This past week I was helping a client through something that comes up for a lot of us: getting stuck in self-critical spirals. Since this is such a common topic I come across, I thought I'd share it with you all: She came to me with trying to move past those intrusive thoughts that say things like "you're not enough, that person is never going to truly love you" or "you're going to be stuck forever." Here's what I shared with her. You don't get to choose the thoughts that pop into your mind. They come from past experiences, patterns, external triggers. But you do get to choose how you respond to them. Once you notice the thought, you have a choice. You can entertain it. Keep thinking it. Keep playing out all the ways it's true and where that leads. That path will take you somewhere anxious and heavy and maybe hopeless. Or you can redirect. Shift your focus. For her, because the thoughts were leaving her with sadness and this real feeling of heaviness, I suggested gratitude. Not as a bypass, but as a genuine redirect. Instead of letting the mind spiral into the negativity, walk back through your day and name the beautiful things. Actually feel grateful for them. When she was a little apprehensive, I reminded her that simply waking up is a gift, and asked her to walk me through her morning from there. You can also rewrite the thought directly. If the thought is "I'm not enough", rewrite it: "I am absolutely enough, and here's all the evidence that's true." Then fill it in. Now here's something to note: this sounds simple. In theory it is. But in practice it's hard. If it were easy, we'd all just shift out of these spirals. We don't. This is exactly why we practice mindfulness. It's what builds the muscle of awareness, so we can actually notice our thoughts instead of being consumed by them. So we have space to choose a different path. When we get stuck in the loop, we get stuck in our heads. We disconnect from our bodies, from our inner wisdom, from our truth. That's why this work matters. It takes us out of the mind and back into ourselves.

My boyfriend and I just wanted a chill night in last night. Nothing special, so we put on the movie Soul from Disney+, and I wasn't expecting much, but it ended up moving me to tears. The film is about a jazz musician who spends his whole life waiting to arrive. Waiting for the moment his dream finally happens, convinced that's when his real life begins. On the day he got his big break, he had an accident and found himself on his way to the "great beyond." And what the film shows, so beautifully, is that while he was waiting, life was already happening. In the small things. The ordinary things. The things he kept walking past. Then today I was re-reading a mindfulness book this morning and came across something that stopped me the first time around, so I had highlighted and written a few notes in the margin.... It was about how we spend more than half our lives on autopilot. More than half, actually. Lost in thought, planning, replaying, criticising ourselves, somewhere in our minds other than where we actually are. And most of that mind wandering isn't even neutral. It's negative. It's self-critical... we've just learned to think that's our normal. But more than anything, it struck me that more than half our lives are spent not really here. And I thought about the film again. As we all know, it's not the destination, it's the journey. We've heard it a thousand times. But knowing it and actually living like it's true are such different things. Because the journey isn't the big moments, it's this. Right now. The morning light. The hot beverage in your hands. The slow Sunday. The in-between moments. This is what gives life its colour. This is the whole point. Presence isn't a luxury or a spiritual practice reserved for people with time to meditate. It's the difference between living your life and watching it pass. One of my favourite ways to come back into the present is a sensory scan. Because our senses cannot be in the past or the future, they are only ever available right now.

Hello lovelies, It's been a while since I checked in on here, so I just wanted to take a moment to give you all an update. I've been moving through some things within my personal life, as well as holding space through the first cohort of the 33 Day Initiation into the Embodied Feminine, which has been such a beautiful experience and brought up so much within me and took up much of my capacity as I was recording daily coaching, meditation, rituals, and so on. The feedback has been so, so, so positive and has made my love for this work and helping women truly step into their most embodied and magnetic selves so much stronger. I am happy to say, though, that I will be back on here, showing up in the community regularly. I have so many reflections to share, and to start, I want to really dive into the idea of self-trust. This came up so much for me while putting out the Embodied Feminine. On a conscious level, I know that the information that I am sharing is extemely valuable and that I spent years of my life learning from the source, distilling and making sense of the teachings, and then embodying this wisdom within me so that I can share from a grounded place, but even with my "external" qualitifcations and the embodied practice, my self-trust became shakey as I watched the women move through, thoughts of self-doubt and craving for validation that it was good were creeping up. I watched my inner critic start to say things like, "you don't know what you're doing,," "why should anyone listen to you?" etc... and the beauty and irony of this is that this exact program works through a lot of these topics, self-worth, inner critic, and the whole thing builds self-trust... And while this could have sent me into a spiral or paralyzed me from continuing (and maybe a few years ago it would have), I sat with it, and there was (of course) a learning to be learned. The self-doubt that came up as I stepped further into my purpose, as I stretched into something bigger than I had done before, was the initiation that I needed to step through for my next "level"

