Striving to write words that matter.

What if I asked you the question, “Do you take care of yourself?” I imagine that most of you are thinking, “Well sure, I’m alive aren’t I?”

Okay, well…what if I asked you a more specific question, such as: “How do you take care of yourself?”

Yeah, that’s what I thought. If you’re finding that question is a little harder to answer, then the rest of this is probably for you.

“… I grabbed a few seed packets to head out on my merry little way only to catch a glimpse of the line that said they wouldn’t bloom for 50-60 DAYS! I stopped dead in my tracks. You mean I’m not going to start seeing the results in the next 2 weeks? Because thats kind of what I was shooting for here.

Instead, I once again had something asking me to wait longer than I wanted to…”

“This view lended itself to some easy people watching. So while I waited for the waitress to come back around with the wifi password, I casually observed the room from behind my latte. (Or at least I hope it was casual, otherwise I definitely looked like Joe Goldberg from the Netflix series YOU)…”

“It was early January 2017 and once again I found myself aimlessly driving around town trying to avoid going home. If I could just find something to do, then I wouldn’t have to face the dam of emotions that were threatening to break.”

“I keep trying to find some way to describe my time at Camp Well.

To sum up the fullness of my heart + the anticipation I have for whats next - but I don’t know that words are adequate…”

Dear Daughter of Dysfunction,

…I’ve got a freeing little secret to tell you…

“Earlier this year, I had just wrapped up a really challenging day at work. You know those days where you question everything, feel inadequate, and leave defeated & drained? Yeah, one of those days. I’m talking snotty, ugly-crying, M E S S .

…I headed down the highway and minutes later the truck in front of me…”

I think for most of us, there are specific days or events that we could look back on and mark as pivotal to our life stories. Sometimes those pivotal moments are really beautiful ones, and others are blanketed in hurt.

June 6th is that date for me.

“Our punishment for failure was swift and unjust. My response was to strive more to make up for my lack.

I learned very quickly how to not rock the boat. Better not fail, because the landmines were plenty.”