if you travel far enough.


"If you travel far enough,

one day you will recognize yourself

coming down the road to meet you.

And you will say


~ Marion Woodward

An answer to a beautiful question...

Sometimes I wake up and I have pains from my head down my jaw and into my shoulders. Maybe sinus,maybe clenching, maybe stress but most likely all three. I should take stock in Motrin.

I get panic attacks. They have become more like waves than sitting outside the emergency room waiting for the impending heart attack. Those were last year. This year the waves.

My kids fight a lot of the time and it brings me to my knees. And then I yell and knees aren't low enough for how I fall.

I put on weight when I am in a place of unknowing, or cocooning, or feeling scared. And then looking in the mirror is hard. I do it anyway and it can feel like physical pain to know that I am back here again. Learning the same thing over and over and over.

And over. And needing the next size jeans.

I forget to drink water. I wish I could be hooked up to an IV and hydrated once a week. Sometimes I even buy a gatorade and drink it as fast as I can.

I am driving on two flat tires because making appointments to have things or teeth or body parts fixed is not my strength.

I killed my daughter's fish, got mad at Patrick last night because I didn't think he was being supportive (think being the word here) and let my 8 year old stay home because I didn't want to be alone today.

When I got my circle tattoo on my finger they didn't close the circle. I thought they did. But they didn't. And I believe it is the Universe giving me a sign and maybe someday I will close it. Or not.

Sometimes I hurt when I think friends no longer like me or don't need what I give. When I put my heart into things and then feel sad. The fear of losing relationships a constant and getting lost in that, but more than that. Knowing that it does happen and I will be OK. I will be OK.

Some days I can't find my gratitude and I feel like I complained and hid and threw tantrums.

There are memories that haunt me and cycle back into my body and I want to free them.

I am intense and it can be a lot for others to hold.

At 6pm I realize I have nothing for dinner.

This is why my hot cup of coffee each morning made for me with love is sacred.
This is why I wear beautiful jewelry every day and dress myself for how I want to feel.
This is why I pray through words, altars, surrender, tea bags, giggles, connection, texts.
This is why fresh flowers matter.
This is why I send love notes through Fb, texts, the mail, feathers, lipstick, emails.
This is why the picture of the feather my daughter drew for me reminds me that she is watching.
This is why I circle with women who believe in magic and risk and doing things that feel out of their comfort zone.
This is why I keep trying and hoping when every sign points to the shitstorm.
This is why soulwork saves my soul.
This is why there are so many pictures of me on Instagram.
This is why one bite of a chocolate cupcake wearing a vegan leather jacket can feel like a tiny piece of bliss.
This is why gratitude looks like a piece of pie or meeting your girlfriend at the mall on a Wednesday night or patience for feelings you have inside.
This is why I often send out the SOS text for a bottle of red around 5:00pm.
This is why that hug on the beach, barefoot and crying will happen. Over and over.
This is why when I find a shirt that feels like heaven on my skin I buy 4. And then 5.
This is why I don't have to ask how you feel but rather how you want to feel inside of your beautiful dreams.
This is why your stories are mine. Mine yours. And every word is precious.
This is why beautiful is one of my favorite words and joy lives in my gut.
This is why I no longer try to make everyone happy but rather live in my truth.
This is why the irony of scared and sacred isn't lost on me.
This is why there is no doubt magic exists.
This is why love takes so many shapes. Even an unclosed circle.
This is why I love this life now.
This is why I say thank you to my own heart.
This is why when I go to bed I think about who I want to be the next day.
This is why waking up to that coffee is my starting moment, with each sip telling me a story of now.

This is why.

Because it isn't happening to me, it is happening within me.

This is why.

The shifts that I can make blow my mind. So can the sadness I feel. So can the love.

This is why seeing how much beauty exists, even inside of pain, forever guides me.

This is why I travel.

This is my yes.


(From Thursday morning love letter from me to you. Sign up in the box up there on the right to receive your little Thursday morning love.)

My answer.

Photo Ruth Clark Photography.

Mini Manifesto

mini manifesto

I've been exhausted lately. The result of going full force since about January. Travelling, getting a Loft and turning it into magic, running course after course, finding more space for social time than I have in years and some deep shadow work are probably why. Probably.

But I prefer to pretend I must have some wacky illness, be like, really sick. Something must be wrong for me to be tired. To take 3 days off from working. To sleep crazy hours. To skip yoga. To want to go back to bed an hour after I wake up. To feel my anxiety slipping in. To be so bloated and irritable.

Yesterday on my third day of needing huge space from computers and phones and the to-do list I made just to coax myself out of my exhaustion, I realized I was just tired. Tired. And maybe the stuffy nose and cough are showing up to slow me down just a bit.

And instead of anything getting crossed off the to-do list I quickly wrote a mini manifesto.

So here I am.

Learning to pace myself to the beat of my heart.

