Tag: mental-health

What Is Love?

A simple question that carries a lifetime of answers


Notes from Alex

I’m sitting here today, just letting my thoughts wander, and one question keeps circling back around in my mind: What is love?

It’s a question people have been asking for centuries. Songs try to explain it. Poets write about it. Movies chase it. Books fill entire shelves trying to define it. And after all this time, we’re still sitting here asking the same thing: What is love, really?

We all know it’s more than empathy. It’s more than just a feeling that shows up one day and disappears the next. It’s bigger than a song, deeper than a movie plot, and stronger than words on a page. Love feels like a kind of power — something every one of us is searching for in one way or another. And if we’re honest, sometimes when we actually come face to face with real love, it scares us a little. True love asks us to be open. To be vulnerable. To give parts of ourselves without knowing what we’ll get back.

The writer of Corinthians tried to describe love long ago. Scripture says love is patient and kind. It doesn’t envy or boast. It isn’t proud. It keeps no record of wrongs. It protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres. Those words have been around for generations, yet here we are, still trying to live them out and still trying to understand how something so clearly written can feel so hard to practice.

Maybe that’s because love isn’t something we solve once and move on from. Maybe love is something we learn over and over again. It shows up in quiet moments — in forgiveness when it would be easier to stay mad, in staying when walking away would hurt less, in choosing compassion when frustration feels justified. It’s not always loud or dramatic. Most of the time, it’s found in the small, everyday decisions we make.

So what is love?

Maybe it’s the choice to care when caring feels risky. The courage to open your heart again after it’s been bruised. The willingness to see people for who they are and still meet them with grace. Love isn’t just something we feel — it’s something we practice daily.

And maybe the reason we keep searching for the definition is because the search itself keeps us grounded. It reminds us what matters most: connection, kindness, forgiveness, and hope. It reminds us we were built for something deeper than just getting by.

The question may never have a simple answer. But maybe that’s okay.

Because every time we ask what is love?, we get another chance to live a little closer to it.

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A Season That Felt Heavy

A freewrite on heaviness, holidays, and the quiet search for light

There are some days when I just don’t feel inspired to write.
Or create.
Or even slow my thoughts down enough to make sense of them.

Some days, my mind feels like it’s moving in five directions at once, and trying to gather those thoughts into something meaningful feels almost impossible. Today is one of those days. So this is a freewrite—just me jotting down what comes to mind, unfiltered and honest.

This past Christmas, I noticed something that sat heavy with me. Here in the little town of Metlakatla, Alaska, there was a feeling in the air that I couldn’t quite shake. A heaviness. Almost like a dark shadow lingering just beneath the surface. At first, I wondered if it was just me—my own weariness, my own perspective. But after talking with several people, they confirmed what I was seeing and feeling.

The heaviness was real.

Holiday seasons can be strange that way. Some years, they come easily—filled with laughter, warmth, and joy. Other years, they press in hard, stirring up grief, loneliness, and old wounds. This last one was oddly tough. Harder than expected. And it saddened my heart to see that weight reflected in the eyes of my family, my friends, and my people.

I wish there were an easy way to bring back the joy of the holiday spirit once again. To remind one another that light still exists, even when it feels dim. That hope is not gone, even when it feels distant.

Maybe part of the answer is simply noticing. Acknowledging the heaviness instead of pretending it isn’t there. Sitting with one another. Listening. Praying. Holding space. And choosing—again and again—to believe that darkness does not get the final word.

Scripture reminds us of this truth:

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.”
— Isaiah 9:2

Light still dawns. Even here. Even now.
And I’m holding on to that hope.

— Alex

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📝 Notes by Alex: Writer’s Block – The Great Shut Down

The Great Shutdown: When Indifference Becomes the Hardest Feeling

It’s been a week. Maybe two. I open my laptop, stare at the blinking cursor on the blank page, and… nothing. The well is dry, folks. Not just dry, but capped with a thick slab of concrete labeled: “YEAH, OKAY, WHATEVER.”

That label. That feeling. It’s what I’m struggling with today, and it’s what brought me here to talk about a very specific kind of writer’s block—the emotional one.

The Shutdown Mechanism

Have you ever been hurt to the point that a part of you just shuts down?

It’s not a dramatic collapse. It’s a subtle, insidious numbness that creeps in after the big wave of pain has passed. You’re not crying on the floor, you’re not raging at the sky. Instead, you’re just existing, gliding through life on a thin sheet of practiced indifference.

