Zion & the 15 Freeway

Great news! If you’re reading this, it means I made it home.

Why is this great news? Well, because as I write this, it seems doubtful.

At this very moment in time, I’m sitting on the 15 freeway, with my sister behind the wheel, heading home from a wonderful weekend spent in Southern Utah.

As routes home go, there aren’t many options to Southern California from that direction, which means we have no choice but to drive through the Sunday Las Vegas traffic—on a two lane highway that has now come to a complete stop.

To give you the whole picture, I drove the first three hours, driving approximately 200 miles, and it has since been two hours of my sister driving, and we’ve gone about 20 miles. We still have 4 hours to go. So things are pretty bleak.

On the bright side, I’ve had time to reflect on our trip. Sitting still and looking out at the desert will do that to you. And right off the bat, I have this feeling of disbelief, of doubt that I had just come from here:

That this morning my alarm went off at 6:00 am so we could take an early a shuttle into Zion National Park to climb Angel’s Landing.

That a handful of hours ago I had my hiking boots on, taking deep breaths and choosing careful steps as I held on to a chain that lined that trail near the top, as it narrowed and got more dangerous, and then I summited and got to look out at this:

And now I’m here. On the freeway. Crawling.

But then I look at the cars around me—and oh, there are so many of them—and I can’t help but feel the same way I did looking at all the people walking up the trails beside me. Whether they were going up or coming down, having just finished, just started, or reconsidering going all the way to the top, they were all carrying their own story, and their own motivations for doing this hike, on this Sunday, at this point in their lives.

Sitting in traffic, it’s easy to forget that everyone around you is trying to get somewhere—maybe home—just like you. And they’re all carrying a story or a handful or worries or a reason that they have to be sitting in this traffic, at this time, on this day.

Now, I’m not trying to make traffic sound like this deep, magical place. I’ll be the first to say that on most days, everyone preventing me from driving my desired speed is in my way and ruining my life. But having spent the weekend exploring a National park—that was full of people from all over the world, hiking, biking, camping and taking pictures of everything, knowing they’d never quite be able to do it justice, but wanting to try their best so that they could remember this, or at least prove that they were here, that this trip, this place, was real, and the world was a little bigger and a little better than it had been before they came here—I’m having one of those moments when you look at the world a little differently. When you remember that we’re all out here trying our best, trying to live our lives right and to enjoy them while we’re lucky enough to live them.

I may be stuck on the freeway but so are a lot of other people. And we’re all hoping it will clear up soon. Because it’s Sunday, and I know I like being home on Sunday nights. I like to settle in and prepare for a new week that might offer a whole new adventure. So I’ll be patient. I’ll look at my pictures from this weekend, be grateful that I got to experience it, and, after a little while, I’ll be home. And I hope everyone else will too. And maybe one day we’ll see each other on the trails, or in some other part of the world that we can’t believe is real, that we can’t believe we are lucky enough to see, and that we would sit in traffic over and over again to be able to experience.

Unit 25

It was the back door. The way you had to twist the knob halfway to the right, then pull, then twist it again in order for everything to click into place when you locked it. Getting that down was part of making the place feel like home. Like you belonged. Because you knew the trick.

After a while, everything became familiar, and every quirk became common as we began to know our house inside and out, thus making it our own.  

Our house became the go-to spot on Mondays, when The Bachelor would be on and I would hustle inside from my evening yoga class, saying, “hi,” to friends on the couch who were ready to catch up and half watch, half talk over the ridiculous television drama.

Our backyard became the place where my sister could pull weeds beside my dad, preparing the soil for seasonal flowers and vegetables, hopeful they’d bring some relief to her busy work schedule and upcoming grad school exams.

Our upstairs hallway became the place where we could stand at our respective bedroom doorways, rehashing the events of the day, whether it was good, bad, or entirely unbelievable. It was where a rogue feather from a newly cleaned down comforter always landed, where the quietness of the morning was broken up by hurried feet charging out the door, and where communal decisions on shoes, sweaters, hair and makeup could be made.

Our dining room table became the place where we updated our collective wall calendar and where ate Jack-in-the-Box tacos at midnight, hoping to avoid the hangover. It became a place where we played board games with cousins visiting from out of town, sometimes laughing so hard our stomachs hurt, and where we threw anything that didn’t have a defined place into “the mug” that sat in the center.

