*Days like these, thank you*

When self-employment feels daunting and stressful and uncertain and cuckoo, will you pretty please remind of days like these? It’s been a mighty fine week.

photo 1

photo 2

photo 3

photo 4

photo 5

photo 1

photo 2

photo 3

photo 4

photo 5

photo 1

photo 2

Photos of Here

photo 1

photo 2

photo 3

photo 4


Sun Soaks & Happy 4th!

I’ve been absolutely LOVING my home these past weeks. I have to pinch myself sometimes—to remember to fully soak it all in. Very grateful.

photo-446 photo-445

HAPPY FOURTH, America! Wishing all those celebrating safe & happy festivities:) Enjoy!


Pink sky at night


Week highlight? This sunset.



In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.
– John Muir 




Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.
~Franz Kafka 


Surf, sun & sand (sprinkled with doses of other stuff)

My weekend snapshots provide glimpses of attempts to soak up every second of this glorious season. (And not to boast too much, but these past days, I’d say I’ve been doing a pretty darn good job of it:))

You will see water (and more water! Pisces heaven), city skyline views, reunions with friends, lazy park sits, exquisite sunsets and sensational scenes that suggest that ALL is right in the world. I belly-laughed with an old friend as we caught up over a picnic on my favorite Seattle mound. (We got goosebumps as we witnessed a petal-strewn marriage proposal under a fire-streaked sky.) I rode my bike, carefree, down the canal trail; I wandered the Sunday market; I heard music from guitars and a violin and the nostalgic drone of bagpipes.

*Pause: I do think it is sometimes important, however, to acknowledge that these snapshots only tell part of the story. There is some danger in this odd existence where social media and the vetted-for-public versions of our daily lives prevail. Clearly, these pictures don’t capture a few weekend lowlights, like terrible Sunday morning listlessness and a serious WHAT-THE-EFF-Universe moment Friday afternoon that had my emotions running rampant and my mind/heart feeling lightyears away from Zen. Although these moments were brief in the grand scheme, they were real, and they stung…..Like Susannah cleverly confesses, we shouldn’t be fooled into thinking that others’ lives are always “all rainbows and unicorns over here” (despite what highlight-reel-recaps or colorful slideshows tend to suggest).

But the main point, I suppose, is that there WAS (and remains to be) so much amazingness, and this is where we must focus the lens. Sometimes it is too easy to get hung up on the hurt or the scared or the sad, or whatever threatens to plague. But, as always, I practice (and practice some more) shifting the emphasis. On bringing to light what is really, really great–on the billions of small (and big) ways I continue to be blessed.

On Saturday morning, I went paddle boarding (so fun!), where four of us drank in surreal mountain and lighthouse views. We spotted a regal blue heron, bobbing, iridescent jelly fish and a playful seal splashing his way across the sound. We saw a rainbow arch its way around the midday sun (so in this case, in that moment, it actually was all rainbows).

On the journey back to the shore, I really got in the groove-pushing meters ahead of my fellow paddlers-feeling steady and strong as I slid along atop the water. For a wee while there, I lost myself in the rhythm of my strokes, the repetitive swoosh of the oar, visions of hypnotic, dancing light beams below. Afterward, kissed with sun, plastered with seaweed and sprinkled with sand, we rewarded ourselves with JUICY Paseo Cuban pork sandwiches on picnic tables next to the bustling surf shop. Bliss. Like a child just in from a day at the beach, I felt tired and sore and joyful and alive. In moments like this: LIFE. IS. GOOD.

Brick by brick

***“Change is not a bolt of lightning that arrives with a zap. It is a bridge built brick by brick, every day, with sweat and humility and slips. It is hard work, and slow work, but it can be thrilling to watch it take shape.”~Sarah Hepola***

Moving Day

*Standing at point A, looking across the water to Point B, aka my soon-to-be Fremont home.*

Moving days, by nature, are hectic and sleep-deprived, reflective and a bit of an emotional jumble.

Currently, this is me.


*Nostalgic about leaving Eastlake. Thrilled to move beyond Eastlake. Grateful for what this Eastlake nest has given me over the past many months.

*Sad about what might have been. Excited about what might be. Determined to live in a more permanent, accepting and mindful space of “where I am/whatever I’m doing right now is the best place to be, because it is where I am.” (Grass-is-greener, be gone.)

*Shaken to the core by real-life, earth-shattering diagnoses (and feeling helpless for relatives affected directly by the surreal news).

*All at once surfing fleeting moments of loneliness and even more moments where I feel so very loved, supported and buoyed (and more on the verge of belonging to a community than I have felt since relocating).

*So thankful to live in a place where people are kind. (And where I’ve experienced so much unexpected kindness, from strangers especially, in the past little while.)

*Grateful to have things on the go, a real shift in energy on the receiving end. To have downtime and manageable deadlines and a schedule I control, yet to also feel a real sense of purpose and drive.

(*Amused that Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” is still one of my most favorite guilty-pleasure happy songs. Ha. Should I be embarrassed to admit this? I’m also beyond chuffed that my new 23-year-old apartment manager just gave me a copy of a reggae CD he burned. See? The kindness, it’s everywhere once you look for it…)

Did you all have a happy 4th? I sure did, and summer even arrived a day EARLY (since all Seattleites claim summer doesn’t typically show up till July 5th). What a lovely surprise.

Here’s to moving on, new beginnings, transitions, hopefulness, reserves of strength, summer fun, kind people, news that’s good and independence!

Previous Older Entries