In my longing, I have a desire for wholeness.
Cold nights with a hearty sweater. Pies baked with love in a rustic home that is unconditional in it’s love for me.
Womb full and eyes bright – the gestation of a brilliant truth.
In my longing, I am untethered, broken free. The cautious of the unimaginative releases me sweetly into my new beginnings.
Most luxurious. Most coveted. Astonishingly unapologetic.
Heaving in know that the privilege is rich and, yet, I am deserving.
Unabashedly focused, heart-wrenchingly selfish in my need to show up fully.
Fall night and a blanket of crisp white stars hard in their brilliance. Staunch. Unfolding.
For the last year, I have been hungry.
It has been as if someone switched on the light behind my heart and whispered miracles of opening and becoming and belonging.
Five years ago when I build this blog, I had no idea what I wanted, but I knew I was desperate for something.
I now know that I was hungry. Hungry for :: freedom, expansion, grace, bold action, deliciously radical self-responsibility.
I was hungry for a life that truly felt like mine.
And now, I see that what I longed for was the hunger. I deeply longed to feel like my life wasn’t just a series of events that were happening to me, but instead a carefully curated masterpiece.
I wanted to want. I wanted to yearn. I wanted to feel as though I had permission to deserve.
Longing to plug in.
Longing to own the tender cravings of my open heart.
Longing for the rites of passage that would guide me forward with blossoming vulnerability.
Longing to be a beacon so that my people, my tribe, could find me in the dark.
Today, things are moving quickly, falling into place all around me and I summon the continued strength to clearly declare my intentions and my desires.
I want to keep growing.
I believe that it is our universal birthright to transmit brilliantly and with unbridled joy.
I believe that our purpose is to return home to ourselves, cultivating lives grounded in self-love and self-trust.
My path forward is guide women toward these truths – to bring them home, to remind them of who they are, to teach them to embrace the permission to begin again, as many times as they need to.
This is the life that I was longing for, and, yet, sitting here in this life, I know that, now, I will always be hungry. Hungry for more. Hungry for that feeling of being lit up from my core, brazenly.
I love that about myself and I love that about the women in my community – brave women who are hungry, even before they know what they are hungry for.