2024 Photo Journal
I'm happy to report that 2024 was *not* the worst year of my life
In my last post, I shared some of my writing and the memories floating to the surface in these final reflective days of 2024.
Below are the highs and lows—illustrious of the public years but not the private days.
What a mysterious phenomenon that the most grating days are part of some larger rippling; our memories color them differently than we felt them.
The hardest days can make way for the biggest breakthroughs and deepest convictions.
Is every year the hardest year of your life?
As hard and as exhausting as this year was, most areas of my life are finally trending upward.
I’m happy to report that this year was not the worst year of my life.
Hallelujah.
My Year in Review
My year-ahead reading said 2024 would be the year I would “take flight.”
At the beginning of the year, I wondered if I could possibly handle it. Handle what?
*Gestures at everything.*
I wondered if things like stability and belonging were really for me.
I wondered if I could truly be fair to my body in a world that wants us soulless and compliant.
In January and February, I got a taste of expressing my work publicly, holding space for intimate moments of growth and courage with in person readings in Detroit and Los Angeles, one of them alongside one of my best friends.
I got to hug several of my clients in person for the first time and eat tacos on a utility box in a parking lot.
I struggled with my physical health daily. My mental and spiritual health were the best they’d ever been but my external world didn’t match what I knew I was capable of. My life was a constant reminder of the difference between capacity and capability (more on this in my last post).
In April, I moved back to San Diego, California—a placed I moved to and from during the pandemic. The song “In Flight (two)” played as I landed. It was a second chance in the Sun. A second chance in an environment that could feed and fuel my joy.
We lived in a hotel for two weeks with our cats. They kind of loved that we were all trapped in one room together, but they hated the linens.
We moved into an apartment that was so violently loud. My daily migraines intensified and the sensory overload was torture. I never thought I’d adjust.
In May, I took a lot of naps on the beach, held my manuscript in my hands of the first time, and celebrated five years with Kyle.
In June, I got a full-time job after 18 months of rejection. My mom visited, and Kyle’s mom and sister visited us and got to see our new home and beginning.
In July, my youngest sister was hospitalized and diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at 24 years old. I spoke to her the day before her life changed forever. I couldn’t help but wonder how many young people are dismissed with an stress/anxiety diagnosis when something deeper and potentially life-threatening is really going on? Her diagnosis kicked me into tending to my own list of health symptoms and doing a better job at making the time to talk to the people I love.
In August, I self-published my first book Silent Sound: 44 Poems to Hear Your Soul. Publishing my book changed my brain chemistry for the better. Tying up something with a bow and putting it out into the world exactly as I envisioned, only better, showed me that I can “handle it.” Receiving DMs that a reader was in tears while I was watching TV on the couch unlocked something about impact. My capacity is so finite but my book sits on nightstands and coffee tables all over the world touching hearts in exactly the moment and time *they* need. I set something free from my bubble of being, and it gets to exist in perpetuity.
In September, I visited home for a week of much-needed R&R. Despite being the oldest, I’m the “fun one” now because I went in the lake as many days as I could. I cherished time with my sister and shared her first meal with her after receiving her insulin pump.
I spent time with my parents, my other sister, and brother-in-law on the boat, as well as celebrated Kyle’s sister’s birthday with his family who feels like mine too after knowing them all these years. I gave my grandma my book, hugging her for what I didn’t know would be the last time.
In October, I hosted my first in person events in San Diego and as an author. My sister and brother-in-law stayed with us and we found better pasta than they did in Europe.
Near the end of the month, the day came that I dreaded my entire life. My grandma passed—suddenly and quickly, but with no pain. I shared the eulogy I wrote for her here because there are too many and not enough words.
In November, I felt a renewed purpose. I cherished my community Shadow Play with moving sessions and readings. I traveled home for my grandma’s memorial where I gave my first eulogy.
In December, I pulled joy into focus. I met an octopus. I drank cacao with friends. I scheduled appointments. I mustered up some words. I chose to make due with the sensory ick of wet sandy feet so I could dip my feet in the icy sea.
May your 2025 be as warm, rich, and sweet as this cacao.
See you in 2025
Shadow Play | Spiritual Community If spiritual and creative community is a focus for you for 2025, join our gentle space for sensitive creatives and neurodivergent souls. For just $33/m, receive intuitive mentorship and regular practices inside a community focused on live, real connections. You don’t need more notifications—you real connections and timely practices that help you remember who you are.
The Presence Scan | 1:1 Psychic Reading (Recorded) A powerful, private reading to ground, center, and renew. In a voice note, I'll speak to an overall theme for your upcoming 3-6 months; the energetic landscape of any transitions or changes you're sensing; how much and where to ease in to support your body's sense of safety and presence; and provide tangible somatic practices based on your physical energy to nourish your well-being from the ground up. $55. Two spots available weekly.
The Trust Fall | 1:1 Tarot Reading (Live) Steady into your truth for the year as we leverage the wisdom of the cards to explore life, love, work, creativity, and purpose. Gentle and full of grace, I bring your inner knowing forward with context, language, images, and themes that affirm your instincts. $99.