​Read And Listen Online ​

Ten years ago, we went away for a month. We had a few things in mind—get away from the cold, live somewhere beautiful and quiet, visit the west coast part of our family, and celebrate our granddaughter’s sixteenth birthday.

But our deepest intent was beyond any of those.

We wanted to discover what we really like, want, and feel. Not what habit tells us we like. Not what routine has convinced us we want. Not what busyness has buried so deep we’ve forgotten how to feel it at all.

We figured that would mean breaking some old habits, making some new ones, and — just as importantly — keeping the ones that actually serve us.

We certainly got away from the cold. We loved seeing our family. We stayed somewhere breathtaking and still.

And in that stillness, something interesting happened.

The place we found was one I had never visited, despite living in California for thirty years.

It had a stunning view, wide open walks, and the kind of quiet that doesn’t feel empty; it feels full.

We said hello every morning to peacocks announcing themselves like tiny royalty, horses standing in their peaceful authority, dogs trotting over with no agenda, and hawks riding invisible currents overhead.

Long stretches of walking. Long stretches of thinking. Long stretches of simply being.

Did we discover what we want, like, and feel?

Did we break old habits and make better ones?

Yes and no. And honestly, both answers matter.

Here’s what I know: it is so much easier to break a habit when you step outside your normal environment. The old context keeps calling the old behavior home. Coming back makes it harder. But much of what we learned stayed with us.

My personal theme for the trip was to lighten up—in as many ways and on as many levels as possible.

One of the first things we did was get me a simple activity tracker. I hadn’t thought of it, but my husband had one and loved it, so I listened and tried it.

This turned out to be a quietly revolutionary decision, because I learned things I didn’t know. Or more honestly, things I had been fooling myself about.

I think of myself as very active. The tracker showed me I was not then. That answered a few questions right there.

We committed to walking every day, and having something count the steps made it easier to keep the intent to move.

I got better as the weeks went on, which meant I had to walk further as my stride lengthened and my body remembered what it was made for.

We did yoga almost every day. My husband had long stretches of time for his Taiji practice. We moved our bodies as if they were worth taking care of, because they are.

We also started a daily detox drink. It was not, as we jokingly called it, delicious, but it wasn’t terrible either, and I loved the way it made me feel lighter. That word kept coming back: lighter. As if the whole journey was really about removing what was weighing me down physically, mentally, and spiritually.

On the food front, we kept it simple. We used a complete meal replacement for two meals a day. Something we’d been doing for over a year already and genuinely loved.

It saved time, removed the noise of constant food decisions, and kept us nourished without having to cook.

We ate when we were actually hungry.

We had chips and salsa from a place that declared itself the best in the world, and we didn’t argue with them. Every few days, we went out to eat. Along the way, we found a Thai restaurant we would have happily carried back to Ohio in our suitcases.

I was vegan the whole time. California made that easy. That made me happy. I had already been a vegetarian for over thirty years. It’s part of who I am, not just what I eat.

We also gave up sugar. I thought that would be the hard part. I was astonished to find it wasn’t, except for the social friction of it.

Saying no at a table full of birthday cake or holiday desserts is hard. But it’s manageable when you know why you’re saying no.

After we returned, most of those habits held.

The sugar still calls occasionally, especially in the afternoon hours when the day gets long. But not loudly enough to win.

The hardest habit to maintain wasn’t any of the physical ones.

It was the habit of stillness.

Of doing nothing for long stretches of time. Of letting the mind open instead of filling it.

I worked while we were away — coaching, writing, teaching — but still had those wide, unhurried spaces of quiet.

Back home, the small machinery of ordinary life started up again almost immediately. The details, the decisions, the doing. And those long open spaces became harder to find.

But here’s what changed: I noticed it. I noticed when I was pulled back into too much doing, too much noise, too much motion without meaning.

Years later, I continue to ask myself: Is this what I want to be doing? Is this aligned with who I am?

For both of us, that remains a living, open conversation. As I believe it should be.

Life is about expansion, not contraction.

It is about becoming more of who we truly are, not accumulating more of what we think we need.

That requires a kind of ongoing, gentle ruthlessness, a willingness to look honestly at what we’re doing, thinking, and choosing, and to keep asking whether it serves the light we’re here to express.

Within days of returning, we both walked through the house and filled bag after bag for donation.

We had lived easily out of two small suitcases for a month.

The house, with all its stuff, felt suddenly heavy.

I started a quiet new mantra: I am not the owner of stuff.

Try it. It might just help you lighten up, too.

Letting Go,

Nine-year-old Hannah remembers her past life—and the fire that killed her and her mother. Now her past-life father, Jay, who also remembers his past life, has found her and is consumed by rage and seeking revenge against the man who destroyed his family thirty-five years ago. As Hannah tries to heal wounds spanning two lifetimes, a ruthless enemy sees the perfect opportunity to destroy them all. A gripping tale of redemption, forgiveness, and love that transcends death. Click Here To Read For Free.​

👉 This box set for The Rivers Of Times series is only $2.99 on my website, before it comes out on Amazon in a few days. Click Here To Get All Three Books for the price of one. Good for this week!
​
Across three books, you’ll unravel a decades-old mystery of missing boys, a stranger arriving in town to claim what he believes is his, buried family secrets that the river has kept hidden for generations, and the tender, complicated work of healing the rifts between mothers and daughters.

But more than anything, this is a series about community — the kind that forms when people show up for each other, and the kind of love that turns a collection of neighbors into a chosen family.

If you love small-town women’s fiction with a touch of magical realism, page-turning mystery, and characters who feel like old friends, this box set is waiting for you.

The Returning • The Awakening • The Rising — all three books, one beautiful journey.​

🗣️Each month, I offer a free 11-Minute Reset — a brief, focused time to shift perceptions, remember what’s true, and realign with grace. If you need a simple, steady touchstone, I'd love to have you join us. Join The Fun Here. ✔️
​1️⃣1️⃣Next April 11 1️⃣1️⃣ at 1️⃣1️⃣

Who doesn’t love Hummingbirds? Here’s a lovely documentary about a woman who cares for them. Watch It Here!​

These two free daily emails will help remind you every day of the truth of who you are, and of Big R Reality. The worldview is relentless. Counteract it with The Daily Nudge and The Truth4Today​

If you have comments, questions, or suggestions, I'd love to hear them. Reply to this email, and I'll reply as soon as possible!

If you don't want to receive this newsletter anymore, click here.​

​
​