Come Sit With Me

I'm so glad you're here :)

Dearest reader,

I am so happy to share this safe space with you. If you follow me on social media, you’ll know that I’m entering uncharted waters. My husband and I have decided to split up after 15 years of marriage. It is both a beautiful thing and a terrifying thing. And I feel that as the next year of hard rolls on, it will be vital to have a supportive and nurturing circle of creative truthtellers and wisdom keepers like yourself to ensure survival and thriving.

And that is my hope for this Substack community.

If you missed the divorce announcement last week, I am attaching it here:

After 15 years of marriage, Dan and I have decided to go our separate ways. People will have their opinions. Those are none of my business. My business is my family. And we are shapeshifting.  And it is beautiful and terrifying and entirely natural and essential to the evolution of our souls. 

Ours is not the stereotypical scenario, the one you see in movies or hear about in pearly murmurs over country club brunch on Sundays. Ours is not replete with animosity and ill will and lying and cheating and resentment and broken dishes. Ours is just ours. It is sweet and reverent, founded on mutual respect and seeded in love. 

We have never been much for convention, Dan and me. We have made decisions for ourselves and our children in favor of intuition and heart, rather than what the neighbors might say, rather than what society might think of us. We are and will continue to be, a surefooted, unified team of parents, caregivers, and medicine people. Our tribe remains our tribe. We’ll just be adding a couple more teepees here in the future. 

It has been such an interesting experience from the inside—people’s reactions to us breaking free of an institution that no longer serves us. Have you ever stood near the trunk of a tree and yelled at it for forking halfway up? No. You haven’t. Why? Because it is perfectly natural for a trunk to diverge, to spread its branches out and upward, to reach toward the light. 

Some trees know instinctively that, in order to house the birds and feed the squirrels and serve their highest universal purpose, they must part ways and throw their arms open to the vastness of the sky. Even though it is harder. Even though it will require more sap, more resources, more energy. Even though the host of birches up the hill will have something to say about it, it doesn’t matter to the tree. The tree knows when it is time. The tree does not see itself as a failure. But as an extension and an expression of its truest, wildest nature. The tree does not ask for permission. But is held by the cambium heart of its deepest knowing. Supporting all of life. Forever connected by roots and beginnings. 

It is easier for us to tell everyone all at once than tell the same story one thousand and twenty-four times, especially as energy reserves start to wane. The next year will be tough. And we will need all the support from all the trees willing to let us grow like we need to. 

From now on, I will be writing exclusively on Substack. My hope is that by pulling back from the overwhelming vastness of social media, I will be able to concentrate on fostering meaningful, nutritive relationships on this little corner of the couch. Now get cozy. Here’s a blanket. Let me make you some rose tea :)