A love letter to myself this birthday. 

Good morning, birthday girl. 
You were on my heart late last night so I followed the love and wrote to you. And yes, I am crying already. I hope that as you read this, you find some words here and hold them close as you move throughout today. 

The first thing I want you to know this birthday morning: You are enough and I am proud of you. 

This has been such a hard year for you and yet you’ve continued to walk through it heart first. There is no shame in admitting that it’s hurt just as much as it’s…

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The Pace of Peace 

The recent loss of Naomi Judd has struck me in a tender place that reaches deeper than my well-known childhood “fandom”. And since I’ve always found refuge in words, I’m going there …

The Pace of Peace.

I lost my mentor of 15 years, who was both my manager and my soul mother, only a few months ago.  The loss of Susan feels like a mountain that isn’t moving. I can’t go around it or through it, just a slow and steady climb up without any indication as to how far I am from the top.  I try my best to be…

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the only thing harder than leaving… 

Long ago, in what feels like another life, I wrote a song about visiting back home after I’d moved to Nashville. I was an 18 year old, sitting in a writing room on Music Row with two co-writers in their late 40’s, telling them how weird I felt going back to Belleville, Michigan because it didn’t feel like me anymore.

“I move like a stranger through my own past

‘Cause the only thing harder than leaving is going back”

I was a kid who didn’t know shit, but I sure could write songs like I did…

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The “before” and the “after” 

It’s been one month in this new life.  The world as I knew it – divided into a “before and “after” instantly.  I’ve been searching for words beautiful enough to describe the light that always surrounded her and centered anyone in her presence.  Truth is, I’ve been writing nonstop since she passed.  Scribbles in assorted notebooks.  Voice memos in the middle of grocery store.  The white light of my computer screen, drawing me into a thought and keeping me up too late.  Admittedly, my battle with…

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The florescent lighted fear. 

I feel afraid of this world.  If I’m being completely truthful here, nowhere feels safe to me these days and I don’t know that I want to be anywhere anymore.  I’ve lived my whole life thinking that the national headlines were for the news “out there” – “in here” we are saddened by the tragedies we hear/ about from the comfort of our couch. But the last couple weeks have hit too close to home.  I’m in the ‘ache’ now.

I took myself down to the library tonight.  It’s a usual stop I make whenever I’m…

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Two years today. 

Two years ago today I set my alarm for 6AM, waking up earlier than anyone in the house. I quietly crept downstairs to my “office”, sat in my cheetah print reading chair in the corner, journal in lap. I knew I had 30 minutes, at most, to take a moment for myself to start my day in peace. I vividly recall taking deep breaths, repeating to myself that I need to observe and appreciate how good this expansion felt in my upper body with each inhale and exhale. I reminded myself that I will need to come back…

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Window seat. (Day Five) 

I’m sitting by myself in the library, my small table isolated from all humans but surrounded by books. I’m on the top floor, right alongside a large window wall overlooking the lake and all the fall colors from neighboring trees. It’s so quiet that I swear I can hear the leaves rustling in the slightest breeze on the other side of this glass. I don’t remember the last time things have been this quiet. I mean, even on my solo walks – there’s leaves crunching under my feet, cars driving by, birds…

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Waiting Room Writing. (Day Three/Four) 

Been spending a lot of time in waiting rooms again. I haven’t spent this much time on a faux leather chair with wooden armrests since my cancer treatments between Fall 2019 into early 2020. Before then, I simply never went to the doctor. So to be back in what feels like one endless stream of waiting rooms again has my blood pressure up. It’s a place, physically and emotionally, that I don’t care to spend a large portion of my day, however that’s my reality for the time being. The only difference now is…

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Words of love. (Day Two) 

Believe it or not, I’ve always had a hard time communicating on a vulnerable level.

I have no problem expressing myself in my songwriting or while up on stage. I easily vent about my frustrations or gossip about the latest happenings when sitting down with a friend. Lord knows I can literally talk the paint off the wall, and most times that’s exactly what I do whenever given a chance.

But communicating my struggles and fears? Expressing my appreciation and gratitude to people who need to hear…

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Day One. 

It’s a Monday and it’s November 1st.

For whatever reason, kicking off a new month at the top of the week has always held significance for me. It’s kind of like New Year’s or a birthday – a reset, if you will. A chance to pay attention and not get stuck saying (once again), “Man, this month just flew by!”

Because the truth is, every month has been flying by. And even truer, every month seems to be racing past me even faster than the one before it. I hear that this is a natural part of adulting –…

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