Coming home to the lake.

One of the little girls came up to me as I was picking the kids up from camp. She pointed to the words on my shirt, then looked around the room.

"Hey, there is someone else with the same words on their shirt. And yesterday there was another one."

I told her that those were my boys and the shirts were part of our family business in helping people feel amazing.

I am the only mom who shows up wearing a utility belt, leggings, cowboy hat and crazy hair. I remember being 17 and moving from Europe to this same state and having a bit of a different look and vibration. I loved it then because it played into my dramatic need to be all of me. And I love it now, because for the first time in a long, long time, I feel comfortable to show up as just me, all of me, again. Finding the freedom inside of authentically arriving each day (as mama-nurturer-business woman-lover-partner-home making goddess) instead of the safety inside of hiding behind the differences.


I made a deal with myself when I moved out of The Loft that from the moment I stepped onto the earth, the sand, the ground at the Lake House, that I would allow myself to explore my next iteration fully.

There are a few layers to the exploration. One is my relationship with my lover, my best friend, my twin flame.

A few months ago I found an amazing healer to guide me through some crazy tough edges we were having inside of our relationship, which is the most intense thing either of us has ever felt.

At one of our sessions she said that we were both still showing up as protecting ourselves first, fighting for ourselves, for our safety. That most of our explosiveness and fights were because in our triggers we cut off our connection to empathy and compassion for the other and just start to save ourselves from the pain and fear of losing the other. Or of the hurt that has come from past experiences.

And then she talked about the water as metaphor.

How we can look into the water when it is still as glass and see ourselves clearly. And in partnership this happens when we aren't judging, placing our own fears on the other or being mean or manipulative. When we allow our love to be held with compassion and empathy, they can see themselves so clearly.

And then there are the ripples, the waves that come over the water and all of a sudden their image is shattered, broken up, morphed. They can't see themselves or be themselves. This is when we aren't giving them space and we are placing our own fears above our love for them. We take away their ability to see themselves, to feel themselves, to love us unconditionally because their own image is gone.

And then I started to cry.

Because metaphors. Because water. Because shit, that is how I want to love. I want him to feel safe and held and supported and to see himself as the amazing human he is.

And I want that. I want to have the adoration and care that will allow me to stand on the dock and see myself again. Or, for the first time.


This past Sunday I came home to the lake. I cleaned the Loft from top to bottom, got in my van and drove all 5 kids home with me. There were tears from my Lucas when I showed him pictures of the Loft without anything inside of it. There was a beautiful conversation about how this is our home for the summer and how blessed we are, because who gets to live at a lake house all summer??? There was gratitude. There was the question over and over about when my love would arrive, they all love him beyond words.

And when he arrived I made waves. I could feel my entire body splashing the water and making it so rough he couldn't see himself or feel himself or be himself.

I was triggered and scared.

Then I remembered the promise I made to myself. That when I stepped onto the earth, the sand, the ground at the Lake House, that I would allow myself to explore my next iteration fully.

Inside of this iteration, inside of the trust of letting him care for me in ways I am still wrapping my head around, I want to stop fighting for safety. I want to stop showing up as my fear and making so many waves because I am terrified of being left.

This level of iteration changes us completely. If I choose to show up fully as me, fully fully fully me, all of me ... then he will be able to see himself, feel himself, trust himself.

What if I stop making these huge waves in the water and instead climb into our truck with my crazy hair and let the waves spill out of me as vibrational joy?


Coming home to the lake. The earth. The sand. The water.

All of us together. All of us safe. All of us held.

Showing up like that shirt we all wear says...


Love is my superpower. It is time the reflections in the water allow us to feel that.