Our kitchen became the place where potluck meals came together, and where drinks were mixed, and shots were taken after hard days. It became the place where cookbooks were propped up, followed closely, and inevitably stained with oil, butter and spices, where a week’s worth of breakfasts were prepped on Sunday nights, and where my sister made her famous chocolate chip cookies for every holiday and celebration you could imagine.

Our living room recliners became the place where my sister and I sat side by side, to eat dinner, talk, vent, do homework, watch TV, play a video game, laugh, cry, and wonder where life was going to take us next.

Laying in my bed on our last night in the house, I looked up at the skylight in my ceiling, taking note of the small handful of stars that had always seemed to watch over me. I turned on my left side to look at my window, remembering all the afternoons after work when I’d lay there and watched the setting sun turn my room golden orange. I looked at the pictures, paintings, and shelves on the wall, each of which went up in their own time, with their own set of frustrations, and their own purpose, story or memory. I thought of the pacing I’d done on our very first night in the house, the frantic energy that had come with the newfound freedom of living on my own, and the growing panic that I might not know how. And then I turned on my right side, the side I always fall asleep on, the side I’d often lay, praying, crying, reading, or watching a movie—sometimes far later into the night than I intended. I lay on my right side, unable to remember every single thing I’d learned during these last six years, but overtly aware that I’d been changed for the better.

I was leaving this house, but I was taking it with me. We were starting a new adventure, but those we had here would never be too far away. So when we packed up the house the next day, trucks loaded with furniture, clothes, and boxes and boxes of little things, I turned off all the lights and then locked all the doors—leaving a few extra seconds for that back one, to do a final twist, pull, twist, and click.

31 Good Things that Happened in March

Hello and welcome back to another edition of All the Good Things, a monthly series where I highlight all the good things (get it?) that happen in each 30-day (or so) span. I hope it can be a reminder that amongst all the well known bad, there is a lot of undercover good happening in our world.

Let’s dive right in.


1) This couple made a spinoff of a typical gender reveal video to announce they adopted their 12 year old foster daughter

2) This dog got a new friend and a new home

3) This boy showed his brother a breathing technique to help him relax

4) Hershey announced they will release all peanut butter Reese’s in April

5) This man’s Jenga move:

6) And this man’s bowling shot:

7) This man looked after abandoned cats in Japan’s nuclear zone

8) This man with autism wrote a letter to his future employers and the job offers came pouring in

9) This baby gave some sass

10) This trained singer taught metal bands how to scream

11) This Canadian couple handed out thank you cards to truck drivers

12) This important proposal:

13) This man created incredible balloon animals

14) This veteran was able to leave his house for the first time in two years

15) This good advice

16) This teacher tracked down old students to return their childhood diaries

17) These retirees shared wisdom with younger generations

18) This police officer saved a dog from a house fire

19) These two big achievements

20) This man received a kidney from his longtime handyman

21) This moving company collected and donated food that would have otherwise been thrown away

22) This horse comforted cancer patients

23) These twins pulled an all nighter

24) This article showcased drawings of what people thought the future would look like

25) The US Fish & Wildlife Service reported that the bald eagle population has quadrupled in the last decade

26) Rivers kept his big secret

27) This man shared incredible drone footage of a volcano erupting in Iceland

28) These teenagers rebuilt a veteran’s home

29) This girl remembered

30) This couple recreated their wedding photo 50 years later

31) And finally, this airline employee went the extra mile to return a young boy’s toy


Wanna know the best part? There is SO much I didn’t include.

I can’t wait to see what March brings!

You can view the last edition of this series here.

If it Weren’t for that One Crazy Hair

The other day I watched a YouTube video where Kylie & Kendall Jenner attempted to do their makeup while drunk. Regardless of your opinion of them or their reality show, the video is cute and funny and especially sweet if you have a sister or sibling that you love to laugh with.

At one point in the video, as Kylie is talking, I noticed that Kendall was looking at herself in the camera and trying to fix a part of her hair that (to her) looked off. She poked at it and combed her fingers through it, trying and trying to get it a certain way, while I was sitting on the other end of the screen wondering what is even wrong with it?  What flaw could she possibly be seeing?

Kendall, being an actual supermodel, whose job it is to be pretty and skinny and “perfect”, who was sitting on this video in clothes that fit her perfectly, with barely any makeup, promoting her brand-new tequila label, and undoubtedly raking in more than my annual salary by the minute. And yet, she swiped and swiped at her hair, distracted and frustrated, until she was satisfied.