When people ask how you are, the default answer is a pleasant, empty, “Fine.” And when something genuinely good or bad happens, the emotional response is the same, muted drone: “Yeah, okay, whatever.”

For me, that feeling is pure poison. I try to be positive, upbeat, and stubbornly hopeful. That’s my brand! That’s how I navigate the world. But some days, holding onto that hope feels like gripping a slippery rope on a sheer cliff face. It’s exhausting.

This emotional shutdown is like a short circuit in my creative wiring. How can I write about joy, pain, wonder, or connection when my internal translator is stuck on that one phrase? I can’t access the genuine emotion I need to pour onto the page. The words feel flat, hollow, and utterly inauthentic.

The Challenge of Positivity

We live in a world that glorifies resilience, strength, and endless hustle. We are told to choose joy, to manifest success, to power through. And while I believe in the importance of a positive outlook, sometimes the effort it takes to maintain it when you’re truly hurting feels like a challenge too big to meet.

It makes me wonder: Is the “Yeah, okay, whatever” feeling a defense mechanism? Is it my exhausted spirit throwing up a white flag, saying, “I can’t afford to feel deeply right now, because feeling deeply might break me again?”

Maybe. But a writer who can’t feel is a mechanic without tools. I need my emotions—the good, the bad, the complicated—to be open and running, even if it makes me vulnerable.

An Open Question

I’m sitting here, pushing through the concrete cap, trying to find the genuine spark of feeling underneath. I’m doing the little things: I put on a good playlist, made a proper coffee, and decided to write about the fact that I can’t write.

It helps a little. Honesty is always a good starting point.

So, here is my question for you, my amazing readers:

Does anyone else struggle with this thought? With the battle between wanting to be upbeat and the overwhelming need to just shut down and protect yourself? How do you push past the emotional “whatever” and reconnect with your genuine, messy, feeling self?

I’m looking for inspiration today. Maybe, by sharing your strategies, you can help me—and others who might be stuck in this same emotional no-man’s-land—find the way back to hope, and back to the page.

Drop a comment below. Let’s talk.

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Homecoming Freewrite — Notes from Alex

Noticing the shadows — a year home in Metlakatla.

I’ve been home in Metlakatla for just over a year now, and the place I thought I knew is showing me new faces. There’s a kind of quiet I remember from growing up here, but underneath it I’m seeing something else — a current of worry and a tangle of things I didn’t expect: prescription pills trading hands like gum, illegal substances moving through corners of town, people who used to be on opposite sides now strangely close. It’s confusing. It’s sad. It’s real.

What puzzles me most is the connections. Folks I remember as neighbors or coworkers now move in ways that suggest there’s a map of relationships I don’t have. Enemies become pals, dealers and users exist beside pastors and parents, and the lines between “that kind of person” and “someone from church” blur. Maybe that’s how communities survive — we adapt, we hide our shame, we make peace with what we can’t face. Or maybe it’s how a problem grows: out of silence and the things done in the shadows.

I’ve been praying about it. Not the quick, “fix-this” kind of prayer, but the heavy, persistent kind that asks for truth and healing. I believe shadows don’t have the last word — light does. If there are people bringing drugs into our streets and wrecking lives, this shouldn’t be something we normalize or tuck away like a family secret. We owe each other honesty, care, and accountability. We owe our kids a town that doesn’t make brokenness into a quiet economy.

That doesn’t mean I want to point fingers from a place of judgment. I want to see people helped, not shamed. I want the folks stuck in cycles of addiction to find paths out, and for the people enabling the flow — whether knowingly or not — to be confronted with help and consequences. And yes, I want the hidden things brought to light, because only in the light can healing begin.

It’s a strange mix: pride in this place that raised me, and grief for the things that are wrong. It’s also a call — to pay attention, to speak up when I can, to pray louder when I can’t. Maybe the first step is simply noticing, and then doing the next small thing: check on a neighbor, show up to a local meeting, call someone who can help. Small lights can join to make a blaze.

“For there is nothing hidden that will not become evident, nor anything secret that will not be known and come to light.” — Luke 8:17

A short prayer: Lord, bring what is hidden into the light. Bring healing where there is harm. Give us courage to act and wisdom to love well. Amen.

“If we want a healthier community tomorrow, it begins with the choices we make inside our own homes today — for our kids, for our families, for the ones watching us most closely.”

