Something is Wrong...

 This one is a deep one.  

This is probably the biggest example of why I keep this blog a float, just to share my thoughts in a vacuum.  There are some days, I wake up and feel like I’m suffocating in a life that looks perfectly fine from the outside.

I have responsibilities. People depend on me. I show up. I check the boxes. I say "I'm good" when someone asks how I am. And technically, I am. I'm functioning. I'm doing the things I’m supposed to do. But inside? I feel trapped. Emotionally locked in a version of myself I don’t recognize anymore.

Yeah, I know the answer... "go to therapy", but I have and I spent a lot of time working through things and healing and learning to let go. It seems I have become so proficient at letting go that I can't grab hold anymore.  I have learned so well to numb it out and accept "it is what it is" and I just long for connection...real connection, deep connection.  

I don't know exactly when it started, maybe it’s been building for years. Maybe I didn’t notice it because I was so busy being busy, trying to not look at the emptiness that I keep pushed down so very well. Somewhere along the line, I lost touch with myself.

I look in the mirror and I don’t always recognize the person staring back. Not just in a physical way, but in the sense of: Where did I go? There’s a dullness to everything lately. A flatness. And I hate that I can’t just “snap out of it.”

I keep asking myself: What is this? Is this a midlife crisis? Is this what they talk about in books and articles, the sudden realization that life isn’t unfolding the way you thought it would? Or is it hormonal, a hideous betrayal of my body shifting under me, messing with my energy, my sleep, my moods? Or is it something deeper? A spiritual exhaustion. A quiet grief for the parts of me I neglected for too long.

The truth is, I don’t know.

On paper, I have a lot to be grateful for. But that’s the thing about emotional pain, it doesn’t wait for permission. It doesn’t care how good your life looks on the outside. It shows up anyway.

And when people say, “But you have so much to be thankful for,” I just nod. I don’t have the energy to explain that gratitude doesn’t cancel out emptiness.

I miss feeling alive. I miss passion. I miss the version of me who dreamed, who created, who laughed until she cried. Now I just go through the motions, hoping one day something will shift.

It is funny but I have never been much of a crier.  Now, I wish I could cry....a raw, heaving, full on ugly cry. The sadness is there. The ache is there. But it’s like there’s a wall inside me I can’t get past. I don’t want to blow up my life. I’m not looking for some reckless escape. I just want to feel something real again. I want to cry, not out of despair, but as a release... as proof that there’s still something soft and human inside me.

Happy Birthday Baby Boy!

 

Birthdays are funny things when your children are grown. They still carry the same joy and wonder they did when our little ones were blowing out candles over a mess of frosting, but they also bring a quiet feeling that I can't quite name...an awareness of  how quickly the years slip through our fingers.

Today, my baby boy celebrates another year of life. And while I am endlessly proud of the man he is becoming, my heart can’t help but drift back to the days when his hands were small enough to wrap around just one of my fingers, when his laughter filled the house in that carefree, boyish way that only childhood allows.

There is such sweetness in watching him grow into himself...seeing his confidence, his choices, and his passions take shape. But there is also a pang of longing for the days that feel like they ended too soon: the ball games, the school mornings, the nights he wanted to talk for hours starting at 11:00 PM.

That’s the bittersweet truth of motherhood. We raise our children to be independent, strong, and capable, yet we can’t help but miss the days when they needed us for everything. A birthday, especially, is a reminder of both, the celebration of who they are now and the memory of who they once were.

So today, I celebrate my son with all the love and pride my heart can hold. I also quietly honor the little baby who made his depute today, all those years ago, who still lives in every smile, every hug, and every memory.

Happy birthday, my baby boy. No matter how many years pass, you’ll always carry that title with me.

Keep the Memories Lose the Stuff by Matt Paxton

 I know, reading a book about decluttering, downsizing, and organizing your stuff probably sounds like the most thrilling way to spend an evening, right? 

 Recently, I picked up Matt Paxton’s Keep the Memories, Lose the Stuff, and it really resonated with me big time. If Matt’s name rings a bell, it’s likely because of the TV show Hoarders. I was both obsessed with and stressed out by that show. It made me anxious just watching it, but it also could turn me into a cleaning machine. I could toss all the things with that show playing in the background. It freaked me out worrying, "Am I on the road to hoarding?"