Here's the thing about making plans. I came into 2026 ready. Like, ready ready. I had my goals mapped out, my content batched, my intentions set. I was going to hit the ground running.... build the community, launch the program, show up consistently. I felt that familiar buzz of momentum, that "let's do this" energy that comes with a fresh start. And then life said: "Not so fast." First, the dog I was babysitting went missing. A windstorm blew the door open and she was just... gone. Two full days. The longest two days of my life. I was in the middle of hosting the Root to Rise immersion trying to hold space for other women to ground and come home to themselves, while my own nervous system was in complete overdrive. Searching the streets of Bali, calling her name, posting everywhere, barely sleeping. She came back eventually, but I was wrecked. Then I found out the apartment I'd planned to live in for the entire year? I have to move out in February. The place I'd just settled into, where I'd finally unpacked my altar and arranged my space exactly how I wanted it, and now I get to do it all over again. And between those two things, a dozen other small disruptions. Plans shifting. Things not going the way I thought they would. The kind of month where every time you think you've caught your breath, something else comes up. I used to spiral when this happened. I used to think it meant I was doing something wrong. That I wasn't aligned. That the universe was testing me or punishing me or blocking me somehow. I'd panic, try to control everything tighter, force things back on track. But here's what I'm learning (and re-learning, because these lessons keep coming back until we truly embody them): Life doesn't care about your plan. It cares about your growth. And sometimes growth looks like learning to trust when everything feels uncertain. So instead of fighting it, instead of white-knuckling my way through January, forcing myself to stick to the plan I made when the year was still shiny and new, I softened my grip.

December always does this thing where everything speeds up... the holiday plans, the pressure and deadlines, the emotions of being home with family and knowing I am going to say goodbye again soon... And at the same time, I naturally start reflecting on my year. I look at who I’ve been, who I’m becoming, and what I want for myself. And I love that part of this month... But in these reflections, I am seeing a truth that I can’t ignore: I can’t become the next version of myself if I’m still holding onto the old one. She was built for a different chapter of my life, and I’m not in that chapter anymore. One thing I’ve really had to face this year is how easily I distract myself from the things that actually matter. I’ll tell myself I’m “busy,” or I “don’t have time,” when really, I’m avoiding the thing that scares me. I can look back and see so many moments where instead of working on something important, something that mattered to me, something that asked more of me... I’d drift into tasks that felt easier, safer, less confronting. And underneath all of that? Fear. Fear of being seen. Fear of putting out something imperfect. Fear of stepping into the version of me who actually wants more. I’m realizing I can’t take that with me into 2026. It's time to let go, and create space for the next version of me. I’m letting go of the feeling that everything needs to be perfect before I share it. I’m letting go of the habit of hiding behind “busyness.” I’m letting go of the tightness in my chest that tells me, “Don’t try this yet. It’s not ready. You’re not ready.” Letting go, for me, has shown up in these tiny, honest moments where I can feel my old pattern activate. It’s a real physical thing, the tightness in my chest, that wave of anxiety right before I say yes to something I don’t have capacity for… or right before I avoid something I actually want. And it’s in those moments that I see the truth: I can’t choose differently if I’m not present, and I can't let go if I keep choosing the old patterns.