I had never traveled alone before until last weekend. Espeically somewhere as remote as the desert. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever truly been alone before like that, ever.

Sure I had moments at home by myself. When JP would take the kids to dinner or the park. Hours to myself when the house is quiet.

But I’d never actually truly been anywhere, by myself, for multiple days like that. Where it’s truly just me. No kids, no husband, no friend, no one.

I went to Joshua Tree to get some momentum going on a book I’m writing, but I had no idea it would be such a life-changing experience for me personally as well.

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Double-checking the billing zip code twice before hitting submit, I could feel my hands a little shaky as I double-tapped “pay now”.  Feeling myself on the verge of either crying or throwing up. Or both. I paced around our kitchen island.  Cupping my warm tea trying to calm my body.

I had just made another major investment in myself, this work, and what feels like my hardest venture yet.  And I was scared shitless.  I refreshed my email a few times praying that maybe, there was a glitch and I could slowly and quietly back out….just kidding, I’ll actually go ahead and take that money back….  

It wasn’t about the money though.  That I could actually get rid of (I mean, not happily, but you get what I’m saying…the money wasn’t the issue). It’s what the money represented.  Choosing to invest in me instead of a lot of other things; like bills, a vacation we had been dreaming of, a HOUSE (oh yeah, we still need one of those) and just life.  

But I did it anyway.  I hit “pay” and that was it.  

The money was gone.  Which oddly seemed like the easy part.  Now comes the hard part.  Actually doing the work.   

I have so many hesitations about this project.  So many reasons not to do it.

Especially now, as we’re entering the busiest time of the year with the holidays.  Between the kids being home on multiple breaks, not having help, family visiting, us traveling.  The next few months are a zoo.  

Feels like the perfect time to take on my biggest challenge, said no one ever.

Time is a huge trigger for me and this is not the first this theme has come up from me.   I think it stems from when the babies were all little and JP was on the road traveling. I felt so out of control with my schedule/time.  Nothing was mine.  So when I feel things creeping into my schedule, my space being threatened, my initial reaction is to freak the fuck out, yell at everyone in the house, shouting something along the lines of how no one respects me or values that I have things that are important to me too (which usually ends really well for everyone.  (I do not recommend).

This time, I did NOT do that (thank you meditation).  Instead, I looked over at my big old paper calender (because yes, I still have a paper calendar) with all the highlighted days marked for family/no school/travel (and I’m not gonna lie, the next two months are very highlighted) and took a deep breath.  With one hand on my heart, and one on my belly.  I repeated to myself.   

There is enough time.  You do not need to hold it all.  You are supported.  You are safe.  You can relax. Time flows freely to you.  

And in that moment, I believed it.  I felt it.  I just had to see it differently.

Which now only left me with my biggest fear…..what if I have nothing to say and I can’t do this?

I told my partner on our call today; I don’t really want to do this.  But I feel like I have to. And that’s exactly how I feel.  It’s not really a choice for me in this moment.  I know if I don’t, the regret will eat me alive.

But even still, the next six months or so feel really scary for me.  Wildly out of my comfort zone.  And I’ll be honest.  I’m afraid my words are going to fall flat, not reach anyone.  Or worse yet.  I won’t finish.  

I have an old story I’ve carried with me for far too long that I’m a quitter.  Consciously I know it it’s not true.  But it lives deep within me.  Stemming from the millions of times I’ve had to explain to people, who were never going to understand, why I’m changing careers (again), or moving (again), or changing directions, yet again.  I seem to be on a path that’s nonlinear.  Bouncing from advertising exec, to chef, yoga teacher, food blogger, to I’m not sure what now…..

There’s a small part of me that’s worried that I’ll move on from this too. To which I’m telling my inner child…that’s ok, too.  If this is nothing else than a gift for you, then what an incredible experience it will be. 

So in case it wasn’t abundantly clear yet, yes, I’m writing a book. Or at least that’s the plan.  I’m investing a lot of time, and energy and resources to finally make this come to life. Even hired someone to help me. 

