At 5:30 on September 14th, it looked unlikely. Gasping for breath with pain in my chest, I watched my friends seem to skip up the trail and wondered if I had it in me. Panic set in. Only once before had that happened. Climbing a smaller mountain with my husband last summer, I couldn’t catch my breath and began to panic. I have always been able to count on my conditioning. Athletic all my life, I have maintained a fitness level without a ton of effort. Even after periods of laziness, I could get back in shape quickly. Accepting the invitation to climb a 14ner with dear friends, I threw myself into a month long training after a period of sporadic hiking during our build. Between that and my natural conditioning, I knew it would be tough but I figured I could do it. Of course occasionally, I wanted to bow out from laziness and some trepidation – maybe I will come down with a cold, maybe the weather will stop us, maybe my friends will cancel… The night before I tossed and turned for hours. When the wake up came at 3:40am, I was beyond groggy. Starting on the trail at dark was magical, the stars were our guide and I kept my headlamp off to feel the dark around me. Starting fast felt fine – for a minute – and then before I could say anything the shortness of breath and pain in my chest began. Immediately I did what any good perfectionist will do, I made myself wrong lamenting how it used to be, worrying about disappointing my friends, being embarrassed about my lack of conditioning compared to theirs mixed in with panic at not being able to breathe. I let them know of my struggles and we slowed our pace but at barely past the trailhead, I wondered how I would make the ascent.  
11 October, 2014 /
Where did the pink go? I sit and watch the sun begin to shine a rosy pink on the peaks around me. I anticipate the glow growing warmer and warmer then suddenly the light is gone. Where did it go? The light still exists but it is blocked by something at the moment, something just out of my view on the horizon. A cloud miles away obscuring the sun, perhaps. I crave to continue my worship of the pink glow but the minute the thing becomes the thing it is no longer that. I forget that magic is all around us. We crave big fiery demonstrations of magic where it’s unmistakable - and inconceivable that it could be anything else but proof of what we long for. How close are we willing to look? How quietly are we willing to listen? I look out because that’s where the view is but what if I look to the weeds sprouting up between the rocks? The pile of dirt my dogs dug up? The petals on the mountain flower?2010-06-28 (Big Purple Thistle) The pink begins to return in new places. To look out reminds me of expansiveness. To look closely reminds me of focus and of being in the moment.
03 September, 2014 /
Those of us who have walked through are own personal fires are sensitive souls.   Most the time we know ourselves as the brave warriors that we are, but sometimes the weight of the worlds woes gets to us and we beg to call uncle.
Yesterday I finished writing a piece for Unity magazine that I had agonized over for weeks. I have experienced writers block in the past but this was writers anguish. Hating everything I wrote, I would stop short of completing it. I couldn’t figure out a way to end it and nothing was flowing. My topic: returning home to ourselves after a period of darkness. Finally yesterday morning, the FINAL deadline after extending three times, I got up early, polished up my 5th draft and showed it to David expecting him to rip it apart as I had. Instead, he loved it, saw my mission shining through and gave me one line of editing. The truth is (if I haven’t made it obvious already) that I was struggling with my own darkness as I wrote. How it’s supposed to be: We have returned to our land victorious. The view alone settles and calms us. The house is magical, cozy and beautiful. We have made it back. We are home. We celebrate. Our Tiny House Nation episode is airing on National TV tomorrow and it’s exciting beyond belief. Rebuilding was a grand adventure from planing it to working with all the trades to getting to be behind the scenes of TV filming and meeting the most extraordinary people along the way.
12 August, 2014 /

We have jumped, taken the leap, gone for it. We have committed to living in a tiny home back on our burned out land. This fills us with equal parts excitement, trepidation and joy. Most days the positive wins out and we keep moving forward. And...

08 May, 2014 /

My new book just came out - and yes, it’s a continuation in the exploration of why - and how - we wait in life. You might think that after writing my first book (Waiting for Jack), and delving into the topic for so many...

05 November, 2013 /

This coming weekend, nine women will gather at my burned out property to explore what it means to be a writer, why they feel called, what they want to say to the world - and why they may never get their message from their hearts...

16 September, 2013 /
The leopard print chaise calls to me, out of the fog of memory, from its ashy grave, "Remember me", it says. "Remember the comfort you used to take as you sat gazing out at your small piece of paradise? When you sat with me, the world made sense. Even if only for a moment. Your life was on a trajectory, heading predictably in the same direction it had been going..." Following that trajectory was just fine with me.Love this man Now here I sit in a different chair in a different house but with the same cat and the same woven blanket. The intricate weave of the blanket - golds, reds, rust - gleam in the sun, catching the light, catching my attention. Instead of the caws of crows and the wind in the trees, I hear the drone of traffic and the barking of a neighbors dog. I hold both worlds as, yes, we are now happy here - and yes, I miss my life as it was before.
11 August, 2013 /
How do I tell this tale? Words will surely fail even while the richness leaves my jaw-aching from perma-grin. Last Monday morning at 8:45, I bought a 1960 Airstream Pacer. This was not exactly a whim, although it was my first purchase on eBay. Ever. For anyone who knows the rush of a bidding war on eBay, you know what I am talking about. And, factor in that this was a somewhat larger than usual purchase and not simply a pair of shoes or a purse.995442_10201543718575719_326820933_n I say it wasn’t a whim, as over the weekend, David and I attended our first Airstream rally. Having met a whole new group of lovely like-minded people, we joined the club and began to broaden our Airstream horizons. Many of our new club member friends have multiple trailers, which opened our minds to the possibility of more than one.
28 July, 2013 /