Later I'll probably take a nap and then make a beautiful dinner.

Might even have a grapefruit mimosa.

Sometimes we need to call ourselves back home.


After my days of rest I am going back into these days. This process and practice is what grounds me and helps me come back to me, to my home, to my ritual that keeps time. We start June 10th and the group of women joining is making my heart happy.

making space new photo




hand on tree

In the cracks I am falling through your words.

In the cracks I am the hardness of your bicep where my head rests, has always known.

In the cracks I am inside your endless disregard of my zenith of awakening.

In the cracks I am the quiet kiss that the beep affirms, that plays with my pleasure - insatiable for your notice.

In the cracks I am your spirit lover, the one who impinged your feelings...the ones that my wings would soon set free.

In the cracks -your cracks- I am fucked-up, hands together over the place that holds breath -my breath- and I want my reflection back.

In the cracks I am your one time longing, feather falling, the one that swims through pulsing white rocks filling space of emptiness.

In the cracks I am young art, folded in wrapped scarves. Draping my belly from sight.

In the cracks I am the opening of my secrecy, my floating eyes, the clench of a pelvis searching for breath.

In the cracks I am slipping in each, in each, in each.

In the cracks I am falling through words.



Highly sensitive lists.


highly sensitive lists

she has a fever.

i get up after she finally falls to sleep, hours of waking, 'mama my stomach hurts,' and i can't make it stop.

i clear off the tiny kitchen table that has been covered in stuff for weeks.

the coffee smells like everything. memories, joy, longings, pleasure.

where are the kids thursday, what do i leave for dinner.

without my mother, Patrick, best friends, this travel wouldn't be possible. deep gratitude for the village.

packing list. i can't forget my favorite shirts. how many boots can i cram inside the tiny red case.

little sleep the days before travel.

my mind revolves, i see the prescription for xanax that i think about filling every time before i fly. and never have.

i am about to land in a state that held my life for almost 4 years. i have changed so much.

the young girl who left 14 years ago returns as a woman.

i have curves now. babies. desires filled and filling.

tattoos now grace my skin and the long hair that was cut off there is now returning. and i adore it.

both boys sleeping on the couch as i sip the coffee and sit in the tiny kitchen. i love this kitchen.

when i asked him to leave that home that was once ours he agreed. but i know the decision hurt him. he loved it there. i was so lost.

i feel peace at the east's oceans. never as settled as i am when my feet are buried in her sand.

i feel healing at the west's oceans. my adventure, longings, excitement on her shores.

the whole house sleeps. dog snores.

i make the lists. target. art supplies. i want to go out for breakfast.

the yellow pages pull my anxieties and delights together.

let it rain on your soul. my vision board holds these words.

birds are singing. coffee cold.

he is stirring.

my stomach rumbles. i am grateful. the lists pull my wandering mind back in.

for one moment i relax. and think about what i will have for breakfast.

A love addict is not born.

flowers on white stool

A love addict was not how I thought I would be defined but once my marriage coach said it something stirred inside. I had this powerful yes float up from my gut to my head. I felt truth.

Our biggest fear as a love addict is being left, abandoned. We crave intimacy and connection and yet in love relationships we do not know how to receive postitive intimacy. We push away while being needy. If we start to see healthy intimacy we want to run. We have expectations of our partners that go beyond healthy. We are starving and feed ourselves only crumbs.

A cupcake is sickening when you are used to eating crumbs. Don't get me started on cake.

My hunger.

For the past few months I have been looking in the mirror and seeking truth.

I have been starving for freedom from this addiction.

Having this knowledge feels like the moment I first heard what a highly sensitive person was. It was like an opening for me to be myself for the first time. It has taken me years to start integrating the past sensitive me with the now sensitive me. It brings me pleasure to know the truth of who I am so that I can show up in light.

My light.

My voice has been quiet recently. Quiet in this public space, reaching out to only my closest few for support and intimacy in the healthiest ways I know. But I want to talk about all of it. I am not afraid to be vulnerable but I am afraid of stuffing this truth inside. I am afraid that if I don't start to talk about it my voice will start to fade.

My voice.

"Eventually, as Love Addicts try harder and harder to manipulate the other person to live up to the mental image they have created-- that is, someone who will care for and love them the way they long to be cared for and loved-- they experience repeated disappointments, because no one can satisfy these insatiable desires." - Facing Love Addiction by Pia Mellody (this is the book, if you feel called to learn more because I am giving very little description in this post, it is life shifting)

The love addict typically is in partnership with a love avoidant, who is also not born. He becomes as survival. (This is not gender specific, just for myself.) We are all born as pure love but every moment we are shaped.

I remember my first baby, two weeks old, she would cry every day for about a total of 9 hours. By the end of the day I would be a puddle of tears and anger and sadness and shame. Even her tiny two week old body was responding to her world, to her stimulus, to things that I couldn't find a way to fix.

My fears.

