I’ve always loved the idea of capturing the golden thread that weaves through my personal writing and infusing it into the stuff I publish.

Reflections. Straight from my journal into your inbox.

The gold from my personal handwritten reflections, harvested and typed out, raw and unfiltered, so that I can share them with you here. This feels intimate, vulnerable, less calculated and more alive.

Here we are, just as we are.

Welcome to my inner sanctum. Please take off your shoes, come in for a cup of tea, a contemplation, a shared moment of truth.

It’s Monday afternoon. I’m enjoying some solo time with Reggie in the heavenly backyard at the home where I grew up.

I had a big ah-ha moment on the drive here.

It was more of a feeling, actually.

Weightlessness.

The freedom of complete surrender and allowing myself to be lived by Life, by God. The relief of not being solely responsible or having to worry about how it’s all gonna go. Resting in the knowing that God’s got us.

It was fleeting, but I clocked it, and now I can’t forget. And I keep coming back to it every time I catch myself clenching, grasping, holding on a little too tight.

Let go. Let God. All is well. It’s all passing. And the most important thing I can do is appreciate the present moment, inhabit it fully and give it my all as though it’s the only one that matters, because that’s the highest truth and the highest form of reverence for Life.

There may not be tomorrow or later. And there’s something heartbreakingly beautiful about that when I let it all the way in. It’s an instant shot of grief mixed with nostalgia, mixed with “let’s live to the fullest and dream big because who knows how long we’ve got”. It’s a shot of life and it takes my breath away all in one gasp of air.

This is the medicine of the moment.