Happy 26th Birthday, Emma Joy!

Oct 31, 2022 | Mothers and Daughters

How is it possible that you are 26 today? (The question I’m really asking is how it is possible that I have a 26-year-old as of today!!) The answer to both questions matter little. What matters most—and always has—is that you are here and you are you and every bit of that, every bit of you, is as glorious and amazing and full-of-life as ever.

The day you posted this picture on Facebook, your update said, “almost 26, signing a lease on a new apartment tomorrow, and really excited about life in general 💕 oh and my hair is pink 🙂” That pretty much captures it, yes? And every bit of your enthusiasm is made more beautiful given the work and effort and intention and courage you apply to who you are, what you value, and how to make your way in this life and this world. 

I read a book last week about the power of stories and magic, identity and culture, gender and hegemony, being a kid who only wants to be themselves. It was also about being a parent who only wants their kid to be happy . . . to make sure they know they are endlessly and always loved. It was fabulous. Made more so because it was the kid who taught the parents, the kid who understood, the kid who had the capacity to change the world and even if not, to be themselves in it anyway. 

And that’s what I believe about you, Emma Joy. You have the capacity to change the world and be yourself in it. You also have the capacity to be yourself even when/if the world does not change . . . at least in the ways and with the speed you desire and deserve. 

As you navigate this world—both its brokenness and its beauty—not to mention work, money, friendships, choices, and so much more, I watch with awe and joy and delight and pride and hope and faith. And love. 

Happy 26th Birthday, Emma Joy. I love you – endlessly and always. 

Happy 24th Birthday, Abby!

Oct 7, 2022 | Mothers and Daughters

Happy Birthday, sweet girl. Every year I wonder how it is possible that twelve months / fifty two weeks / three hundred and sixty five days have caused me to love you even more.  And yet, without fail, I do.

And these twelve months?

I have watched you embrace and embody courage, conviction, tenderness, vulnerability, strength, perseverence, grief, possibility, and promise.

I have watched you reach deep within to summon all these and then some as you have made hard decisions—choosing to consistently and bravely honor yourself.

I have watched you move across the country, establish a new home, and start a new job—demonstrating grace and hope in the midst of the inevitable struggles and stresses that can’t help but accompany these huge transitions.

I have watched you love and laugh, agonize and cry, question and doubt, pick and choose, fall down and rise up—over and over again.

Over and over again I have been amazed by you, humbled by you, grateful for you beyond what words can possibly express. And still I try . . .

I marvel at who you are and who you continue to become. I marvel at the fact that somehow, in the grand-and-miraculous scheme of things, I have the privilege of being your mom. And I marvel at the certainty that when another twelve months / fifty two weeks / three hundred and sixty five days have passed, I will love you more still.

Happy 24th Birthday, Abby. I love you.

Happy 25th Birthday, Emma Joy!

Oct 31, 2021 | Mothers and Daughters

How is it possible that you are 25? 

How is it possible that my memories-like-they-were-yesterday of your birth are from 25 years ago?

How is it possible that you have already traversed 25 years of life?

How is it possible that the joy you brought into my life 25 years ago grows in strength as each year passes? 

How is it possible that in just this past 365 days you have moved more than 2,000 miles away from me and secured employment that you love and dealt with ineffective supervisors and less-than committed landlords?

How is it possible that you have done all of this in the midst of a pandemic?

How is it possible that I have only seen you 4 times in the past year and lived to tell the story? 

How is it possible that you continue to deepen into every quality and characteristic that makes you who you are – compassionate, generous, empathic, unboundaried, emotional, open hearted, witchy, witty, creative, committed, lovely, loving, beautiful, defiant, just, and wise? 

How is it possible that you struggle and break down and feel anxious and know worry and overextend and yet, eventually, take deep breaths and breathe in grace and even laugh? 

How is it possible that you have lived through my crises and transitions and questions and setbacks and growth and still love me as you do? 

I know the answer to every one of these questions with the same degree of fierce certainty I felt the moment you were placed in my arms. 

Every bit of this is possible because you are you, Emma Joy. 

What will yet be possible because of who you are? What stories are yet to be told and hearts yet to be melted and employers yet to be blessed and friends yet to be transformed and beauty yet to be created and love yet to be expressed and worlds yet to be shifted on their axis? 

I can no more begin to imagine any and all of this than I could have 25 years ago this day. In so many ways I am surprised. And in so many more ways I am not at all. 

For all that has changed over 25 years, never this: you have always amazed me, always stunned me, always filled my eyes with tears of joy, always held my heart. 

And all because you are you – fully, completely, honestly, openly, broken, hurting, aching, celebrating, dancing, playing, longing, hugging, hoping, loving, believing, being…

…being you. 

You are the gift, sweet girl – now for 25 years and for every single moment, hour, day, week, month, year and quarter-century to come. 

I love you.

Happy  Birthday, sweet girl. 

Happy 23rd Birthday, Abby!

Oct 7, 2021 | Mothers and Daughters

I’m sure I say something similar every year, but how is it possible that you are 23 today? How is it possible that I have had the privilege of having you in my life, being your mom, loving you – all this time? It’s miraculous, really: there’s no other way to describe it.