At first, I wanted to think of her as shallow or vain, only focused on her appearance. But having watched the video and seen her personality, her humor and a little glimpse into her relationship with her sister, it was clear that there is more to her than that—just like there is more to all of us. But sometimes, even if it’s just for a few minutes, there is something that makes us feel like nothing else matters. Something about our clothes or our body or our skin or our hair or anything that stares back at us so glaringly in the mirror or in a photograph or on a video. Something that erases every other good thing going on and says, you look bad. This looks bad, and everyone else sees it too.

I know for me, I get especially self-conscious about my skin. I worry about when I breakout or when my skin is especially oily. I try to avoid pictures at all costs, and when one is taken it is all I can see. And while it might not be something that no one else sees, it is not something other people are focusing on. It is not a character flaw. It does not make me less of a person, less interesting or unworthy of spending time with. The same goes for that awkward way you’re standing in that one photo. Or the way your arm isn’t perfectly muscular. Or that those clothes aren’t laying perfectly on your body. Or the fact that your nails that aren’t painted. Or that your teeth that aren’t perfectly straight. Or that that one crazy hair just won’t stay in place.

None of these things discredit your heart or erase the goodness you bring into someone’s life. They don’t minimize the happiness in a photo or ruin the mood of a dinner shared between friends and family.

And while I know, depending on the day, that one thing can feel like a breaking point. It can feel like a good enough reason to call it quits on the day. To not want to leave the house. To cry or lean into bad habits or miss out on things you wanted to participate in. I also know that that one thing is not worth it.

It’s not worth your time. It’s not worth your energy. It’s not worth you missing the wonderful things going on around you. So let’s just leave it be. Let’s live inside the moments we’ve locked ourselves out of simply because we didn’t feel like we looked good enough to live them. Let’s not define ourselves and our lives on that pimple, or those jeans, or that sleeveless shirt, or that one crazy hair. You’re more than that. I’m more than that. We’re all made of millions of other colors and thoughts and dreams and ideas and memories that make us who we are and who we’re going to be, which is not and never will be defined by that one thing. So let’s put that thing aside. Let the crazy hair fly, and leave it be.

Dear Girl in the Waiting Room

Yesterday I took my mom to a doctor’s appointment and I saw you sitting in the waiting room. We both had our masks on and we both listened as the door opened and closed with nurses calling name after name of someone else who had one reason or another to start their week at the doctor.

When they called my mom’s name, I put an AirPod in and started listening to music. I wished I’d brought my Kindle, but I settled for a halfhearted scroll through social media. The office phone rang. A sneaker squeaked in the hallway. Patients shuffled in and out and suddenly it was just you and me, sitting a few rows apart, waiting.

Unlike me, you didn’t have your phone in your hand. In fact, your hands sat purposefully in your lap, fingers folded into each other, a medical bracelet around your wrist. Your hair was straightened, and your eyeliner looked not only practiced but perfected. Your elbow tucked your purse into your side and your eyes stayed glued on the ground. You were focused. Serious. Maybe even nervous.

Maybe you were there for a routine x-ray. Maybe it was nothing to worry about. Maybe it was just an early morning and you were tired, stressed or trying to prepare yourself for the rest of the day. Or maybe you were sitting there wondering. Wondering if you were about to get news you didn’t want to hear. Wondering if this was going to be the day that changed everything. Wondering if you’d often think about this morning, about how you straightened your hair, did your makeup, and pretended like this was just another day—when it wasn’t.

When they finally called your name, I watched as you flinched, as you quickly gathered your things and made your way through the door. And then, for a few minutes, I sat alone, wondering. Hoping. That everything was normal. Or better. Or completely treatable. Hoping that the news you were about to be given was good news, manageable news, news that made you breathe a sigh of relief, erasing all those horrible possibilities you dreamed up in the purple chairs of the waiting room.

As my mom walked back out and we made our way to the car, I left behind wishes for only good things for you. For this to be just a casual day. A casual appointment. A cautious but clear checkup. A reminder that everything is going to be okay.

And I hoped you did the same for us.

A Five Senses Check-In

Back in October I wrote this post—inspired by The Next Right Thing podcast—that was all about connecting to your senses in order to find some peace amongst the fear of the future and chaos of the present.  