I am afraid of my loneliness. Of being alone after starving for so long. And that is why I am called to be with this, to be with myself and cupcakes. To accept that I can have that fucking frosting without freaking out.

Recently, I had this aha moment that I am not an introvert as I had always thought. I am a highly sensitive extrovert who craves people and laughter and connection but I can so easily become filled up and overstimulated and if I am not truly interested in the conversations or people-- 'pretending' is like kryptonite. I become weak.

I love being with my kids but I am so easily overstimulated by them that sometimes it feels like pain inside. I fear watching my daughter repeat my patterns and as I watch my husband start to change I see her move farther and farther from that repetition. I fear raising boys who will not know how to be present or show up in love and then my four year old touches my hair and sings, "Om Shanti Shanti" in the most loving way possible and my eyes fill with tears.

I fear that this addiction will never allow me to know the joy of being filled by healthy intimacy. With myself first. Without crumbs. I fear not being able to eat cake.

My truth.

I have been working my ass off the last few years to get to this truth. To be able to look in my own eyes and say, "this is me." This is me.

Now together with my husband we are showing up and doing the work together. He has a shitload to do and so do I. And I feel so gently strong and beautiful as I walk this path. We have no idea where we will end together but we are both willing to show up because joy is what we both desire as personal destination. Joy is our guide.

I have such love for who I am and who I am becoming and who I was. I fall into vulnerability regularly. I sit in silence with myself. I reach out when I crave connection without judgement, simply as my practice of healthy boundaries. I notice when it is out of desperation or truth.

My boundaries.

This is where I find myself landing now. Understanding boundaries.

My marriage coach has asked me to no longer take responsibility for others' feelings, because they are not mine. This is my hardest and most beautiful journey in this moment. To allow those who I have extreme intimacy with to have their feelings without it being about me.

I find an inbox filled with words advising me to change the colors of my daily emails and demands that seem to come out of nowhere. And I am learning to breathe and not take them on. They are not my story.

When my kids fight and I want to explode, I am clenching everything I can clench and counting to 3 as slowly as I can. I am praying that one day I won't be clenching, simply counting. For now, I must.

I am learning how to create healthy friendships where I don't get lost but can ask for support-- and this one, receive. Oh, receive. Without having to give as my exchange for receiving. Tough shit my loves, tough, tough shit this boundary work.

My thank you.

This is me. This, is me.

Fully, unapologetically, me.

Let's keep going. I am so ready for all of it.

Thank you for being here, for being a landing place for these words and for my prayer that all that I continue to journey through becomes what I teach and guide.

Thank you for the bravery to look into your own eyes and say...

This is me.

this is me


The New Rules of Marraige by Terrance Real

Facing Love Addiction by Pia Mellody

Video with Terrance






like this.

Like this rumi

like this. i want to feel you harder.

like this. fly away.

like this. my hands together i release you.

like this. it pulls you back.

like this. the point that pricks me.

like this. dust in the sun.

like this. anger in my gut, anger down to my toes.

like this. that sweet bite, and the salt.

like this. morphing.

like this. i feel it in the cracks, the sticky notes, the marks down on time.

like this. i will scream.

like this. i will laugh while my side aches.

like this. slide down underneath the clock.

like this. now my sweet.

like this. i want to feel you harder.

like this.

Beautiful Faces. Magical Places.

I am eager for the lists that make their way out on sleepy Friday mornings. Today I am a snow you can suck it kind of woman.

Love this woman. Love even more that she wrote this post and unknowingly to me I found the book a few weeks later. Bam.

One of my stunning clients who breathes life into herself through her words.

My gorgeous VA sent this to me, and yes. Just yes.

So honored.

More honor. Seriously, this still takes me by surprise that people ask me to answer their questions. Blessed.

Grab tissues. Just sayin'.

I adore her work, her style, her all.

Just a few spaces left...

My newest obsession...love language like whoa.

Only slightly jealous. I am adoring this woman and the work whe is bringing to the world.

More tissues, and I am in love with light. Shine baby, shine.

I remember the first time I said fuck on my blog, I was so scared, but that was being truly me. Now, no fears.

Michelle wore these in NYC for her gorgeous event, and look at this!!!

Thank you sweet one, so blessed to have your friendship!

Love, love, love the poetry.

So, yes, these are the scarves I've been wearing, love them.


Remembering the good witch.

"I remember thinking this was the most feeling person I had ever found and I thought it was just all too much."

This was from one of the women in my tribe who has made such gentle, soft changes to her life over the last year. I was cracking up as she told me her reaction to my blog when she first started reading. She went on, "I thought it was too much but I couldn't stop reading it. I was hooked, I read every word."

What she didn't know then was that she was a highly sensitive person. While she had spent years being told to numb out her feelings here I was rolling them out for the world and inviting her along. Giving her permission to feel, feel, feel.

Often my clients say I have a magic wand. The wand is magic simply because we all are born with magic.