Ironically, I started reading Paxton’s book while staying with my elderly parents for a few weeks. One had recently had an accident, and both were dealing with mobility issues. Let’s just say the timing of this book was... uncanny. It hit hard.

Right now, I am in a season of life where I am reevaluating what truly deserves my time and energy. I’ve realized that I have a deep emotional response to “stuff”...sometimes pleasant, but often stressful. Clutter is loud to me. Not in a literal sense, but emotionally. It overwhelms me. Spending that time with my parents brought p a lot of old feelings, memories, some unresolved from childhood. But I’ve learned that when I understand the “why" behind my emotions, I can begin to manage them. And more importantly, I can give myself permission to stop accepting things, physical or emotionally, that cause anxiety.

So how does all of this tie back to the book? That’s exactly what makes Paxton’s book so impactful. It goes beyond the surface and digs into why letting go of stuff is so hard. It’s not laziness. For most people, it’s emotional...grief, guilt, memories, identity, and sometimes mental health struggles. This book doesn’t shame or pressure. It offers understanding, insight, and practical steps.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by your own clutter, or that of a loved one, I would say grab a copy or download the audio version. It’s not just about organizing. It’s about finding clarity, healing, and maybe even a little peace

Remember to support small and shop independent book stores. 

Get a copy here: https://tinyurl.com/36eurd3r 

Iceland and the Continued Hunt for the Northern Lights

I have a long-standing, long-distance love affair with the Aurora Borealis. Sadly, it seems the feeling isn’t mutual. I am the pursuer in this one-sided relationship. Fortunately, I have a husband who appreciates my dreams and wants to see them come true. In fact, we even chose our honeymoon destination on the slim chance we might catch a glimpse of her. Spoiler alert: we didn’t. But the trip was still magical.

Being the thoughtful man he is, my husband planned a trip to Iceland in December, a time when the Northern Lights were predicted to be particularly active. With high hopes and warm coats, we ventured north. But, as with all things Mother Nature, she had her own plans. Our time in Iceland brought not a single snowflake, let alone the lights.

Still, the trip was nothing short of fantastic. We got to experience the unique magic of Nordic Christmas traditions, local sites steeped in history, and indulged in  Icelandic cuisine. We explored the icy beauty of an ice cave and stood in awe before real, flowing lava. It was an adventure filled with so many amazing experiences, even without the Aurora, and we only saw the the tip of iceberg (haha...see what I did there)...

While the Northern Lights remain on my bucket list, this journey reminded me of something important: sometimes, the pursuit itself is the reward. The memories we made and the places we saw on this trip were more than enough. So, I will keep chasing Aurora! 

Happy 2025!

 

As the calendar flips to a new year, I've chosen a single word to guide me: Bloom. For years, I’ve embraced the tradition of selecting a word for New Year’s reflection rather than making resolutions. But this year, I struggled to settle on just one. Too many words felt right, each capturing a piece of what I hope 2025 to bring! This morning, as I wandered through my local nursery, surrounded by - yes - blooms, the word found me. It felt like a quiet nudge, a perfect representation of what I want to see happen in 2025.

Reflecting on 2024, it has been a year - not necessarily bad, just a lot. I’ve had to say goodbye to some things and people that were deeply important to me. It would be a lie if I said I didn’t miss them every day. But, I have also found perspective, clarity, and the beginnings of long overdue and deserved healing.

Bloom is not just about flourishing; it’s about process and patience. Flowers don’t burst into full bloom overnight. They endure dark soil, unpredictable weather, and it all takes time. In many ways, I’m still in the soil stage! Growth isn’t always comfortable, but it’s always worth it. I hope to nurture seeds of joy, love, and dreams I’ve held close for so long. I’m ready to bloom in ways I have never allowed myself to truly imagine much less act upon. I am going to reach for the light, to grow strong roots, and to let beauty and my life unfold at its own pace.

To anyone reading this, I hope your year is filled with moments that remind you of your strength and potential. May 2025 bring you joy, love, and the life you dream of. Here’s to blooming - together!