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🕰️ The Time to Journal Is Now: Begin to Document Your Life

Preserving the Past, Embracing the Future—One Journal Entry at a Time

There’s a quiet power in putting pen to paper—or fingertips to keys—and capturing the moments that shape us. Not just the milestones, but the in-betweens: the early morning thoughts, the fleeting emotions, the conversations that linger. These are the threads of our lives, and journaling is how we weave them into something lasting.

✍️ Why Now?

We live in a world that moves fast. Days blur into weeks, and before we know it, seasons have passed. But your story deserves more than a passing glance. It deserves to be remembered, reflected on, and shared. Whether you’re navigating a career shift, rediscovering your roots, or simply trying to make sense of the day-to-day—now is the time to start documenting.

Journaling isn’t just for writers. It’s for thinkers, dreamers, doers. It’s for anyone who wants to live with intention and remember the journey.

📚 What You Capture Matters

  • Your thoughts: Raw, unfiltered, and honest. They’re the blueprint of your inner world.
  • Your experiences: From the mundane to the extraordinary, they shape your perspective.
  • Your growth: Journals become a mirror, showing you how far you’ve come.
  • Your legacy: One day, these pages may speak for you—telling your story to those who come after.

🌿 A Personal Note

As someone who’s spent years in the skies and now finds grounding in storytelling, I’ve come to see journaling as a form of flight. It lifts the weight of unspoken thoughts and gives them space to breathe. It’s a way to honor the past, make sense of the present, and shape the future.

Lately, I’ve been researching the Tsimshian Nation and learning the stories carried along the Skeena River. The history is beautiful—layered with meaning, resilience, and spirit. Listening to video recordings of these stories being told in our language is deeply inspiring. It reminds me that journaling isn’t just personal—it’s cultural. It’s a way to preserve voices, honor ancestors, and keep traditions alive.

And speaking of new chapters—I’m about to begin a new role in aviation, and I’m truly grateful for the opportunity. The onboarding process is underway, and I’m looking forward to the adventure ahead. It’s a fresh horizon, filled with possibility and purpose. A chance to grow, connect, and continue writing my story with intention.

So if you’ve been waiting for the right moment to start—this is it. The time to journal is now. Begin to document your life, one word at a time.

Your story matters. Let it unfold.

— Alex

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“Finding Light in the Dark Night”

Notes by Alex – By Alexander Atkinson

Through the Dark Night of the Soul

Today, I found myself slowing down—taking a real, honest look inward. It’s been a season of self-evaluation, reflection, and growth. But let me tell you, growth isn’t always beautiful. Sometimes, it feels like a storm, like wandering through a tunnel with no light in sight. I’ve come to call that time in my life “the dark night of the soul.”

It was rough—probably one of the hardest things I’ve walked through. But the biggest takeaway I have from it is this: YOU CAN GET THROUGH IT.

When you’re in the thick of mental and emotional struggle, it’s easy to believe it will last forever. But growth often begins in the moments when we choose to take one small step forward, even when it’s hard. For me, that has meant actively working on my mental well-being, choosing not to sit in the darkness but to walk toward the light.

Growing through mental health isn’t just about surviving—it’s about actively nurturing ourselves, seeking connection, and using the resources available to us. Here’s what I’ve been learning:

1. Self-Care and Well-being

  • Mindfulness and Meditation:
    Even a few minutes a day of slowing down and just being present can make a difference. Mindfulness has helped me quiet the chaos inside and tune in to what’s real and true.
  • Physical Activity:
    A simple walk, moving my body, getting outside—it’s surprising how much it shifts my perspective and mood.
  • Sleep Hygiene:
    I’ve learned to value rest. Without it, the mind struggles to heal and reset.
  • Healthy Diet:
    Eating well isn’t just for the body—it impacts the mind. Balanced meals, less processed junk, and being intentional with what I put into my body have helped me feel more stable and energized.
  • Limit Substance Use:
    Letting go of things that numb me has allowed me to feel again—and feeling, though hard at times, is part of true healing.
  • Practice Gratitude:
    Gratitude has been my anchor. Some days it’s as simple as saying, “I’m thankful I woke up today,” and other days it’s a long list of blessings.

