Wild Heart

I'm surrounded by change. Transition is necessary and inevitable in life, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like hell sometimes. Even valid reasons for change do not negate the fact that with change comes mourning. We mourn what was, what could have been, what we knew needed to end, or what we hoped to just begin. We mourn what's comfortable, and safe, and familiar. When I think of the word familiar, I think of home. I think of a place, or a person - someone or something that knows you so well that words are not necessary because your eyes speak volumes in a language that only they can truly understand.

Read More

All Those Small Moments

I love this quote from the film We Bought A Zoo where the character Benjamin Mee says: “You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.” As with anything as unpredictable as life, I’ve had moments where I’ve been brave before, and the story didn’t pan out how I thought it would. It’s easy to recoil after those moments and vow to never let your idealist heart be so recklessly bold again. But every good story has those moments. Every good story requires those moments. So maybe, if you keep putting yourself out there, keep taking one small step at a time, you’ll look back one day and realize it was all those small moments – of defeat, and of triumph – that got you where you are.

You Are Good

This song. On repeat. Every day for the past 3 weeks.
I can’t say what it is exactly about particular songs that move me.
I guess there’s an honesty and rawness in certain lyrics, with certain artists, that I relate to.
I sing songs from the stage every Sunday, but I’m just a girl who struggles and doubts as much as, if not more than, anyone else.
But I think it’s important even in those moments – especially in those moments – to sing songs like this one. To repeat to ourselves, over and over again, that “You are good.” 
That you won’t ever let us down.
To let that be our mantra, our anthem.
Because I don’t think it matters if we’ve got it all together or not.
Or if we question on some days, or weeks, or even years, whether or not we’re going to be let down, whether or not we already feel like we’ve been let down, whether or not “You are good” applies to us.
I think what matters is our willingness to be vulnerable, raw, split wide open.
To be brutally honest.
To say I’m here, and I’m going to sing and dance and lift my hands and cry out from the caverns of my soul, from the chambers of my bruised and beat up heart, 
“You are good. And you are never going to let me down.”
Sometimes we just have to forget everything around us,
Everything that holds us back,
Everything that would tell us that it’s safer to keep our guard up,
That it’s more socially acceptable to keep the mask on.
Sometimes we just have to let go,
If just for a single, solitary moment,
And scream hope.