You’re already burning. And that fire? It’s the only thing that’s ever been real in this damn world. This is your permission slip to stop waiting for the perfect moment. Choose the wild, the messy, the brutally beautiful life you were meant for. Read my birthday wish for you…

You want to be alive. You want to bloom from your bones. You want to wake up to yourself, moaning with meaning. And you can…

You’re hungry for a life that doesn’t require you to fold yourself in half just to fit. You are ravenous—for the rise, for the reclamation, for the rhythm of your own becoming. To feel alive again. And that hunger? It’s holy…

You call it preparation. Readiness. A safeguard. You believe if you run the numbers enough times, if you account for every possibility, you can stay ahead of loss, of failure, of regret. Yet worry is not a fortress; it is a cage…

Joy does not come in the absence of pain. It is not something we earn when we have finally smoothed out all the rough edges. No, joy is born in the very center of it all—when we allow discomfort to exist without resistance, when we find within ourselves…

Here’s the latest letter in my own current practice of courage. From my unfiltered and messy heart to yours…