Homecoming...coming home to me.

In March, I embarked on a solo adventure to Bali for a yoga and music retreat - a 15-year-old dormant dream that had been waiting for me to finally wake up to possibility. Off I went, to be with fellow music and yoga lovers who shared the dream.

What I didn’t expect was that this dream would open the door to many more lived dreams. I quickly fell in love with this faraway land. Bali felt inherently spiritual (not religious) - a place where shared culture and tradition are woven into daily life. I was drawn to the rituals: incense burning to carry prayers far and wide, water ceremonies, and a deep reverence for the earth and elements. The Balinese people are humble and devout, warm and open. Greetings always include a smile and smiles go a long way. Vibrant colors, fresh flowers and fruit, the way in which mopeds weave in and out mindfully and harmoniously with each other...it all felt magical.

My heart was wide open, present to every small and big encounter with ease and curiosity. Friendships were formed that I know are meant to last, and through conversations, yoga classes, and workshops, I uncovered insights and awarenesses I couldn’t have anticipated. Gratitude overflowed, and I longed to carry that same sense of openness home with me.

After a nearly 20-hour journey, I landed back in the U.S. to a text from my husband:

“Don’t read other messages. Everything is ok. Take an Uber home. Seven hundred kids and staff at the junior high have been evacuated and relocated due to a viable bomb threat at the school. Don’t worry, everyone is ok and I’m on my way to pick her up.”

In that moment, the warmth and openness from Bali seemed to shatter under a sudden explosion of fear, rage, and confusion. My heart felt under attack. The discrepancy between worlds and experiences was too vast. I was overwhelmed with emotion. And all I could think was: Why is there always an obstacle when I come home?

A few days later, as I reflected on this with my own coach, she gently mirrored back something I hadn’t seen: “Coming home is full of obstacles,” I had said. Home. Not just Texas. Not just the U.S. Not just my community. Home to myself.

That landed like a truth I hadn’t wanted to face. I wasn’t just resisting the place I was returning to -

I was resisting parts of me. The question became:

What am I struggling with coming home to, within myself?

And so, the deeper journey revealed itself: to turn inward and see what obstacles in me were standing in the way of my dream life. What within me needed to be acknowledged, accepted, loved - so that coming home, both inside and out, could feel like peace?

Reflection for You and Me

Where in your own life do you feel resistance to “coming home” - whether to yourself, your truth, or your heart? What would it look like to welcome yourself back with compassion instead of judgment?

Take a few moments to journal on this:

✨ What part of me am I longing to come home to?

✨ What obstacles keep me from fully embracing it?

✨ How might it feel to soften those obstacles with love?

An Invitation

If this reflection stirs something in you, I’d be honored to hold space for your journey. Coaching with me is a gentle container where you don’t have to figure it out alone. Together, we create a space for you to listen deeply to yourself, untangle the obstacles, and step more fully into the life that feels more and more like home.

If your heart is ready, I invite you to reach out - let’s begin.

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Noticing the Signs- Are you available?

I was recently speaking with a dear friend who is walking through a very difficult season in her home and family life. In the midst of sharing about the heaviness she’s been carrying, her face suddenly lit up with childlike joy. She remembered to tell me that a praying mantis had appeared on her sliding glass door, staying long enough for everyone in the house to notice and admire its graceful presence.

Symbol of Stillness, Intuitiion, Contemplation, and Transformation

“It’s a sign!” she exclaimed. “What could it mean? My friend says it’s good luck!”

Curious, we turned to my handy-dandy ChatGPT for insight. Here’s what Zoe (yes, that’s her name!)

shared about the symbolism of a mantis-

What the praying mantis often symbolizes:

• Stillness & patience. Mantises wait calmly and move only when the time is right. A reminder to slow down and let clarity emerge before acting.

• Inner wisdom & intuition. Their posture calls us back to our own inner knowing, beneath all the noise.

• Mindful focus & strategy. With their precision, they remind us to direct our energy wisely, not scatter it.

• Prayer, contemplation & surrender. Their folded “prayer hands” invite us to release control and rest in faith.

• Transformation & camouflage. Just as they adapt to their environment, we too grow by changing how we show up.