I found myself recently spiraling inside of created feeling rather than truth feeling.This is the place were you push the edge of sabotage. I wanted someone to get angry at me. I was searching for a push away so that I didn't have to feel that one tricky emotion that I have become so adept at stuffing down.


But more than that this time, a new sadness, one inside of dreams coming true. Sadness that must flow through as the magic twirls around.

Oh yes, the peeling. The layers. 

The feeling we have been dreaming into reality one day is there, shows up. And we want to run.

I wanted to run, to do something to prove I didn't deserve it. To go back to the old ways that I know so well.

I walk into yoga, the theme of the night is surrender. I spend time with a friend and find myself hearing the word surrender fall from my lips. I come face to face with how I want to feel but the layers of sadness must be shed first, surrender. I am slipping into a healthy amount of space so I can radiate my light, surrender.

The fish shows up. Spirit guide that won't let me turn away.

Evolution of spirit. Awakening of one of the senses. Visions.

Swim, slide, glide, vision, ease, grace.

Remember the good witch? She tells Dorothy she had the power all along but how would Dorothy ever have known had she not walked with her spirit guides, experienced the fear and joy, shed her tears and slipped into surrender.

There is magic in feeling, accessing that huge exhale of surrender.

Magic wands of feeling, visions that arrive at 4am, peeling our old hurts. Hearts desiring anything we can dream into reality.

I will link arms with the fish, the witch, the surrender and skip on those yellow bricks.

Like a dance of magic I will ask you to follow, follow, follow...into your own truth feelings.

We aren't ever off the path, this journey goes on and on. Spirit guides will change as we call them forth, lessons will be relearned over and over.

And dreams, they will show up, you won't know what they will like look but you will have already known the feeling of them.

Slip like the fish inside of these beautiful dreams and surrender to the moment when you will say, "I created this. This magic has always been inside of me."

So now I say, "I created this. This magic has always been inside of me." 

And it feels so fucking good, even in the tears.


Please join myself and the 80 gorgeous women who are ready to surrender...






Beautiful Faces. Magical Places.

I am eager for the lists that make their way out on sleepy Friday mornings. Today I am a full of self care, full of decaf, full of excitement for all that is, full of joy because this life is so beautiful kind of mama. (What we focus on expands.)

These days I rarely read many blogs, I tend to reserve my time for my clients and close friends who are saying the words my heart needs to hear. But on this day, I saw the title of the post and had to read it. So glad I did.

This is crazy making. Crazy making. Crazy making.

I'm a tad bit in love with this one right now.

Thinking so much about how much I really need. I'm giving The Making Space Cleanse a make-over soon and I'm going to be focusing on this idea of enoughness.

So yeah, I might kinda get this Molly!!!!!!

It is work loves. Hard, hard work. I promise you this. Stay in the joy no matter where you are.

Fish keep showing up in my life, perhaps a spirit guide whisper? (Beautiful and gorgeous too!) And we have a little giveaway on the blog, don't forget to enter!

I am soooo excited for this, I'll be there, will you beloved?

It's about inclusion. Doesn't that kind of make your eyes water? Feast. Feast. Feast.

Can't stop listening to this one.

So honored to be in this lovely space with this sweet one.

I'm working on 50% this and 50% deep connections. That is my year.

And you? Where have you found beauty and magic?


You ask. I answer.

The questions keep pouring in from this post.

We can sum them up as, "How did you do it?" Here is how.

1. Be in it in truth.

I spent so many years with the pain in denial. I spent so many years with the pain in blame. I spent so many years with the pain in complete silence.

I didn't talk about it, no one really knew. I wanted to believe it was something that came from outside of me, that if I could just find the right pill to balance my estrogen I would be fine. But I eventually stopped even looking for the pill because nothing worked. And no one truly seemed to ever understand.

I remember the day I wrote to 3 of my sweet friends who also happen to be life coaches of the most amazing variety. It was a 'feeling sorry for myself' letter. I told them that I was so tired of feeling pain and flare ups and that I just wanted to sink into the couch and cry and pity myself. I was asking them permission to let it all go and just be in it.

They let me. They said, "Yes. Yes you deserve to feel pissed and sad and rotten. You deserve this moment to feel sorry for yourself. And now that you've had it, what now? What now? What is next?"

After I allowed myself to be in it, to finally surrender to the truth I decided to get help. Real help.

I am blessed to have an incredible Dr. to guide my way, but if I never told him or asked for his help I would just be living in the pain.

2. Stop doing it alone.

I went to the best of the best and got a million invasive sucky tests to determine what all of this was about. Then the specialist suggested surgery. I said no thank you. I was dealing with a triple of threat of issues, but it doesn't matter what they were, they just all needed to be addressed.

From there I found a physical therapist who specialized in pelvic floor and bladder.

I knew that the moment I walked into her office nothing would be the same because I was on the path to healing. Her work changed my life.

