Hello, and Welcome!

Well, hello there, dear Reader - I’m so happy you’ve stopped by.

I’m an essayist, memoirist, and poet, and here you’ll find an assortment of personal reflections, book recommendations, and my amateur photography of things in nature that excite me. (Hint: often the moon. Lots of trees.) Occasionally, I’ll talk about what it means to take care of the bones and fascia of a human body (drawing on a lifetime of compulsive exercising as well as a 500-hour YTT), including some movement practices (mobility, strength training, breath work) that have helped me. I promise never to offer solutions, but, rather, you’ll see me try to think through what has helped me to navigate pain and grief without devolving into bitterness.

I started this newsletter as a place for me to write about being single after 25 years of marriage. I didn’t want to end my marriage, and I didn’t see it coming, so, when it ended abruptly in January 2020, my life took a lot of abrupt twists and turns. Beyond writing about that rupture, I write about mothering, about writing itself and the creative act more broadly defined, about inspiration and hope and beauty and forgiveness. I found that when my life was in the midst of rapid-fire change, I was having a hard time keeping up with what I was thinking, what I was yearning for, what I was afraid of. Writing here became a way for me to track my journey in real time, and, hopefully, provide some entertaining or otherwise valuable reading for you in the meantime.

I post once or twice a week, and you’ll always receive new work directly in your inbox. I love when readers comment on my posts, so please feel free to leave questions, suggestions for future newsletters, or simply to tell me something about your wonderful self. In 2025, I began offering journal prompts on Sundays to paid subscribers, as a tiny little thank you for supporting my creative endeavors. I am enormously grateful for those who can—and do—choose a paid subscription. Your very practical and literal support is the stuff that makes this possible. You can also, at anytime, make a one-time donation here.

Thank you for being here, and for your own efforts out in the world. In the words of Emily Dickinson, “Hope is the thing with feathers,” and it is also the thing that “perches in the soul, / And sings the tune without the words, / And never stops at all...” So here's to singing even if we don't know the words, and never stopping at all.