2. Building Connections and Support

  • Social Connections:
    We are not meant to walk this life alone. Spending time with friends, family, or just being around people who bring light helps chip away at the loneliness.
  • Support Groups:
    Finding people who understand—who get the struggle—has been powerful. There’s strength in knowing you’re not the only one fighting this battle.
  • Volunteering:
    Helping others, even in small ways, shifts my focus outward. It gives me purpose, and purpose is a powerful antidote to darkness.

The truth is, mental health isn’t just something we “fix” once. It’s something we cultivate—through small, daily practices, through seeking help when we need it, and through being gentle with ourselves in the process.

If you’re in that dark night of the soul, I want you to know that you are not alone. The road through it may not be easy, but there is a way through. And on the other side? Growth, resilience, and a deeper understanding of who you are.

“Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise. Healing begins the moment you believe you are worth the light.”

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Unity in the Village: Why Love Still Matters in Small Town Life

“Choosing Unity Over Division in the Place We All Call Home”
By Alex Atkinson Jr.

I’ve lived in a small town most of my life. Metlakatla, Alaska, is home—and like many small towns across the country, we carry both the beauty and the burden of close-knit living. We know one another. We share history, hardship, and hope. But like any community, we also face our fair share of challenges.

Not all small towns are the same, of course—but many of us experience familiar themes. Tensions rise, misunderstandings brew, and sometimes, unfortunately, divisions set in. And to be honest, that’s the part of small-town life I find hardest to watch.

“We don’t have to believe the same to love the same.”

Division can come from anywhere—a disagreement, a difference in how we do things, or a clash of beliefs. Maybe we see the world through different lenses. Maybe our upbringings or faith journeys aren’t identical. But in the end, none of that should keep us from being united.

I’m not here to say we all have to agree on everything. That’s not unity—that’s uniformity. What I long to see is something deeper: honor and respect. Even when we do things differently. Even when we believe differently. A place where you can be you, and I can be me—and we still choose to love each other anyway.

No jealousy. No hidden agendas. Just a genuine attitude of care and kinship.

That’s what family is. That’s what community should be. Not perfect. Not always peaceful. But deeply rooted in love—the kind that ties us together in the storms, not just the celebrations.

In a time when the world feels more divided than ever, maybe our little town can stand out—not for how we argue, but for how we stay connected through it all. Love still matters here. And maybe if we choose it, again and again, we’ll help write a better story for the next generation watching us.

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What It Means to Be Connected


Why Belonging, Support, and Shared Purpose Matter More Than Ever

In a world that often pulls us in different directions, the power of connection has never been more important. Whether you’re in a tight-knit village like Metlakatla, a family business, a church group, or a professional team, the strength of any group lies in its ability to connect on a human level. But what does it really mean to be connected?

Belonging: The Heart of Connection

At the core of every thriving community is a sense of belonging. It’s more than just being present—it’s being seen, heard, and valued. When people feel accepted and understood, they naturally show up more fully. It’s the invisible thread that makes someone say, “These are my people.”

Shared Identity: Our Common Ground

Communities with strong connections often share more than just physical space. They share stories, values, and a collective history. Whether it’s a cultural tradition, a shared vision for the future, or simply growing up in the same place, shared identity is what gives a group its soul.

Mutual Support: Leaning on Each Other

True connection means knowing you can count on others—and they can count on you. It’s the neighbor who shows up when your generator goes out. The friend who listens without judgment. The coworker who steps in when you’re overwhelmed. Mutual support transforms groups into families.

Meaningful Relationships: Depth Over Surface

Surface-level connection isn’t enough. We thrive when we build meaningful relationships—when we know people’s stories, their struggles, their dreams. Authentic connection requires vulnerability, trust, and a commitment to showing up for one another in real ways.

Shared Experiences: The Glue of Community

From potlucks to fishing trips, community cleanups to youth basketball leagues—shared experiences create memories that bind us together. These moments deepen our bonds and remind us that we’re in this life together.

Active Participation: You Get Out What You Put In

Connection is a two-way street. It doesn’t happen by accident—it happens when people actively engage. Show up. Contribute. Help set up the chairs, lead the project, share your voice. Your presence matters more than you realize.

When Connection is Missing: What Can Be Done?