It is a huge commitment to go to therapy once a week. Huge. And I did it. I am still doing it. I am healing.

3. Deal with your shit. 

As I was doing the physical work of healing it triggered out all my stuff. All my stuffing. All my shit.

I tried really hard not to deal with it. One day I realized I had no choice.

Truth. Peeling. Allowing. Surrender. All of it. It was so flipping hard sometimes I couldn't move or breathe.

The amazing thing about the truth is that it sets you free to soar and it doesn't matter if it has been 20 years or two months. Do it, risk it, be in it and deal with it.

This life of mine is far too precious to be living any other way than in beauty. And it will suck sometimes getting to that beauty.

As you start to peel and tell the Universe what you want watch as every person who enters your life does so to support you moving into this truth. Every book you see, word you read and story you tell will draw you back towards the journey towards flight. Your flight.

Yes, it will probably rock your whole world and scare you. You will have to make decisions you've never wanted to face. You will risk hurting someone you love. And you won't want to do it because hurting someone feels wrong and scary. But what if your feeling good is the most truthful pure beauty you can bring to this lifetime? Wouldn't that mean that those around you could only be better once you started to fly?

Oh yes baby. Yes.

4. You deserve this.

Right? Maybe it takes you until 38 years old to know that. Maybe 56 or 87 or 28 (damn lucky 28 year old!). Your life has been guiding you towards this moment. The one where you stand naked and are vulnerable and raw and know that you deserve this.

To be whole. To be healed. To be so fucking in love with your life that you make everyone around you giddy with possibility.

Be in it in truth. Stop doing it alone. Deal with your shit. You deserve this.

That is how I am doing it.

Looking back at you.

I asked Patrick if he remembered the first time he saw me. I knew he did of course because he has told me the story many times. We were both in the theatre department and there was a party at a house out in the woods and all of us were gathering together for rides to the house.

I was coming out of a horrible heart-break but determined to get myself up and dressed and out to this party, the last before summer. I was 18 years old for reference! I started over to the meeting spot and I do remember him sitting in the back of a truck or something. Right about the same time the person who broke my heart showed up. Needless to say I didn't go to the party. I think I ran back to my dorm as fast as I could. Details of the heart-break not shared but I will say it was so completely devestating, even as I look back on it. I can't believe such a young soul had to be inside such sadness.

But Patrick will say he saw me and was really pleased I would be at the party. He said he thought I was beautiful but in such a different way than other people. He tells the story with words about how my style and who I was didn't seem the same as other 18 year olds. I wore a scarf every day, huge earrings, layers, hats...

He was bumming that I didn't go to the party.

My sense of self was so strong when I was younger. I remember it. I remember the feeling of being 19. I have always known how deeply our style translates who we are to people faster than words. It was how I communicated with my surroundings. No one was talking about HSP or females with ADD and I had yet to have my first panic attack.

The layers provided me with gentle comfort. The scarves held me grounded. The jewelry centering. I remember I used to come back to my dorm for a nap each day and I would strip off the layers down to leggings and a bodysuit. Oh yes, I said body suit, every day. (It was the 90's!)

As Patrick and I are both seeking healing in our own lives and in our relationship we find it so helpful to look back. To remember. To find the connections not just to our togetherness but to who we were.

To remember what we loved.

To remember what felt good.

To remember what made us laugh.

To remember the kind of people we loved spending time with.

To remember our why-s.

To remember our passion.

To remember our style.

To remember our movements.

Our dance.

Our spirit.

Our me.

At some point, I don't remember quite when, maybe when I got my first job and had to wear a uniform, or when I started to make decisions that went against my heart and gut, or when I was going through that slightly painful decade(s) of growing up - I started to disconnect. I do believe we are born with all of our answers and truths but the journey we are on is how we unearth them. I don't believe that journey is supposed to be free of mistakes or loss or regrets or missteps.

How could we reach these beautiful places without going through the whole emotional scale? The reason I believe in joy so deeply is because I believe in all emotions, all feelings and their validity to our purpose, to our being.

Every time I think how calm and slightly easy my life seems to be something happens. I go into the shake-up, the crazy-making, the lesson-learning, the heart-expanding.

These last 4 or 5 years have been about the journey back to me. Connecting back to the passion of that 19 year old girl in a woman's body with so much less fear. With a confidence that can only come with the seasoning of the soul. I've always felt like an old soul whose mission was to relearn and then guide others once I found the inner wisdom.

What I am asking of you is this:: Look back at you.

Grab yourself at any age where you felt connected and wise and free. When you climbed mountains or went on road trips or ran around on the beach in the nude. Free.

Don't go back and look at your mistakes, you've already grabbed the wisdom from them. Don't focus on regrets, they are spirit eaters. Don't blame. Dear me, don't blame others or yourself. That is baggage for the heart sad. We want heart happy.

