I love art. Music, photography, aesthetics, storytelling… and being inspired by each.

Now it seems to simple to pursue a life of art- openly and authentically. I try to recall why it wasn’t always so obvious, but then I remember- in terms of careers- art wasn’t respected when I was growing up.

Well, it was respected. But the process not so much.

It’s funny how impatient we were all indoctrinated to be with essentially any process.

You start something and you quit- you’re clearly not good at it, it’s uncomfortable being a beginner, etc. To do something we had to be good at it- no one ever said you’re allowed to suck at your interests and hobbies.

And we don’t ever suck. I compare the beginner’s stage to a newborn child or a toddler. New, curious, eyes open- unknowing, but trusting. Brand new to this world.

This is beautiful and innocent and it reconnects me to the essence of this whole human experience.

All the playfulness and curiosity that is available to us- should we really consciously shift into that space.

I would never tell a toddler it’s wrong- how could that be?

It is running on instinct, love, and curiosity and more connected to creation than ever- having just come from Source to here- with a particular mission. Everything from A to B is fated from here.

We learn the lessons we chose upon incarnation.

Especially the ones that really suck but totally crack us open to more.

More life, more love, more art, and more freedom to explore them all.

A really particular thing happens when I take especially long and uphill treks on my bike- there’s a mixture of endorphin-induced bliss and a feeling of meditative-like exhaustion. When I get home- I can do chores I previously neglected from a very steady, connected, and ritualistic place. I don’t engage with anything that makes me tired. I’m naturally more discerning and relaxed about everything.

I have this theory- that when things were really hard and exhausting, against my will, years ago beginning this journey- that I was the deepest in the integration and transformation.

But in coming from that chapter into other ones- I’ve found that meeting the edge of my capacity, still, like I did then- but now in empowered ways; moving my body, defying all odds, regulating more intensity than ever has kept me open to accelerated personal growth.

I know the importance of conscious and intentional rest- the way the seasons cycle from fast-pace to slow and so do we. I know that I, as a woman, am cyclical- experiencing a natural cycle that holds wisdom that words do not describe.

But the moments of deep and powerful worship within my body and it how it moves and what it is capable of is such an integral piece of the whole picture.

Doing hard things, getting uncomfortable and seeing what we’re made of is like church.

I could never, ever, ever recommend it more.

It makes you want to nourish your body more. It brings you into awe and appreciation and challenges oh-so-many self-limiting beliefs around what we’re capable of.

They’re basically all lies.

We are capable of anything and everything- in art, in movement, in life and in love.

And it’s all the same.

We are all athletes, writers, poets, dancers, and artists- we are made of the same stuff and we feel the same love and sadness.

A life of art is possible- and what a journey it has been in coming to see this.