a creaking noise above me. The climbers’ rope that my handy husband had securely wrapped around the sturdy tree branch was shifting and rubbing against itself. No big deal, I thought. This rope was designed to hold up to three of me according to the website, so there was nothing to worry about. However, at that moment the memory filled my mind from years prior when I was lying in a hammock with my young daughter on my lap, and my body quickly remembered the painful feelings of the split second when the rope broke and we fell several feet, badly bruising my tailbone as it landed on the large root of the mature oak we were swinging from. I tried to convince myself that was not going to happen this time, (for one, there was no tree root beneath me) but it was too late. I quickly extended my legs to the ground to offer additional support…just in case.
I cannot tell you exactly how much time had elapsed at this point, but it had been just enough to remove me from the anticipated state of mental and physical relaxation and thrust me into overthinking mode. The brain-train had left the station, and it wasn’t stopping for awhile. Reluctantly I stood up with my book in hand, the crisp bookmark in exactly the same place as when I started, and unhooked my hammock swing. The walk back to the house is short, but this time it felt long and defeating. Tranquility-0, Cerebrum-1.
Where is the lesson in all of this, you ask? I don’t think there is one. I have spent years grappling with my overthinking nature, repeating mantras such as “just be” or “serenity now” over and over, trying to achieve some mystical place of enlightenment where my mind can be at rest. But it is these moments in my day, where I am trying to create calm instead of allowing it to come to me, where I realize that it’s not a battle worth fighting. Slowly I am beginning to accept that my brain-train will always be on the move, and that it is ok to go along for the ride. The serenity, then, can be found in the unexpected moments where I catch myself staring into my loved ones’ eyes for a second longer than usual. Or when I spot a sign at a gift shop with a witty phrase that makes me giggle. Perhaps it is when I see a fellow human performing a random act of kindness and tears well up in my eyes. There is no need to force moments of joy in our days, we simply need to recognize the ones that are already there and the emotions they draw out from us. Our brain has enough to do already.
Serenity is the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled, representing a tranquil existence and inner quietness even amidst life’s complexities. It can describe a person’s mental state, a peaceful place, or an overall peaceful way of life.
scared of what I cannot see
I have always been fascinated by astronomy. I could gaze at the sky for hours (or until my neck begins to cramp) hoping to catch the brief greenish hue of a sunset, searching for a twinkling star, or smiling back at the man in the moon. Recently there seems to have been quite a few occurrences of celestial phenomena, or at least that is my impression due to the increasing number of them showing up on my social feeds! But I always take note of them…hoping to catch a glimpse of whichever planet will be aligned with another, or the rare color of the moon during a particular phase. However, without fail, the conditions never seem to be quite right for me to witness these events, often leaving me feeling sad and like I missed out on something (cue FOMOOOS…fear of missing out on outer space;)!
Last week I was vacationing in the northern woods of Wisconsin with my family and brought with me the hope of seeing the spectacular sights of the Peresid meteor shower. According to one source, “on the nights of August 12 & 13, 1,000 meteors will slam into Earth at a speed of 150 per hour, lighting up the night sky like fire.” After a quick calculation, I figured that would mean approximately 2 meteors per minute would streak across the sky (#math #lol). SURELY if I looked up for at least 5 minutes I would see at least one or two of them…right?
Armed with that information, I decided that I would venture outside after midnight on August 12th…the earliest time that they were supposed to become visible. Our lakeside cabin was in a perfect area where there was no light to be seen other than the stars. We were surrounded by trees, but there were enough pockets of sky that I didn’t foresee it being a problem. I decided not to set an alarm, but instead trusted that my body would wake me up naturally for this spectacular event. Right on cue, I woke up at 12:08 am and quietly walked out onto the large wooden front porch. The night sky was clear, and the stars shone brightly, beckoning my gaze upward. I allowed my eyes to focus and stood my ground, waiting for movement to catch my eye.
The childlike excitement quickly waned, and it didn’t take long for doubt to creep into my mind (we’re talking less than 30 seconds). The conviction I had carried with me for days suddenly disappeared. Why wasn’t I seeing anything yet? Was it going to be a faint line or a bold one? Wait, did I just see something or is that my mind playing tricks on me? Then my neck started to ache, so I placed my hands behind my head to support it. Ok…surely now I will see something. Should I sit down in the chair to make it easier on my neck? I shined my phone flashlight at the Adirondack chair and immediately saw spider webs. Nope, definitely not sitting there and risking creepy-crawlies all over me. Guess I’ll have to keep standing.
