04/21/2026
Real talk:
I’ve been struggling with my mental health in recent weeks.
My life has always had its challenges, but lately it’s felt like one thing after another—being accidentally served an alcoholic drink in Oakland, a car accident that totaled my vehicle just six months before it was paid off, my big dog breaking my little dog's leg, my new car being hit while parked, and then the more personal medical stress we all know about in late February.
I’ve been in a cave. I’ve dug deep and pulled inward, only emerging when absolutely necessary.
Life has felt intolerable at times over the last couple of weeks, and I found myself needing to escape just to get through it.
Yesterday, I was gently scooped up by one of my favorite magic makers, and we wandered into a part of the Forest I had never seen before.
There was a moment on a suspension bridge where everything swayed beneath me and I thought—I might actually fall. I might actually die. And then something in me softened into the truth of being alive.
We waded in the river. I let the water do what it does—hold, cleanse, recalibrate.
River medicine.
I’ve always believed plants, water, and ritual are not luxuries—they are survival medicine for moments like these.
I am so grateful. For the grounding. For the reminder. For the way life keeps finding me even when I go quiet.
Thank you Lisa. For bringing me back to center.
For the tears. For the love.
For the squirrels, the butterflies, and the snow white morning.
