Let me set the scene…

I used to love the morning. The simplicity of it.

This weekend, February 5th, we celebrate 7 years together.

I feel like a symphony.

"my time as a tumbleweed needed to come to an end."

When truth comes out after the consistent guise of lies, the picture and understanding of the world you knew so intimately dies.

Squamish* was a place I never expected to call home.

I added two tattoos to my little collection this fall.

The embers of the last years are slowly ​beginning to cool and fade.

May we surrender in every moment we wake and in every sleeping dream.

The rules: the word could be anything, but it stays throughout the year. It could be inspirational, grounding, or motivational, it could be a noun, a verb, or an adjective. There were no limits...

But nothing mutilates you like backstabs of betrayal.

Today is my 32nd birthday and if you asked me 3, 5, 10, or 20 years ago... where I thought I would be. This would not be it.

I revel in choice.

It is a pretty jarring feeling when you feel like you’re too much.

I wish I could tell you what change means and what is to come.

I'm starting a club, and I'd like to formally invite you to join me...

Your energy around me is electric like the static in the air before a storm.

We prep for our futures like they are known.

I failed. And now that I've had a few weeks to process the failure, I'm ready to admit it more openly.