Right now, I have a lot of moving pieces in my life, a lot of things that I don’t feel like I have control over and that are changing. As a result, I have been pouring myself into projects, exercise, and goal setting in order to combat the corresponding anxiety. Yesterday, after getting home from work a little earlier than usual, and with the sun out and the weather an incredible 75 degrees outside, I found myself debating over how I could be productive. Should I go for a run, a walk, a hike, do yoga, do work, write, clean, read, pray? What could I do to make myself feel good, or better, or at the very least, calm.

After a while, I decided to do a little yoga, even though I spent the first few minutes frustrated and unwilling to participate. I pretended to relax until I actually relaxed. Then, I sat down on my bed and tried to map out my plan for the rest of my evening—instantly going back to that place of demanded productivity.  My mind was racing and I felt like I was wasting time. But then, I felt the breeze come through my bedroom window. And then I noticed that the sun had turned golden with the evening and there were birds chirping outside. And then I thought back to that post, and I thought it was a fitting time to shift my focus back to the present—“to what is rather than what we are afraid could be.”

Here’s what I wrote down:

Five things I can see

  1. The golden hour sunlight shining through the window
  2. The flickering shadows casted on my bed, my floor and my wall from my blinds
  3. A branch of the palm tree in my backyard swaying in the breeze
  4. The collage on my wall that I made to inspire me whenever I look at it
  5. My newly painted pink toenails

Four things I can hear

  1. The bells of the church down the road that mark the start of every hour
  2. Birds chirping—a reminder that spring is so close!
  3. Neighbors chatting and laughing
  4. A UPS truck driving in the distance

–Three things I can feel

  1. The evening breeze that is cool but no longer cold
  2. The soft comforter that sits on top of my bed
  3. Hunger. The excited kind of hunger you feel when you know what you’re making for dinner and you can’t wait to have it. Looking at you Naan pizza.  

–Two things I can smell

  1. The laundry detergent I used to clean the cozy sweatshirt I’m wearing
  2. Fresh air from my open window

–One thing you can taste

  1. Cold water

There are a lot of things that we can’t control, but there are also a lot of moments that we can choose not to let control us. As it turned out, there were plenty of good things to find on what tried to become a very stressful afternoon. And while I can’t guarantee that anxiety won’t sneak its way back into my shoulders, as I sat there, allowing myself to feel the breeze, to listen to the family next door joke and laugh, and to watch the sun turn gold, I knew everything was going to be okay, and that I could take a deep breath and relax.

I Want the “More”

This past weekend I finished reading The Midnight Library which is a book about regrets. It follows Nora, a girl who is so consumed in regret and despair that she decides to end her life, only to wake up in a state of in-between called “the midnight library” where there are shelves full of books that each tell the story of a different life she could have lived if she made different choices.

This concept was fascinating to me, and instantly inspiring as I am someone who often finds myself wondering “what if _____?” I sat up wondering what my own “midnight library” would look like and what it would teach me; what different decisions could have led to different lives, and what questions could be answered by finally knowing if I made “the right” decision.

I loved reading Nora’s story and how she was able to uncover and disprove some of these regrets she’d been holding on to for so long, but I also found myself wildly jealous. Because the not knowing, the wondering and the regretting about the past can take all the fun out of the present. And sometimes when my present is sad or lonely or just hurts, I turn to those ponderings and regrets, believing that if I had done something differently, I wouldn’t have to be here, in the hurt.

But then I wonder, what am I really asking for? Am I asking for a life without hurt? Am I asking for a life where I never have to feel any pain or experience any loss or wonder about any fork in the road? Because while that sounds cozy and fun compared to all of this, it also sounds naïve and fake. It sounds like a life where I never learn anything, never overcome anything and thus never become more than I thought I could be. On the surface it sounds like a happy life, but it also sounds like a life where I would never really understand or appreciate what happy is.

We all go through bad things, we all experience hard chapters, we all have moments when we wonder why. And I wish there was a place to go and get all of the answers. A place like the midnight library where you could look at all the other outcomes of a situation and understand why that was the best one. Not for the best, most perfect life, but for the life that allows you access to becoming who you were made to be.

I don’t have all the answers—about anything really. And there are many parts of my life that I don’t understand or that I will always wonder what if. But then there are parts of my life that I catch myself saying how? How did I get to this wonderful place? How am I so lucky to experience this wonderful moment? And that is when I have to remember that it was all the moments that led up to this that got me here. It is all the good, all the bad, all the what if’s and regrets that still linger. They all make me me and they make my life my life. They are what have built me and will continue to build me as I continue to build this life. And while I’m scared for what’s ahead, scared of what might happen or what might not happen, I’m excited for it all because it will make me more. And at the end of the day, that’s all I really want—to discover all the more this life has for me, and that I have to offer the world.   

