I almost didn't write this

The blog post you didn't get was supposed to be delivered on or around International Women's Day.

I didn't finish it. I didn't have the heart. I didn't feel as positive as I sounded.

Winter has been brutal — and I don't just mean the weather. The Epstein files. The wars. The daily erosion of human decency and care. I've been thinking about you, sitting with what I wanted to say, and struggling to find the will to say it when the world keeps making the case that what I care most deeply about — protecting children, honoring the earth, speaking and writing the truth — doesn't matter.

Add to that, seasonal depression is real, and so is being so sensitive that you can feel other people's feelings. Some of what makes me good at this work — the attunement to other people's feelings — also means I absorb the world's grief. And I think we’re all trying to balance being good global citizens and protecting ourselves in a historical moment that is utterly out of balance. 

Noticing my funk, a dear friend insisted I spend a few days at her beachfront condo in Florida. I got lucky beyond measure — 84 degrees and sunny the entire time. Three perfect sunsets. A phenomenal host. Two books I’ve been wanting to read for the longest. And somewhere in all of that, I realized I could keep going. I'm taking you with me.

So I'm back in the saddle, riding this fire-horse year into the sunset, starting with a fantastic collaboration with J. Anderson’s bookstore in Larchmont, NY. So you’ll need to be kinda local for that, and if you’re bummed you’re not…shoot me a note inquiring about my online classes.

I did revisit what I started writing for International Women's Day, and I'll get a version of it to you in good time — I promise.

Meanwhile, here's a link to the J. Anderson’s collaboration. Please read it, share it with anyone who might be interested (thank you!), and by all means write back to tell me how you're doing. (I LOVE it when ya’ll do that💕)

Sending big love — even if my heart feels a little broken rn. Hey, maybe that's where the light gets out.