By now a few minutes had passed, and not only had I not seen a meteor, but I had only actually been focusing on the sky for mere seconds of that time. WHY? I had been thinking about and planning for this moment for days. So, I tried a different approach. I started praying. God, I really really would love to see a meteor. I trust in You and believe that if I ask something of You in faith that You will provide for me. So please can I see a meteor, it would make me very happy and…..
At that very moment, I heard a cracking noise from among the dark tree line that interrupted my prayer. It’s nothing...I said to myself as I looked upward again. Just an acorn falling I’m sure. Then another cracking, causing me to stare intently into the woods, hair starting to stand up on my already sore neck. Shoot, what could that be? How can I relax and look up at the sky when something might be in there? I processed some quick logic that I was mostly protected on the elevated porch with a railing all the way around. Surely if something were to be lurking I would sense it long before it would get to me? But it was too late. Enough fear had crept into my thoughts that I was no longer able to continue my prayer OR my search among the stars. I quickly turned to go back into the house, but as I did I heard a voice in my head say “you are scared of what you cannot see”. I felt it was coming from God and knew that there was more I was meant to understand, but it was late and I was tired, so I went inside feeling defeated, and fell back asleep.
I have since had time to reflect on what the experience was meant to show me. So often in my life I allow fear to take over and to steer me away from what I truly want in life. I may begin with such conviction and passion for something I know God is leading me towards, but a simple “cracking sound” from the darkness can rock my boat of confidence. Sometimes it just slows my progress down, but more often it knocks me completely out of my boat, causing me to flail around just to keep my head above water, praying God will reach his powerful hand down and pull me up like Simon from the Sea of Galilee. Why does fear do this to us? How can we have such faith but yet are so easily “rocked” when an unseen fear enters our thoughts. The unseen CAN be scary, yes, but why do we let it rob us of our purpose, and our joy so easily?
These are the questions I am exploring. These are the lessons I know God is trying to teach me as I continue to strive for peace and to fulfill His will for my life. On that night in the northern woods I wasn’t just searching the stars, I was searching my soul, and God was there with me. A life lived in fear is no life at all, and I want more than that. I want joy. I want trust. I want peace. I want to find comfort sitting in the silence waiting for the bright shining meteor, no matter what tries to steer me off course. After all, there is nothing to fear but fear itself.
finding serendipity in being stuck
The word “stuck” typically connotates negativity, irritability, or a sense of being unmoving and unable to get out of a situation. “Stuck in traffic”, “stuck between a rock and a hard place”, “stuck in a rut”; these common phrases and others imply that the individual has no choice but to be miserable in the place where they find themselves…either physically or metaphorically speaking.
What if as an alternative to these “stuck” moments being unpleasant, we were able to reframe the way we view them to instead find the tidbits of joy they produce. What if the proverbial place between the rock and the hard place (referring to being faced with two equally difficult or undesirable choices) is just the right amount of external pressure you’ve been needing to create impactful and necessary change in your life. What if those ten additional unexpected minutes in the car on your way to your destination allowed you to extend a meaningful conversation with your teenage daughter who is about to go off to college?
A couple of months ago my parents were visiting us for the week, and we asked my dad to join us on a short boat ride across the lake. The early summer conditions were perfect, and we were excited to be sharing a piece of our paradise with a loved one. Just minutes into the ride, the boat engine started steaming and we were forced to stop in the middle of the lake. Immediately the words “stuck out in the middle of the lake” raced through my head, and I was met with feelings of frustration and anxiety regarding our situation. However, what happened next is what remains etched in my mind from that day. As my husband Todd did some troubleshooting on the engine, my dad and I each grabbed one of the little yellow emergency oars and began rhythmically rowing our way towards the shore. The sun was beating down on us and beads of sweat accumulated on our foreheads, but I recall feeling thankful to be getting in an unplanned workout! Occasionally a rogue paddle stroke would splash a bit of water, causing me to giggle at the surprising burst of cool water on my skin. After rowing for a bit, my dad mentioned we should switch sides, allowing us to use the less fatigued side of our bodies to create more power. As we swapped spots I imagined we were part of the crew on a college rowing team, working together to maximize power and stroke towards the finish line. Thankfully the engine came back to life a few minutes later, and my dad and I were able to put our oars back under the seat cushions where they belonged. We made it home with a story to tell the others, and could have focused on the unplanned and unpleasant experience of the ride. Instead, the moments that transpired during that experience of being “stuck” are the ones that I fondly look back on.
There is so much joy to be found in the little things. Sometimes all it takes is a small shift in perspective when our constantly-moving world stands still….even if just for a moment.
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THE THRIVING OPTIMIST 