Disconnected communities don’t just feel lonely—they become ineffective. But we can bridge the gap:

  • Start with Communication: Honest, respectful conversations lay the groundwork for trust.
  • Create Opportunities to Gather: Don’t underestimate the power of a meal, a story circle, or a volunteer project to bring people together.
  • Encourage Collaboration: Shared work builds shared purpose.
  • Practice Empathy: Listen deeply. Be willing to see the world through someone else’s eyes.
  • Celebrate Diversity: Unity doesn’t mean uniformity. Our differences are strengths, not weaknesses.
  • Support Inclusive Leadership: Leaders who prioritize people over power are the ones who build lasting communities.
  • Address the Hard Stuff: Conflict, fear, or mistrust can block connection. Face it head-on, with grace and honesty.
  • Keep Showing Up: Relationships take time. Don’t give up when things get tough. Be patient. Be consistent.

Final Thoughts: Building Connection is the Work of a Lifetime

To be connected is to be human. It’s how we thrive. It’s how we heal. It’s how we build communities that last.

If you’re part of a group that feels disconnected right now—don’t wait. Start with one conversation, one shared meal, one small act of care. That’s how we begin again.

Let’s talk:
How do you build connection in your own community? What’s worked—and what hasn’t? Drop your thoughts in the comments or share this with someone who could use a reminder that connection is possible, even now.

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A Year of Hope in Metlakatla

A Year of Hope in Metlakatla United in Resilience: Our Community’s Journey Through Crisis and Recovery

Metlakatla, a small and tight-knit community in Alaska, has always been a place where people rely on each other. Despite the challenges that life brings, there’s a shared belief here—hope. This hope seems to shine brightest during times of crisis. The world has witnessed it many times, such as when wildfires tore through California, driven by the fierce Santa Ana winds. Communities pulled together, strangers became friends, and amidst the ashes, hope blossomed.

Similarly, when devastating rains and floods struck North Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia, and Florida, hope was there. People helped each other rebuild, showing that no matter the scale of the disaster, the human spirit can rise above it. This same spirit thrives in Metlakatla, where the bonds of community run deep.

One winter, a beloved local fisherman faced a crisis. His Fishing Vessel, essential for his livelihood, was severely damaged in a storm. The news spread quickly through the town. Without hesitation, the community mobilized. Friends, neighbors, and even those who only knew him in passing came together to help. They donated time, money, and materials, working tirelessly to repair the boat. In this collective effort, they found more than just the means to fix the vessel—they found strength in unity and a reaffirmation of their shared values.

This sense of community is evident in the rebuilding of the William Duncan Memorial Church (WDMC). The big church, a cornerstone of Metlakatla, faced significant damage, but the will to restore it was unwavering. Every brick laid and every beam raised was a testament to the community’s resilience. As the structure began to take shape again, so did the hope in everyone’s hearts.

Yes, 2025 is set to be a year of coming together—a time to focus on what is good. The people of Metlakatla have shown that no tragedy is too great to overcome when faced together. This year, they’ll continue to find the good in each other and in their shared experiences, making it a year to remember.

As the new year dawns, Metlakatla stands as a beacon of hope and unity. The stories of rebuilding, helping hands, and unyielding support serve as reminders that when a community pulls together, anything is possible. Here’s to 2025—a year of hope, resilience, and the enduring power of community.

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Reflecting on the Movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life”

Like millions of others, I’ve watched the classic film, It’s a Wonderful Life numerous times and I see why many would say it’s the best film ever.

It offers a sense of redemption and hope and love and the magic of Christmas. If we allow ourselves to remain at the surface level, we can walk away feeling uplifted.

Never one to take things only at face value, I’ve been digging deeper and asking a lot of questions, and I’ve questioned some of the “lessons” of the film.

What I’ve concluded is that there’s a very different message or lesson embedded in the film, at least for me. It’s clear in my mind, because we’ve just finished watching it.

Here’s what I’ve drawn from it:

It’s a meaningful life. Clearly, George Bailey’s life has meaning. He’s been a powerful force in the lives of everyone around him. His decisions and actions blessed countless others, and no doubt had a ripple effect beyond even what was revealed to him by Angel Second Class, Clarence.

It’s a significant life. No doubt George’s actions and decisions made a significant difference in the lives of others. He saved his brother, Harry, from drowning; Harry went on to save the lives of countless others in the war.

He followed in his father’s footsteps, keeping the Building and Loan alive after his father’s death. In so doing, he gave his uncle, Billy, purpose and work for a lifetime, and kept him on track in spite of his faulty memory.

He kept his love, Mary, from being a spinster librarian (actually – she would have chosen that path; she wasn’t naturally doomed to it).

