What I'm Up to Today

Mar 14
5 min read

Saturday, March 14, 2026 - 3:43PM

I miss a good, old fashioned blog. One where there are no pretenses and no agenda behind posting other than to share what's on one's heart and mind.

Today is Saturday, March 14th and the sun has just entered Pisces.

I didn't know this transit was happening when I woke up, but I felt it in the way my inner monologue was suddenly so much gentler than it'd been these past few weeks. I noticed the ways I was so much quicker to yield to my intuition's suggestions instead of rationalizing against them as I'd (unintentionally) been doing.

Girls, I have to say I've been thinking about A*. Dreaming about him, too. And I want you to know that I meant every word I professed in my New Year's Eve Special Confessional.

Even though I don't know what the future holds for me, and who is truly here to walk alongside me in the highest manifestation of my destiny, it feels good to embrace that even if I was "wrong," (and, to be honest, I'm not 100% sure I was/am), that I was courageous enough to believe in the truth beyond the veil.

There was a soul connection there. Whether or not it belonged to the label of Twin Flames is currently a secret only the depths of the Universe consciously knows. But to live in this world that has disconnected us so greatly from the mysteries of the divine and to believe--that to me is miraculous. That to me is shiny. That to me is something I am incredibly proud of and it is a trait I want to continue cultivating--that of belief.

I started crate training Hamsa in order to establish healthy boundaries between us. I realize now that the inseperable nature in which I raised her was a trauma response to my early childhood abandonment wound. I thought I had to prove how much I loved her by never letting her go--never letting either of us breathe the revitilzing air of independence.

And I see now how much that has hindered her growth as an individual. She expresses so much grief in my absence; she truly doesn't know what to do with herself.

Independence is a gift just as much as interdependence is. I know that with time (and eventually professional help) we can have both of those things to our hearts' contents. We truly can have it all.

On Children & Waiting

My experience mothering Hamsa has taught me so much. If I'd birthed a daughter instead of adopting a dog-ter when I was 28, I know for certain I would have experienced the same patterns with her that I have with Hamsa.

You girls know I've been questioning if motherhood truly is on my sacred path. I've wondered if motherhood is in my best interest and, in some quiet, quiet moments, I've wondered if motherhood is in any woman's best interest.

It is such a sacrifice, raising a life. It is a massive responsibility, too, one I've never seen shared equally with a loving partner. Never not ever.

I confess to you, dear reader, that I struggle at times to even believe in the existence of good fathers who are also good husbands--of good, anciently fashioned, divine masculine men.

Looking around, it seems at times that the male population is more misguided than ever, more misogynistic than ever, and completely and utterly lost.

How, then, can I picture a world where a masculine being can safely lead me? And beyond that--truly love me?

There is a fine balance between independence, interdependence, codependency, and hyper independence.

Let's just say: I'm walking the balance beam.

And in the soft glow of Sun in Pisces, I am soft enough to believe I will find my balance. Already, my center feels more stable than it's ever been.

The past ten years have been incredibly destabilzing, one long walk uphill that has made me incredibly strong because of the intensity of my training. I feel I've reached the mountain's top.

Now, with the perspective of both woman and eagle, I can let the fears that have followed me stop, for I've out-walked them.

It's just me and the mountain, the birds and the trees. And we all know how much we worked to get here. How much we sacrificed.

My mother shared a vision she had with me: every human has the opportunity to receive every gift in existence--money, love, wisdom, and more. The thing is, we each are in line for these things at different times. So while one person is in the money line, another is scooping up their wisdom. While one person is finding their interdependence through mothering, another is finding her independence through being childfree.

In an infinite universe, we don't incarnate on this planet empty. We come with many of the gifts and skills we've already waited in line for and accessed in past lives. Our souls are timelines, not periods. That is to say, I believe our souls are constantly evolving, not just here for one experience that disappears into nothingness once our hearts stop beating.

Still, for some things we must wait. We must walk. And when we are ready, receiving them will truly be the gift of a lifetime.

There are so many robins out back, whispering "It's almost spring!"

With the Equinox happening next week, I'm happy to announce that I'll be celebrating it in community, (wo)manning a booth at a market hosted by a local yoga studio. I'm looking forward to honoring the spring and being able to look people in the eyes and say, "Happy Equinox," knowing that they understand what a powerful prayer it is to welcome in a new season.

Later this week

I've got two first round interviews, and I'm genuinely looking forward to both of them. One position would take me far away from my tiny, Rust Belt town, and the other would keep me firmly planted here.

Both, in their own ways, offer me a different kind of freedom.

A few months ago, I saw my neighbor as I walked Hamsa. In my old apartment, I'd watch him work meticulously on his motorcycle after work, zooming off into the sunset, sometimes with his significant other behind him.

He's a young man, probably my age or a little older, and I always got the sense that he was a good man.

I believe it was the second summer of living in that old apartment that I saw the motorcycle being strapped to a pick up truck and driven far away.

It turns out my neighbor had been in an accident and had nearly died.

It's been at least three years and his right arm is still in a sling.

On the night our paths crossed not too long ago, I told him it was good to see him out and updated him that I'd moved to my own apartment up the block.

He said something along the lines of, "It seems we've both got more freedom,"and I felt a shock of surprise electrify me. For while I'd yearned for freedom in that old street-facing bedroom, I hadn't realized anyone could sense my yearning, too.

Now, the yearning has returned, and I realize it's never left; I just got good at quieting it.