10/13/2026
The garden heals my soul.
A lot of people ask me, “How do you do all of this?” They worry I must need to nourish myself more than I do.
Here’s what nourishes me: I live on a mission at the top of a hill, beneath the sun, moon, and stars. I live in a garden—wild, chaotic, and not mine to control. I believe the whole world is a garden, if we learn how to see it that way.
Since I was born, the garden has been my safe place: the woods, the lakes, the sunshine and rainbows, raindrops and kittens, morning glories, the fresh scent of the piney woods, and the simple work of caring for the places we call home.
I call it temple maintenance. I tend to the temple of my body, my home, my work, my community, my church, and the world around me. I’ll be doing it for the rest of my life. It keeps me close to the rhythms of the universe and on my knees in gratitude for every breath.
Being able to hold space while someone finds their own way toward healing is one of the highest honors I can imagine. I won’t stop sharing the belief that we each carry something essential within us. This is a birthright. It’s not something you order from Amazon.
Sometimes we need to come back to ourselves—to our breath, our bodies, the Holy Spirit, and the care we can offer the temple we’ve been given.
So, for my birthday, here’s my wish for you: let go, even for a few seconds, of what no longer matters. Remember that every breath gives us a chance to share our own light—our original signal—with the world.
Step outside for the morning sun. Put your bare feet on the ground if you can. Bow your head in gratitude—for the gifts, the challenges, and even the people who taught you something along the way. Then take the next breath, and be present enough that someone else can feel a little more peace.
Peace in the body. Peace in the home. Peace in our community, peace in our work, peace in our state, peace in our nation, and peace in our world.
I love you all so much. Remember to breathe. 💛