Which scares the shit out of me even writing those words, or sharing with you publicly.  To even put those words out there.  I’ve received a lot of advice to not share this until I’m further along.  For various reasons.  But I say fuck advice.  If this book is a hit, amazing.  Wonderful.  And I fail, publicly, with all of you watching along the way.  Then great too.  Maybe it makes you feel a little freer to share your dreams publicly too.  I’m so tired of all of us carrying our real thoughts/fears/dreams so closely to our chests.  

I’m not afraid of people watching along the way.  Having opinions.  Critiquing or judging or supporting along the way.  Neither way matters to me anymore. 

This is for me.  Any reaction the outside world has, is none of my business.

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I’ve had the idea for this book for several years. Scribbled in countless journals and at the top of my list of “goals” too many times to count.  A little over two years ago I went on a trip to Palm Springs for a conference where I was searching for advice on self-publishing and writing a book.  The day after I got home, our city was shut down for COVID and everything changed. I was crushed.  Deflated.  Thinking it was a sign that maybe this dream wasn’t meant to be.

And at the time, I was right.  It wasn’t. 

At least not then.  

For the past two and a half years, this idea has shifted and changed so much . Nothing about it remains the same, except maybe the title (maybe).  What I would have written then feels so different from the pages I’m working on now.  

This weekend I’m leaving for a few days to be alone and write in Joshua Tree.  I’ve never done anything like this before.  Going away.  To be completely alone.  Just me, a house, and a lot of wide open space.  Seeing no one for miles.  In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever truly been alone like this, ever. 

It feels indulgent. Going away to write.  Really indulgent.  It wasn’t an easy choice.  Choosing to be away from my family for multiple days.  Leaning heavily on JP.  Spending money (again) on something I’m not sure will pay off.   

So no pressure.  Please lord, let me do more than stare at a blank page.   

What’s the saying?  It’s the journey, not the destination.  Trying to just embrace the journey (but also kind of hoping they got that one wrong and the destination ends up being fucking spectacular).

I’m not sure why I’m sharing this with all of you, when I should be writing.  Maybe this word vomit is what I needed though. To just put it out there.  Get over the fear.  Move through it.  Say it publicly.  I’m not sure how this is gonna go.  How much/little of the process I’ll feel comfortable sharing.  But I know I have to put it out there. 

I’m not good at keeping things close to my chest.  

I need a clean slate right now.  Let it all out.  No secrets.  

And I think in many ways, that’s what we’re all looking for. A way to say, I’m gonna try this thing. I’m not sure how it’s gonna go. I may fail, or it could be amazing. But either way, I don’t want to do it alone.

It feels good to be writing again. It means I’m not needed somewhere, by someone, and I can take a moment and breathe. To decompress.  

It’s been a whirlwind of a few weeks. I’m still not really sure any of it has hit me.  That we’re not going “home” anytime soon.  It feels crazy that just a few short months ago I first mentioned the idea to JP of selling our home in Chicago, and here we now, living across the country.

It all happened really fast.  And feels a little bit like a blur.  

So it’s hard now, as we’re beginning to settle in, to know what to share, or where to start.  To be totally transparent, I feel a little raw. Maybe even exposed. Untethered for sure.

I’m someone who can (almost) always find grounding. Peace. Settled within, regardless of what’s going on around me. And this move is testing that. To feel this untethered is new for me.

And yet, in some strange way, familiar.

I’ve been here before. Felt this way before. 

When I freshly became a mother.  When we moved to New York and I was unexpectedly pregnant with our fourth.   When we bought our hundred-year-old home back in Chicago and we first realized what a project it was. All of those moments had similar feelings. Unfamiliar.  Unsettling.  Unknown.  

And while our move west feels oddly familiar to those moments, I have something new now.

A deeper faith and trust in my intuition.  In my knowing.  Trusting that I know how to take care of myself.  Knowing that I have the tools and practices within to find my footing again.  And faith that I (and we) will not only be ok but that we are going to THRIVE.  I trust that this was the right next move for us, regardless of how it feels in this very moment.  

In the meantime, I’m just practicing being comfortable in the uncomfortable.  And while I’m down here, fumbling my way through, wanted to share what’s on my mind lately….

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Not evaluating my feelings

Rather instead, just allowing them to be.  Without judgment.  Reaction.  Or feeling a need to “rush and fix” anything.  