That 19 year old wanted her nose pierced and to have tattoos and to live in NYC. She wanted to be madly in love inside of a passionate love affair and no marriage certificate. She desired becoming a mama always. She couldn't remember why she ever put down the guitar or was too afraid to take singing lessons. She always thought about belly dancing. A road trip across the United States made her tingle. She spent so much time thinking about rearranging furniture and going on auditions. She craved time barefoot in gardens and lying in the sun letting the Vit D soak into her skin. She loved making people feel good.

Now at 38 I can go back to her desires and align them with the me now. The strength that has come with the journey allows me to look back at her desires and peek at them next to my desires now. Part of my visioning process comes from her wishes too. She is me. I am her.

Look back at you.

Take the time to remember. Throw out the should-of could-of crap. You are you now.

White space. Beautiful canvas. Emerging feminine. Desirous spirit.



Feel. It.

Wherever you find yourself on this Christmas Eve, at a party, in your bathrobe, wrapping under the tree or sipping tea with a few tears...

It is OK to feel it.

Be there. Hold the nowness of it.

Know that feeling joy in our lives means that we get to feel everything so much more deeply. Joy doesn't kick all the other emotions out, it makes space, it opens you so that you can feel it all.

Joy is like a deep breath for your body so she/he may know the beauty of this life. Every choice. Every blink of our eyes. Every needle of the pine tree.

Can you practice a little soulwork today and pull yourself into your now. Can you be right here, let your head stop flowing into what-ifs and regrets? Can you stop making up expectations and feel the reality of where you stand or sit in this one still and ever changing moment?

I'll meet you there today. It is OK to feel it. The joy, the sadness, the missing, the longing, the giggles, the anticipation. Feel it and let that feeling pull you into your now. This one very moment. This one now.

Let the now open space. Let the now be your guide into your next breath.

Sending blessings. xo


The beautiful words you write I long to read. I am buried in my own thoughts, too deep to go there, to let them in.

The emails that flow in I want to dive into to let myself loose in another place and yet I can't click them open.

I go to turn left on red.

This isn't how I thought cracking open would feel. Scary, real, raw, passion, intense, power, shifting, open...

The release work on my muscles has opened something up far greater than tension release. It holds up what I don't want. It lets me close my eyes. It is the exhale I have been searching for but so scared of the breath.

I don't want discontent. I don't want loneliness. I don't want hiding. I don't want drugs. I don't want pain. I don't want heartbreak. I don't want what?

I start there so the path to my dreams may become more clear. From the not wanting into desire...desire...desire.

At 38, a women growing into herself, marking time on her body, feeling her way towards the light.

The light. Stars. Twinkle. Shine. There is more. I stretch to find it. Please let it be gentle.

The pain that pulses each time muscles are triggered to release is the pain that is triggered somewhere in the chaos of change. I should sleep after and I don't because words won't stop fighting their way out. I go from fear of nothing to an uncontrollable tangle of thoughts, feelings. Feelings.

More connection. I need to see you and share space with you. I want to share a circle and show you how to crack in the most gentle, loving way I know. My calling is to guide you towards your light and the only way is for me to crack first. The only way is the crack, of being blinded for the shortest of moments by the light.

And when the time comes to open our eyes after the bravery of staring into the sun, we will be open.

Because we cracked.

And we'll crack again.

Because this life is beautiful.


A gathering. A circle. A cracking. Through vision work. Spaces are still available. This is one of the final workshops at the legendary Teahouse Studio. Come circle with us...


Here are some past posts about my journey healing my pelvic floor. We are never alone. Never alone.

Anxiety and Breathe.

On the equinox.

Prayer. Feet. And the beauty.

As our body cries out.

The pain of the present.

Beautiful Faces. Magical Places.

She drew this for me.

I am eager for the lists that make their way out on sleepy Friday mornings. Today I am mixed up between all parts of who I am and the feelings inside and the need to sleep but hugging my hot cup of coffee closer because I don't have to know, right... kind of mama.

 I adore little acorn and used to do all sorts of things like this with my kids, hmmm....

I somehow see my spirit inside of this one, you know when art touches you in that way?

Yes, Liz and I still have our love affair going, we are helping eachother in so many ways, I am truly grateful.

I really want to write a what would happen post, but for now...

Next tattoo is probably stars, just saying.

FREE and Vivienne in the same sentence, go get yours.

Each year I feel the female guides I need show up to me and enter Julie.

"People are drawn to our brands by what they need from us to be more of themselves or to have the life they’re trying to create." Bam. Post that up on a vision board somewhere, tattoo it on your heart.

Feeling like I'm eggy and spermy all mixed up but have always identified with eggy, something to think about. [via Michelle]

So my workshop will be among the last at Teahouse, this was a manifesting dream come true and we have spaces available. Come vision with me and watch your life start to shift in magical ways because you are allowing it to.

Patrick travels with a gym bag while in his suits on the plane. This bothers me, thinking of getting him this...thoughts? (Patrick don't open link.)