• Protection & boundaries. The mantis embodies quiet strength, teaching us that saying “not now” can be as powerful as action.

  
  

After reading this, my friend reflected:

“Given my separation and all the intensity I’m holding, maybe the mantis is reminding me to pause, listen deeply, protect my energy, and trust that this season is shaping me into something new.”

We were both amazed at the way such a simple encounter could open up space for meaning, reflection, and hope.

There are endless books on signs and symbols - from folklore to religion to cultural traditions - and sometimes the most powerful messages arrive in everyday moments. A sudden synchronicity. A strange coincidence. A small visitor at our door.

Maybe these aren’t accidents at all. Maybe they are invitations - from God, the Universe, Source - to notice, to breathe, to remember we are being guided. Can we be available to notice them?

Reflection for the week:

Where in your life are you being asked to pause, listen,

and trust the quiet wisdom within you?

And if you’re ready to go deeper - to learn how to notice the signs within your own life, reconnect with your inner voice, and walk forward with clarity and courage - I would love to support you through coaching. This is the work we do together: slowing down, listening in, and creating space for meaning to emerge.

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Chore or Ritual? Mindless or Mindful?

Shifting into Mindful Rituals

Mindless or Mindful Doing

I sometimes feel frustrated by the meaningless, rote activities that are part of my everyday life—unloading the dishes, making the bed, brushing my teeth, walking the dog, prepping lunches, and so on. The list feels endless. And while I’m doing one thing, my mind is usually busy rushing ahead to the next. Truthfully, one of my great joys in life is checking things off the list—there’s something oddly satisfying about crossing through an item with such finality. In fact, if I’m honest, I often scratch things off with almost comical vigor, as though each line drawn is a tiny victory. I laugh at myself when I notice this—how tightly I cling to productivity as proof of progress.

Shifting Into Ritual

But then I remember: I can choose a different way. I can make any activity—especially the ones that happen daily—an opportunity for ritual and presence.

Take unloading the dishes. On some days it feels like drudgery, but if I shift my attention, I notice how it can also be a mindful moment to stretch my body. Each bend, each turn, each reach is a chance to move with ease and grace, like a little dance through the kitchen (it's especially fun if I turn on some music).

Or walking the dog. It’s so easy to plug in my earbuds, distracted by music, a quick call, or the churn of my own thoughts. But when I leave the earbuds behind, the walk becomes something different: a sensory experience. I notice the air against my skin, the colors in the trees, the rhythm of my steps, the sound of my dog’s paws padding along the sidewalk. What was once routine becomes a gentle invitation to connect with each of my senses.

Even preparing lunches for my kids—a task that is so often rushed—could become an act of love when I shift my awareness. As I slice and pack, I remind myself of the gratitude I feel for the food on our table, for the farmers who grew it, for the earth and sun that nourished it. Lunch prep transforms into a quiet offering- a gratitude practice, an awareness of the abundance I experience in my life.

The Spaciousness of Mindfulness

Noticing with Presence

This is the beauty of mindfulness. By softening my grip on rushing through, by letting go of the need to “just get it done,” I find the possibility of expansion. A day once cramped by to-dos begins to feel spacious. Even within the same tasks, there is more breath, more presence, more life.

Because mindfulness doesn’t require a retreat or a meditation cushion. It can be right here, in the folding of laundry, a morning shower, in the tiniest of everyday rhythms.

These seemingly insignificant moments can become reminders that life is not only lived in the big milestones, but also in the countless small steps that fill our days. These shifts are practices, and with time and intention, they become more natural to return to.

Reflection Invitations

• Which daily task feels most “mindless” for me, and what small shift might bring mindfulness into it?

• How does my body feel when I rush versus when I move with intention?

• Can I reframe one task as a ritual of gratitude or love this week?

• What changes when I treat ordinary moments as sacred?

✨ If reading this stirred something in you—if you’re longing to bring more intention, ease, or meaning into the everyday rhythms of your life—I would love to support you. Coaching offers a space to pause, reflect, and create new patterns that feel aligned and nourishing. If you feel called, let’s connect. Your journey toward a softer, more intentional way of living doesn’t have to be walked alone. ✨

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