All of us (me included) have so a million different thoughts and feelings that run through us each and every day, and it can be so easy to want to REACT to each and every one.  Analyze it.  Fix it.  Make it go away.  And it can honestly just make a mess of things.

Instead, in this season, I’m trying to let whatever feeling or thought I have come up, notice it, and then let it go without needing to react.

It’s been hard for me (to not overanalyze every feeling or thing that happens), but I know is critical right now.  Until I feel more grounded and have more time to let the dust settle (and I mean real-time, 6 months, a year) then, maybe I can start making sense of my feelings.

But for now, I’m just letting them be and being ok with however I’m feeling at any given moment.  Knowing that it’s all ok.  

Becoming more aware of my choice to live sober

For those of you who may not know, I decided to live a life without alcohol back in January of 2021 (you can read more about my decision to live a life without alcohol here).  It was a conscious choice that was a few years in the making.  

While the first few months were definitely challenging, for the most part, I’ve settled into my sobriety and haven’t missed drinking for a minute.  Haven’t even really given it any thought.

Until now.

I don’t know that I’ve necessarily felt tempted to drink again, but I have felt acutely aware that MANY of these moments would have felt different with alcohol (and historically would have involved a glass or two of rose).  And for a moment, I’ve found myself wanting that “escape” that alcohol used to give me.

Experiencing all of this sober has been challenging.  And yet, I’m so damn grateful I’ve been sober.  I KNOW this would have been a million times harder with alcohol.   

But for the first time since I stopped drinking, I found myself wanting that escape.  And that’s new.  I’m not sure what that means.  I think it’s probably really normal.  Big life changes can want to bring old habits/feelings back to the surface.  

For any of you who are sober, or sober curious, I’ll share what’s been helping me. 

When I feel an urge coming on (could be for anything, any vice you want to reach for – wine, food, your phone), rather than try and fight it.  Push it away.  I welcome that feeling in.  Like a wave.  And just sit in it for 60 seconds.  I close my eyes and breath.  The more I release into the feelings, the quicker it leaves.  Just like a wave.  I can see/feel it coming.  Ground in my breath, and let it wash over. 

Every time, within that 60 seconds, it washes away.  But it’s the opposite of what we naturally think.  We naturally want to push things away.  But like everything, the more we resist, the stronger it comes on.  Sobriety is no different than anything in life.  You have to surrender to what is.  

Trusting that “hard” doesn’t equate “bad”

For a long time, I feared the idea of things being difficult, hard, or uncomfortable.  Maybe I still do.  As a young girl, I was taught to not ruffle any feathers.  Be a “good girl”.  And that really stuck with me.  

I’ve had a lot of anxiety as an adult around being “good”.  Not upsetting anyone.  Making things perfect.

So when things feel “hard” or don’t go smoothly, I can feel a wave of anxiety rise in me. 

Moving, and change of any kind, by nature is going to be messy.  Is going to be hard.  And I’m doing my best to separate that just becuase it’s hard, it doesn’t mean I’ve done anything wrong.  I didn’t make a mistake.  I’m ok

As a mom, there’s been an added layer too; seeing my kids struggle.  To have tears.  To miss friends.  To not like their new rooms, or wish they had their furniture.  And it’s been hard separating myself from that as well.  Not wanting to “fix” things for them.

Hard and messy or unsettling times are not bad for us.  In fact, they’re really healthy.  It’s where all of our growth comes from.  So while this season feels a little harder than maybe I had first anticipated, I also know that in many ways, this is really good for me.  

Holding tight to my daily rituals, while being open to new ones

I’m a huge believer in daily rituals.  If you’ve been following along with me for a while you know how much I love my morning routine, my meditation practice, my morning tea.  These small, but intentional, rituals are what ground me and in many ways are my foundation.

Moving has shaken all of that up.  And I’ve been struggling to find a rhythm that works here.

I’m realizing that I can’t hold tight to what I used to do, rather I have to create something new out here.  I’m still working my way through how that’s going to look.  But I know in my core that setting up these daily practices is what’s going to help me feel the most settled out here.

Before I do anything else (or take care of anyone else) I know this is what I need, and I trust I’ll find it.   

There are so many other things on my mind right now and if you were sitting here with a cup of tea I’m sure we would talk for hours. 