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens...Ecclesiastes: 3:1 NIV

When Christmas Looks Different

I used to be a Christmas nut.  I would torture (or at least they claim) my children with Christmas songs as soon as the first hint of Fall approached.  I decorated every corner and multiple Christmas Trees.  I hosted friends, family, and neighbors. I cooked and baked with joy. I took lots of family photos and tried to pick the perfect gifts. Year round I made check lists and did Christmas crafts in preparation for my beloved season. I thoughtfully created traditions and hopefully memories for my family. I tried to keep Christ at the center of celebrations. 

So, when Christmas rolls around it feels like it should be a warm, familiar embrace. But this year, Christmas looks different; the usual routines have shifted, loved ones are far away, and life’s unexpected turns have finally wiped away the comfort of traditions and there aren’t new ones yet in place. I also know that new traditions aren’t likely to emerge any time soon, especially ones that resemble what my life-long “ideal’ of what Christmas should be.

This year, I can’t help but feel disconnected from the usual Christmas spirit. In some ways it is hard to find excitement when the season feels foreign, as if the magic has slipped through my fingers. And yet, maybe it’s okay to sit with these feelings for a while.

The familiar family gatherings, filled with laughter and the clinking of dishes, which honestly, have been slowly changing over the last few years, have now faded into quieter, smaller moments, which isn’t all bad. It’s not anger, I feel—just a deep sadness for what’s been lost. Traditions that once felt unshakable have shifted, and the absence of loved ones dull some of the sparkle of the season. Still, amidst this holiday funk, there is a quiet gratitude for the memories and a gentle hope that new traditions find their place in time. In this season of quiet there is more time to remember truly why we celebrate...the birth of a Savior.

For me, change is a hard gift to unwrap anytime, especially when it comes to family. It can feel like a loss, a reminder of what once was. It is tinged with a touch of loneliness.  Yet, I am learning there’s beauty in learning to let go—in finding joy and true meaning even when the season’s usual routines are just memories.  I think the greatest lesson a different kind of Christmas has taught me is the art of letting go. Letting go of expectations. Letting go of the need for control. Letting others chose their paths. Letting go of what was, to make room for what is and what could be. In this surrender, there is peace.

Discovering the Blue Zone: A Journey to Health and Longevity

 

As I pack my bags for a much needed adventure I will be digging into The Blue Zones Challenge! What’s a Blue Zone, you ask? Well, I first stumbled upon this fascinating concept through a Netflix documentary that opened my eyes to a lifestyle that transcends mere longevity. It’s not just about living longer; it’s about living better, thriving even.

The term “Blue Zone” refers to specific regions around the world where people live significantly longer and healthier lives than average. These areas have been studied because of their populations, who reach age 100 at rates much higher than the rest of the world. These 100 year olds aren’t just alive but they are living and embracing life.  

The documentary I watched was like a lightbulb moment for me. It revealed that the secret to longevity isn’t found in complicated diets or expensive supplements. Instead, it’s rooted in a holistic, simple way of life that prioritizes community, purpose, and natural living. 

As I looked more into the Blue Zone philosophy, I’ve come to appreciate the key principles that contribute to a long, fulfilling life:

1. Plant-Based Diet: In these regions, the majority of the diet is plant-based, focusing on whole foods like fruits, vegetables, legumes, and nuts. I love that it is about nourishment from real foods rather than supplements.

2. Active Lifestyle: Physical activity is woven into daily routines rather than relegated to the gym. Whether it’s gardening, walking, or hiking, I can do these things without expensive gym memberships or equipment.

3. Strong Social Connections: Community is paramount in Blue Zones. This is a challenge in today’s world. The Blue Zones reminder us that relationships are vital for emotional well-being.

4. Sense of Purpose: Many centenarians in Blue Zones have a clear sense of purpose, often referred to as ‘Ikigai’ in Japan. HUGE!

5. Stress Reduction: Life in the Blue Zones is often slower-paced, with rituals like napping, prayer, or simply enjoying the sunset. I am not good at this and probably one of the main reasons this concept resonated with me.  I plan to intentionally embrace moments of mindfulness and relaxation, and create more balance in my life..

I can’t help but believe that there’s something profoundly liberating about adopting this holistic approach to health. It’s not just a trend; it’s a way of life that honors our bodies, minds, and spirits. After all, life is not just about adding years to our lives; it’s about adding life to our years. Here’s to finding my Blue Zone and living my best life!