I followed the signs without fully knowing where they would lead—through endings, healing, and trust—until I found myself in a sun-filled place, beginning again with peace in my chest.

I planted a tiny garden—not just for bees and butterflies, but for the part of me learning to welcome the sunlight. I’m not a summer person (yet), but sprouts are pushing through, a bumblebee has arrived, and little miracles are starting to bloom.

Come see what happens when you water the things you’re still learning to love.

I remember watching that movie when I was younger. Since then, I tried to truly find where my heart was. I placed it in people, in places, in things… and now, at 41, I’ve discovered a new meaning to that phrase.

Do you ever feel uncomfortable doing nothing? In this week’s blog, I reflect on the art of the pause—how nature blooms after stillness, and how we, too, can reconnect with our true essence when we stop filling every moment. A soft invitation to breathe, let go, and remember that even rest is creative.

→ Read the full post on the blog.

Spring brings with it quiet reminders that we, too, are always changing. Like blossoming trees and shifting skies, we evolve—sometimes gently, sometimes painfully—but always with purpose. It’s okay to bloom. It’s okay to be bare branches. All is well. All is being taken care of.