All Posts

As I sit this Monday morning after Easter, with sunlight creeping across my kitchen floor and the weight of the weekend still hanging in the air, I find myself reflecting on the idea of resurrection. Not in the traditional sense alone — but as a lived experience. Because honestly? Resurrection, for me, can be daily. Or weekly. Or whenever I feel the pull to realign with what matters. Today, I feel that pull.

There comes a moment—quiet at first, then impossible to ignore—when you realize that the words you’ve been speaking are no longer your own. Not entirely. They've been shaped by expectations. By titles. By systems that once promised belonging, but now feel like cages. I’ve lived that moment. And if you’re reading this, maybe you have too.

Your body has its own language—and when you learn to listen, you stop fighting symptoms and start understanding them.

5 Daily Rituals for a Balanced Life You don’t just wake up one day burned out. It creeps in slowly, disguised as fatigue, irritability,...