I know these things may seem specific to me, and our move.  But I hope for any of you reading this right now, who is going through any sort of change in your life (as we all always are) that you’re not alone.  That change, while so damn scary, is such a beautiful gift.

How lucky are we to be able to experience ourselves in a new way.  In new jobs.  New relationships.  New places.  It opens our world and our minds to new ways of living and new ways of being. 

And at the very core of it, allows us to see ourselves deeper and clearer.  

To push ourselves past our current edge, forcing us to grow into the people we are destined to become. 

If we’re never uncomfortable, or things are never uneasy, we stay the same.  And nothing in our world changes.  

We need each other to grow, to change.  It’s how we move forward as a collective.  So while this season may feel hard, let this be your reminder that you, my friend, are a part of something much bigger.  And that there is something even more beautiful on the other side of this that you can’t even begin to imagine.  For all of us.

Sending you all so much love in this season of growth.

xoxo,

Katy   

I’m sitting here, with music playing in the background, incense burning, a cup of tea in my hand, writing in one of my favorite spots.  Our kitchen.  I think of all the places I’ve ever lived, this kitchen feels the most like “home”.  It feels like “me”.  

This renovation project, by far and away, has been my happiest.  Not just with how it turned out, but with the whole process too.  It felt fun and exciting and evolved as it went.  I’m over the moon with how it came together. The space feels light and bright. Modern and sophisticated, while also being approachable, casual and a place you just want to be. It’s hard to put into words, but the space just has really good energy.

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….to California!

Even just writing those words feels surreal.  We’re moving to California.

Never did I ever imagine.  Well….maybe a little.

I’ve said this before on here, but it’s worth repeating.  The more I have the pleasure of living, the more abundantly clear it is to me that the Universe, God, Source (whatever you want to call it) is conspiring for us.  

To give us the life experiences we need (not necessarily want) to grow and expand into the people we’re destined to become.  And that it’s up to us, to stay open, to see the signs in front of us, and bravely follow with faith. 

If I’m being really honest and reflecting back, I think there have been signs for years (if not a decade) that this would be a chapter in our story.  I just wasn’t ready, until now. 

Years ago, and I’m talking a decade ago when Lill was a baby, we lived in a townhouse in Chicago.  We had just sold our condo in the city, and had plans to move to the burbs – but I had cold feet. I wasn’t quite ready to leave the city and was lucky enough to find a townhouse to rent in a neighborhood we loved.  It gave me a year to recalibrate.  That was also the year I coincidentally got really into yoga and did my first yoga teacher training.  I share that because it was the first year I really started my personal growth journey and began questioning a lot of things.

I had this green journal I’d write in every day while the kids napped. I can still picture it, and I remember sitting on the top floor of our townhouse writing out a list of “what if’s….”. 

• What if JP quit his job and we started our own business, together
• What if we raise the kids differently than we were raised
• What if we got out of here, just us and the kids, and moved to California

I’m not sure what made me write down California.  Maybe it seemed like warmer, sunnier, lighter days. I’m not sure.  But either way, something made me write that.  “What if we moved to California.”  I guess that’s all it took.  A seed was planted.  

Since then our life has taken us in so many directions.  Chicago, New York, Connecticut, back to Chicago.  And I don’t doubt for a second those were ALL necessary.  Without question, I know I’m the woman I am today, and we’re the family we are, because of each of those moves & lived experiences.  Each one shaped us into someone new.  Read More

We just got home from a last-minute trip to Florida with the kids. It wasn’t their spring break. We just needed a moment away together as a family so we all played “hookey” for a week and snuck away.

We’ve gone to the same place in Florida for the past 5 or 6 years (30A), but I think this was probably our last (for lots of reasons). But it was good to go back one final time.

It was a great trip.  It took me a few days to settle in (which I’ll share more about below) but once I finally did, I was all in.  Diving over waves with them.  Racing in the pool.  Playing games at dinners.  Cuddling on the couch watching murder mysteries.  I hope our kids remember me, and JP too, being parents that were “in it’ with them, really playing with them and making memories with them, instead of just watching it all happen.  That’s been a new change for me in the past few years in my parenting, and it feels really good.  Something I wish I would have done years ago.  Read More