This may need to be mine. Pow.

From one of my gorgeous clients who I look forward to our bi-weekly chats in enormous ways.


I don't offer information that doesn't need to find its way to my kids. I wait for them to ask, I wait for them to want to know because until then, they just don't need to. We all grow up soon enough right?


 Can't. Stop. Listening. To. This. Beautiful.

The prayer.

I say a prayer.

Whisper out desire to the Universe.

Cut words out of a magazine and glue them on a board.

On fallen knees a prayer that cries out from the gut. My heart.

Sometimes you start with what you don't want, in the darkness of the fears.

The prayer, the way we long to feel. The prayer, the voices of our past. The prayer, typed onto our spirit.

My spirit calls out.

Antler around my neck seeking deeper meaning, connectedness.

Fox shows up before the prayer ever came and my eyes find her everywhere. Passion, desire, intensity, expression.

This place I stand, this body I claim, feeling magical, gentle power my scent.

This knowing brings chaos. I search for the answer to the whisper. I want it now, time begging for clarity.

Fear it will fade if I don't stumble on the path of perfection.

The prayer, knowing without search. The prayer, a deep forgiveness. The prayer, compassion.

In the search I am reminded from the clouds, the rain, the smiles, the angels, the snuggles, the leaves under my feet...that prayer does not require our digging.

Prayer and magazine cut outs and whispers of desire are the place of our truth.

Closing my eyes, I hear the lack of an answer and a hush of space.

The prayer, opens us to space. The prayer, opens us to our change. The prayer, opens us to trust.

The prayer opens.




Spirits of joy is coming to CA...me and you!

I have a plane ticket. Some of my dearest friends are going to house me and laugh with me and let me breathe in the gorgeousness of a state I have never been too.

Vision Books and Stories of the Spirit.

This is the video for the DIY Spirits of Joy, I thought it would be fun to share with you all and I would be so blessed to sit, glue, laugh and possibly let a few tears flow if you are in the CA area. It will be magical.

Spirits of Joy 30 Prompts from Hannah Marcotti on Vimeo.

You can sign up for the workshop January 5th, 2013 here.


Sometimes I am humbled beyond words. I asked the Spirits of Joy Tribe (which you will be added to if you attend the workshop) if they could help me communicate the power of this work. Bam. I might have needed tissues.

"As a visual artist Hannah Marcotti and her Joy Book process have gently rocked my world. She has returned me to the JOY of my voice and my work. I am painting, creating, expressing again... and this time it all means so much more!"

"Vision Work. Gentle. Powerful. Joy creating. The most beautiful gift I've ever received, and the most joy filled soul work I've ever done. Gratitude and appreciation for all I have received from this."

"Hannah has changed my life...her thoughts and words are that good!"

"Visioning with Hanaah has opened my eyes and days up to Magic. Her often simple but very powerful prompts and poetic words never fail to inspire me and to help me gently dig a bit deeper to unearth what I truly seek in creating a life I love. I am truly grateful to have "found" her and know that this beautiful work will continue to be transformative."

"I have no idea how I found out about Hannah Marcotti but I'm so glad I did. I have worked with her one-on-one and taken part in her online programs. Through her gentle guidance and honest heart I have begun to feel joy again. This happened slowly and without my noticing. So very grateful!"

"It allowed me to SEE, and to dream bigger dreams, because I was able to SEE what is possible. It has guided me, and clarified my vision."

"I walked around each day glowing from within and with the sensation that I was surrounded by sparkles and magic! Hannah's courses are a gift for your soul."

"This new awareness of myself has led me to be more in tune with the universe, more focused on the magic around me and the joy in my life."

"I am inspired to dream, envision and set intentions for living a truly authentic, soulful and joy-filled life. She has a gift for encouraging depth & meaning through beauty and simplicity."

"Taking Hannah Marcotti's Spirits of Joy ecourse was transformational. Her gentle guiding prompts and her encouragement to be open to the possibilities of what the universe has to offer gave me the opportunity to listen to parts of my soul that have long been neglected, and to truly hear my heart sing her song of Truth. Finding my truth, finding my visions, looking at ways to manifest my desires for the future into the reality of today... all of this was brought to me by Hannah and I am deeply grateful for her and the joy she has inspired in my life."

"What I have learned is that there is joy everywhere, even in sadness, even in fear. Hannah taught me to honor how I feel and empowered me to grow my spirit."

"I have no idea why cutting, placing, sticking, and playing changes my world and my feelings so profoundly - but it DOES! It must by-pass that naughty bit of the brain that likes to analyse, reason, play-down, be pessimistic etc. Then of course there is the fact that you just made something real, right there in front of you. You breathed life into those dreams and dared to put them out there. Their form usually surprised me, and the fact that I could be surprised when it was I who had done it all myself, was... surprising! All in all, a peculiar, intriguing, fascinating and wonderful experience with an incredible 'end' result."