He kept Mr. Gower, the pharmacist, from poisoning a little boy when he filled the prescription capsules with poison, rather than the appropriate medicine because he was lost in pain (and drink) from hearing of the death of his son.

He kept Bedford Falls from falling into the greedy, mean-spirited grasp of Mr. Potter, who would turn it into a wasteland of the dirtier, grittier, less-than-wholesome side of life and business.

He created a path for so many Bedford Falls residents to realize the dream of homeownership by offering reasonable financing and building options, otherwise unavailable to them. By extension, he gave them responsibility, pride, community, hope…

His union with Mary restored the life to a once-regal, broken down old home, and filled it with the laughter of four beautiful children.

And clearly, as the end of the movie so movingly demonstrates, all those whose lives he touched were willing and ready to come to his aid in his moment of need.

What gets to me though, is that George lived the life everyone else thought he should live. He played the roles everyone else assigned to him. In every instance, he took on the responsibility of others and subverted his own desires for adventure and architecture and building amazing structures.

He did the “right” things.

I have to ask: Was it really the “right” thing? Was it really the life he was intended to lead? Is the underlying lesson here that we should suck it up and go along and do what everyone else expects us to do? Does that lead to a full and satisfying life?

His actions allowed everyone else to life the lives of their dreams, while he stayed behind and held down the proverbial fort.

It reminds me of a series of television ads I saw a few years ago created by some financial services company. It showed a couple in their 60’s (you see this through the graying hair and age in their faces) who can “finally live the life you dreamed of” because they successfully reached “retirement age.” They could quit doing the life-sucking work they’d been sentenced to, and because they (presumably) planned and invested correctly, they could now go on adventures, explore the world, and take the time and space to be more creative in their lives.

But there’s no guarantee any of us will reach that age and that state of financial security. And I question why it needs to be that way? Why do we insist having “the safe job” and making the “right salary” is the path to happiness? If it fills your bank account while draining your soul, what’s the true value?

Was it, in fact, a good exchange?

You see, every moment you choose to do any thing, you are exchanging your precious and perishable life energy for whatever that thing is. You will not get any of those moments back. And I’m not convinced the meaning of life is to do all the things the way those who have gone before have done them or think we should do them.

I think we were created to be creative. I believe we were given unique skills, talents, ideas and desires to bring our creativity to life. I don’t believe the purpose of life is to endure and survive until we die!

So, yes… George Bailey undoubtedly lived a full, meaningful, powerful, and significant life. I can’t help but wonder what more he might have accomplished had he chosen differently and wrote his own ending. What greater impact he may have had had he spread his wings, traveled the world, and shared his gifts within a larger sphere. And who else might have stepped forward in Bedford Falls to be forces for good, so to speak, in his absence.

It will likely remain an unanswered question; just a potential storyline in the corners of my mind.

So, I leave you with these questions about you and your life:

  • What voice is speaking to you within the depths of your soul?
  • What whispers are you hearing (ignoring?) that call you to something more interesting, something more creative?
  • What do you long to explore, create, bring to life, and share with the world (even if it’s only in your little corner)?
  • Which path will you choose to follow?

And I wonder… do we really want the people who have made a meaningful difference in our lives to have to wait until the end of theirs – or til crisis rears its ugly head – to let them know what they mean to us? Is there someone who would benefit from hearing, in simple language, just what they mean to you or how what seemed like a small act of kindness changed the course of your day or your life?

One of my mentors said, “How do you know if someone needs to be encouraged?… If they are breathing!” It’s true… we could all use more kind words, more acknowledgement of the value we bring. I challenge you to start a new practice and let the people around you know what they mean to you more often and how much you appreciate their efforts on your behalf.

We are on the brink of a new year… and the truth is, in any given moment, we can make a new choice about who we will be, what we will choose to do, and what we might have to offer.

I hope you choose thoughtfully. I hope you choose honestly. I hope you choose with courage and bravery.

You see… whatever it is that you were created to bring to the world is truly singular and unique to you. No one else in all of time has the power to do that one thing but you. And if you choose to remain on autopilot, if you choose to follow the path defined for you by someone else, if you choose to not show up and share it… It will NOT be. We will not have it.

And that would be a disservice. We will all be lesser for it.

Blessings to you all this holiday season. Whatever your spiritual or religious beliefs and practices may be, I send you light and love, peace and joy, health and wealth, and hopes for deeper connection, more meaning and richness… for prosperity and healing in the New Year!

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