Reflections from the Tent

Sometimes we have to step away from the noise to remember what truly matters.

Just like that, it is August. Hints of fall permeate the air, and the back‑to‑school buzz has begun.

I hope this finds you well—riding the waves of life as best you can, and staying connected to those who feed your heart and soul.

I’ve just returned from my first camping trip in quite a while—feeling grateful and grounded. I was reminded of how much beauty exists in the world, and how easily we can become clouded by the drama and darkness of these complex days we are living in.

Colorado has been my home for over 25 years, and I am still in awe of its beauty and magic.

Although my 50‑year‑old body doesn’t love sleeping on the ground, there was something deeply healing about doing so for four nights. Slow days, river bathing, hiking, immersing in the trees, quiet and stillness, hot spring soaking, and long, heart‑deep conversations with my partner…

It was something I desperately needed—and something I wish for each of you to experience in your own way.

For you, it may not be sleeping on the earth or doing what we did. It might be tending your garden. Taking a slow walk. Sitting beside running water. Standing on the ocean’s edge with sand between your toes.

This “something” I’m speaking of is a depth of connection—within our own bodies and hearts, and with something much bigger than our human experience.

Stepping away from devices—and especially from social media and the news—gave me the space to reconnect and remember.

May you find these moments within yourself.
Because in navigating this wild and excruciating unfolding, we need each other whole.
Let us do what we must to stand tall, stay aligned, and remain tethered—to our own hearts and to the communities that remind us of who we are.

I’ll leave you with the words of the recently departed, brilliant, and beautiful poet Andrea Gibson—words I hope we take to heart, and let guide the way we live:

“Friend, if the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other,
my god that is plenty
my god that is enough
my god that is so so much for the light to give
each of us at each other’s backs
whispering over and over and over,
‘Live. Live. Live.’”

Thank you for being on this journey with me.
I’m grateful to be here with you.

I’m always here for support and connection—please don’t hesitate to reach out anytime!

Take good care of yourselves. Be kind to each other.