"Hannah has magic flowing through her veins. She sweetly and boldly challenged me to look within myself, gave me the courage own my truths, and guided me to realize that we all have a little magic coursing through our veins."

"I am a sensitive person. Hannah's gentle, nurturing spirit was perfect for me.I love all the ways of bringing magic and ceremony into day to day life.The process of letting our word find us was very interesting. Mine was Sanctuary. I now purposefully make my bed, thanking it for being a restful sanctuary. A little thing, but it fills me up. This class really spoke to my heart."

"Hannah's energy danced and leapt into my world, took me by the hand and gently reintroduced me to a part of me I'd been missing."




Beautiful Faces. Magical Places.

I am eager for the lists that make their way out on sleepy Friday mornings. Today I am a up at 4:30am so glad it isn't 3:00am again, must go to Trader Joe's for almond meal and chocolate, forgot to put laundry in for Chloe that I promised (luckily I'm up at 4:30am) and I'm going to make the pie today -you'll see- kind of mama.

These are my pay-it-forward lists.

This could be a fun way to look back and remember.

This inspires me to move, something that I just don't have naturally born within me. I want to move more.

I don't pause for a costume change either.

This jacket is soft as butter and for a HSP it is divine. I wore it all day long.

This was one of those wow posts. ~ via Tanya G.

Thank you to so many for how you give.

 The grain free recipe search commences. I haven't had stuffing in years.

 We do this. I was under the impression for years that making it yourself was hard, it isn't.

Oldie but goodie.

Making this Saturday for friends. I haven't had dinner guests in so long. Time to start again.

 This book. This life.

Suggested via FB for my kids who love to draw fantasy worlds. Waiting for Christmas. While praying for a Christmas that brings meaning, not stuff for the sake of stuff.

This is why I love the internet, community, connection. Donated.


This. This is happening. I'm going to tell you much more, for now, this.

Beautiful Faces. Magical Places.

I am eager for the lists that make their way out on sleepy Friday mornings. Today I am a make hot soup to simmer away on the stove early, make the bed, call back the potential babysitter, cross things off that funky list next to me by noon (yes, this is a challenge) and "mama please can we go to the playground before we pick up the big kids" kind of mama.

These are my pay-it-forward lists.

Jamie and Me. xo

Oh Pam, I love this. ~via Susannah C

Dream. Come. True.

I have not cross stitched since I was a little girl. I am so feeling like making a little basket and going back in.

Shame. Know this one? A beautiful sharing of the process of moving through, not pushing against.

This is how I plan my programs. All of it with sticky notes, right here. And then I spontaneously get things like this for my daughter, shhh!

Catching up on my reading. Blogs, just yes.

The storm has brought waves of emotion to us on the East Coast.


Catch up with my news from my world, Would they notice?


Monthly intentions. Or, walking with grace.

Found this on the top of my to-do list. My girl does appreciate a good party, she always has.

I give each month a name. Sometimes they are clever and other times just a word. They help me set a strong and feeling guided intention for my month. The work I'm guiding for the month will often match up to my personal monthly intention.

This month as I am walking with grace inside of a program that I'm adoring creating, I was sure that would be my monthly intention.

Never be sure. Always stay open. Grace will teach you this. As I am talking in my community often I find words that want to linger back to me. They won't be ignored.

Opening to Receiving.

This is November's intention. Strong and soft. And you?

This calm before.

Candles on the windowsills. Coffee in my mug. Turkey soup simmering away on the stove.

A view from above.

Last night we took a walk and I couldn't believe how bright the sky was. Since I was little I have loved storms, the sound of wind and rain and thunder can relax my energy which is normally extremely tight and tense. These last few days of this eery magical calm before the storm has kicked my anxiety up. Lying in bed at 4am with my mind racing like it used to after Eli was born. The boys running across the street and I can't get to them as the car is coming. Those thoughts that you want to wish away but can't control in the noise of your head.

This still happens.

The house feels so cozy, the smell of soup and the anticipation of wind and rain on its way. I opened up an email today from a woman thanking me for changing her life, helping her find herself. After courses and classes that she has tried, nothing had ever worked. Until now.

And that happens, expanding me. I am learning, slowly, to hold this truth.

My heart is full and excited for all that will be. After the storm, after the soup, after the new Lego set is built by candle light. (We'll just turn out the lights if we don't lose power!) The rhythm of nature, cycles of the moon, all of it; I believe that we can use the energy to go that one layer deeper into ourselves.

Every time I step my feet into the sand on a beach I feel layers shed. I feel at home. I feel peace.

Inside this calm I am guided towards preparation, flames flickering, blankets snuggling, looking ahead and being fully present. The calm teaching us to really be here, now, keeping time while watching the leaves float down.


(This post inspired by a conversation in Mamacoach Circle from the amazing Erin Goodman.)