Pushing to Peace
I used to live in fear.
A fear so deep it had me pushing like a freight train up a mountain—all effort, all grit, no pause.
Sparks and smoke flew off of me, burning out my energy and scorching the people I loved.
I moved like a wild woman, driven by one core belief: I was alone.
My father had died.
My mother was surviving on the goodwill of my brothers.
The man I married was sick.
And somewhere in the quiet, I made a decision:
It’s up to me. I must do it all. I must hold it all.
“ Not this Door”
Recently, I applied to attend the TED Women’s Conference in San Diego.
I was excited.
I pictured myself among a vibrant, inspiring community of women—learning, connecting, being lit up.
And then the email arrived.
“Thank you for applying. Due to an overwhelming number of applicants…”
You know how that goes.
I wasn’t chosen.
In that moment, I felt the familiar sting of rejection.
“I’m Wild”
✧ Wild Like This
I’ve been spending as much time as I can at Limantour Beach in Point Reyes.
I’ve fallen in love with this place.
The beach is 8 miles off the main road, surrounded by the untamed wildlife of Northern California.
I sit quietly and watch the pelicans fly in formation over the waves.
I laugh at crows and gulls as they wobble up the beach in 30-mile winds.
Last Sunday, I watched an eagle chase off six vultures from the body of a dead seal.
Energy Never Lies
The Truth Always Leaks Out
It was 7:00 a.m. I stood in line with a box of tampons and some Advil.
When it was my turn, I handed them to the clerk. She smiled and asked how I was doing.
With my best smile, I said, "I’m fine."
She looked me straight in the eye and said, “You’re a liar.”
I burst out laughing—because she was right.
When I asked how she knew, she said the Advil and tampons were one clue.
But mostly, it was my voice. “You sounded miserable.”
She didn’t just hear me. She felt me.