28 Good Things that Happened in February

Hello and welcome back to another edition of All the Good Things, a monthly series where I highlight all the good things (get it?) that happen in each 30-day (or so) span. I hope it can be a reminder that amongst all the well known bad, there is a lot of undercover good happening in our world.

Let’s dive right in.


1) People hilariously trolled the dresses currently being sold at Target.

2) This important reminder:

3) The best travel photos of 2020 were released.

4) This:

5) This newbown baby calf gained a new best friend in the family’s dog.

6) This:

7) This group of people in Portland tracked down a stolen van that had 12 dogs inside.

8) This man discovered his irregular heartbeat with his Apple Watch.

9) This top notch joke:

10) This woman found a way to recycle plastic into bricks.

11) This man was reunited with a wallet he lost in Antarctica 53 years ago.

12) Wrigley:

13) SNL poked fun at cancel culture:

14) NASA’s Perseverance landed on Mars:

15) Youtube channel Another Perspective shared this video of snowflakes melting in reverse.

16) This man opened his furniture store (again) to house those needing to get out of the cold of the Texas storms.

17) This important milestone celebration:

18) Three doctors invited to the Super Bowl saved a woman’s life on their flight home.

19) This principal went the extra mile for his student.

20) This:

21) This Ohio bomb squad investigated a suspicious package only to find kittens inside.

22) This…magic:

23) This man bought a basketball hoop for a boy he saw shooting a baskets into a trashcan.

24) The annual “Llamingada” llama race took place in Ecuador.

25) This:

26) These plumbers drove from New Jersey to Texas to help out families in need.

27) This couple rescued a dog they found nearly frozen on a hike.

28) And finally, this boy gave an incredible speech on the importance of reading.


Wanna know the best part? There is SO much I didn’t include.

I can’t wait to see what March brings!

You can view the last edition of this series here.

January & February Favorites

I always miss favorites posts after it’s been a little while. I like having somewhere to put things and say, “HEY, I LIKE THESE,” and I like to picture you checking them out and saying, “HEY, I LIKE THESE TOO.” Because that’s what friendship is.

So let’s be friends.

One thing before we start, thought. If you’re looking for a drinking game, go ahead and take a drink whenever I say a form of “recommend” in this post. Then call 911.

Podcasts

Against all odds, me, the scaredy cat of my family, has started listening to a true crime podcast. I didn’t anticipate it, and to be honest, I don’t know what made me click on Anatomy of Murder in the first place, but I’ve been all up in the archives, listening to an episode every day and looking forward to the next one. The podcast is hosted by a former New York City homicide prosecutor and a former deputy sheriff so you get an insider’s perspective into both the crime and the process of it being solved, which I really like, each crime (at least so far) is solved, which I love.

The Proverbs 31 Ministries podcast is a Christian podcast I just started listening to after having been on the hunt for one for quite a long time. I kept hoping to find one that was kind of like a friendly, inspirational conversation with friends and so far, I think this is just that! The very first episode I heard was “5 Things to Do if You Feel Lonely in Your Life” and it had me wildly jotting down notes—in a good way, so I’m excited to keep listening.

Books

In probably the most unexpected of favorites, I listened to the audiobook of Matthew McConaughey’s Greenlights and I could. not. get. enough. He is so funny and so strange and so wonderful to listen to. By the end I couldn’t tell if I was inspired by Matthew or if I had a crush on him—or both. Either way, I’d recommend the book but I’d especially recommend the audiobook.

Next up, The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society. I absolutely adore this movie on Netflix and after recommending it to my mom, she saw it, loved it and read the book, then recommended the book back to me, making it an all around wonderful, lovable recommendation circle. I recommend both the book and the movie!

TV Shows

I’d had Peaky Blinders on my radar for a while after it was recommended to me by my cousin, but I was never ready to *make the commitment*. Once I started however, I was in! I will say, it was conflicted to like, then love, then borderline feel as if I would commit crimes for a family that is arguably not the “good guys”, but I will make no apologies. The Shelby family is now my family. (find it on Netflix)

The Wilds is another wildcard that I didn’t expect to like as much as I did, and certainly didn’t anticipate to get the have you seen’s over it, where you continuously bring it up in the hopes that there is someone you can talk to about it. But alas, here we are. I am now anxiously awaiting season two with so. many. questions. (find it on Amazon Prime)

Movies

I haven’t heard anyone talking about The Dig and so I’d like to officially say: watch it! It’s a true story based on an incredible archaeological dig that took place right before World War II. Not only is the find amazing, it is so interesting to watch the world prepare for and anticipate war in the context of a story like this. (find it on Netflix)

The Map of Tiny, Perfect Things was another unexpected good one. Having seen Groundhog Day (which this movie pays homage to) I was curious to see what a new take on it would look like, and I was very pleasantly surprised by how much I loved this movie. It reminds you to appreciate the wonderful moments that exist inside each day. I loved it! (find it on Amazon Prime)

Music

Hoax by Kevin Garrett

A Song for Every Moon by Bruno Major

MinimaList

My brain has been a little bit of a chaotic mess lately and I have fallen off using my planner—mostly because I keep forgetting about it—making it hard for me to keep track of all the things I want/have to get done. But this app is a simple, organized tool that lets you make a list of anything and everything that comes to mind, giving you an on the go to-do list that I am loving! (find it here)

Crispy Sheet Pan Gnocchi

Image Credit to the TheKitchn.com

This recipe was recommended by a friend and my sister and I fell in love with it instantly. It is so easy and so yummy and even though we’ve already made it twice I have no doubt I will be craving it again shortly (find the recipe here.)


Have anything you’ve been loving over these last couple months? Let me know!

See my previous favorites post here.

Peanut Butter: What I Know For Sure

A while back I heard Oprah say that the most important question she’s ever been asked is “what do you know for sure?” She wrote an entire book about the question and of the lessons she holds dear, and even though I haven’t read it, I have felt this question on my heart lately.

It goes without saying that there is a lot going on. A lot that I don’t have control over, that I can’t change, and that I (or anyone, really) can see the end of any time soon. As a result, I’ve been in hyperactive productivity mode, trying to find things that I can do. Ways I can help. Things I can enjoy, pursue and try. And though I have found some good—and even great—things, hobbies, and people in this process, I have also found a lot of stress, a lot of moments spent sitting frozen, unsure if I’ve overexerted myself, and a lot of wondering where to start or what to do next.  

My whole life I’ve wanted to feel “sure.” To know that I’m making the right choice or to have clarity of why making the wrong choice taught me a valuable lesson. I’ve wanted to know that I’m doing a good job, or at least doing my best, and that I can be sure my family is proud of me, my friends, acquaintances, (and honestly, complete strangers) like me, and that I am doing everything I can to have a bright, successful future and a long, meaningful life.  But the more I’ve tried to be sure about these things, the more I’ve found myself insecure about them. I let bad days derail my confidence and allow myself to overthink my way to believing that I’m doing absolutely everything wrong.

This is why I find comfort in this question. Because it doesn’t ask me to know everything about everyone from every single part of my life. It doesn’t ask me to know why or when or how I got to where I am or what I’m going to do next. It simply asks me what I know for sure—about anything.

Not what you think about what I know. But what I know.

For example, I hate peanut butter. I know this for sure. I’ve hated it my entire life. So when I’m trying to make a decision about what healthy, make ahead breakfast to try, or which yummy potluck dessert to bring, or what flavor ice cream to order, I know for sure I don’t have to consider any of the options with peanut butter. And that doesn’t make me uncool or uncultured or unworthy of anything or anyone—it just means I don’t like peanut butter.  

This is a silly example, but I can think of far sillier things that have kept me up at night in an overthink-tank. Things that I agonized over in the fear of not being cool, of being rejected, or of being noticeably “different.” Things that I was sure had to be right or perfect in order for them to matter.

My brain loves to spin around and around in circles, and when I feel like there are a lot of things I can’t control, it loves to panic, turn to impulse and, at times, shut down. So I’m trying to hold tight to this question. What do I know for sure? What truths can set me free from some of the spiraling?

For today, I know for sure that I’m posting this blog. I don’t know if you’ll like it, I don’t know if it will resonate with you, I don’t know if it will be the best or worst post I’ve ever made, I don’t know if I’ll remember it, look back on it, or forget about it in a matter of months. I don’t know if I’ll write on this blog forever, if I’ll ever write a book, get paid to write, or write something that changes the world. What I know for sure is that I am posting this. And that I like posting on my blog. And I like writing. And I hate peanut butter. And that’s a start.