You are miraculous; really.

This last year, like so many before, has walked (and sometimes pushed) you into more growth, more deepening into who you are, more perspective and choice and courage and wisdom. You are a privilege to witness.

A whole year without living at home, even partially. A whole year in a completely different city and state from me (which is, I’ll admit, too far away). A whole year of Covid – masks and vaccines and quarantine and still coming down with it – surviving, muddling through, even thriving. Another whole year of school – with all its ups and downs. A whole year of working – jobs that have quickly recognized your talent, your leadership, your heart. And a whole year of figuring out who you are – as a young woman who sees and names the injustice, the chaos, and the heartbreak of this world…and who has felt the reality of these things for herself.

Yes, really: miracle and privilege to witness every moment of these past twelve months (plus a million more beside), to see all of who you have become and all of who you are yet to become. 

The more I witness, the more I remember, the more I see: 

I see you on the sidewalk ahead of me, age 3 or 4, curly blond hair, turning back to look at me with your infectious smile. I see you burying your head in my chest when the wolves showed up in Beauty and the Beast. I see you hunched over the kitchen counter doing homework and resisting little food but chicken nuggets and microwaved tortillas with butter, cinnamon, and sugar. I see you practicing your speech for 5th grade student body president – and your face when you told me you’d won. I see you in choir after choir – witnessing your commitment, hearing your gift, feeling nearly overwhelmed with pride. I see you unexpectedly playing Tracy Turnblad in Hairspray – that one night when Jessica lost her voice and you stepped into her role despite your fears (as I wept nearly uncontrollably through the entire performance with more love than I knew I could hold). I see you shaking Mr. Ikeda’s hand, receiving your diploma, then merging into the meley of friends and photos and caps and gowns. I see you when I dropped you off at college, (both of us) afraid and brave at the same time. I see you with Jasper – far more than a dog; more, a piece of you. I see you buying your first car, loading it up, and heading back to Montana – Jasper’s head out the window. I see you deliberating over excruciating and significant decisions while holding fiercely to your value and worth.

And I see you now – the sum total of all these moments plus a million more beside. 

I remain amazed by you: your strength, your honesty, your capacity, your determination, your deep desires, your endless hope, your open heart. 

I wonder what I will yet see, what more I will tell and write of on birthdays to come. I wonder about how many ways (plus a million more beside) will you change the world. I wonder how it is that I have been blessed beyond measure to be your mom. I wonder how my heart is to hold any more of the miracle that is you. And I wonder, almost every day, how that same heart is to survive the extravagant ache that continues to pulse as I wander in between the memory of that little girl glancing back at me on the sidewalk, making sure I was close, and the woman who now runs straight toward every bit of the life that is hers.

Despite all that is unknown, this remains certain and true: I love you in more ways than I can count (plus a million more beside). Happy 23rd Birthday, sweet girl.

Today is my birthday!

Nov 30, 2020 | My sort-of Sermons, Sacred Stories, Women's Wisdom

I am 60 years old today. How is that even possible?

The days leading up to this one have been filled with reflection, to be sure. I suppose that is always the case, but this year – given that 2020 has been, well, 2020 and that I left my corporate position and that both of my daughters have moved far away from the city we’ve called home for 25+ years now and that I’m turning 60 (!!) – it feels like a lot.

Still, there is a lot to be grateful for: health, family, friends, airplanes (made far more accessible, hopefully, in the months to come). And this year, in even more significant ways than ever before, I am grateful for the ancient stories of women that have endlessly companioned me along the way.

I drew a card for myself this morning. Though I’ve done this literally thousands of times – for others and myself – I never cease to be amazed by who appears and what She has to say. As I shuffled the deck, I asked “What is uniquely mine to know on this, my 60th birthday?”

Ready for this?

Mary Magdalene:

  • Honor and distinction are yours.
  • You belong in the inner circle.
  • Oh, the wisdom you have to impart.

I could tell you of her story – how it’s been told, how it’s been misunderstood, how she’s been silenced and shamed, and still, how she rises up anyway, always, and speaks. I could tell you of the many ways in which her story mirrors my own. And I could certainly tell you much of how powerfully these three themes speak to my heart. Maybe I will do all of this and then some in a later post…

But right now?

Oh, how this touches me. (Had I done this on video, you would have seen my tears.) Oh, how I needed these words – her words. And oh, how relevant and timely and compelling and challenging and honoring! Especially since this is exactly why I’m writing this post in the first place today…

Honestly. I started this post because it is my birthday. Because on my birthday I offer New Year Readings to you at a wildly discounted rate. Because I haven’t done this the past 2 years. Because 2020 has been, well, 2020. Because I am offering them again this year (at a wildly discounted rate).

Honestly. I hadn’t intended to draw a card today, right in the middle of this writing. I certainly couldn’t have anticipated who showed up on my behalf. And I shouldn’t be remotely surprised.

Honestly. This is always what happens!

And this is perfect, actually! You can see who has shown up for me and I can invite you to find out who longs to show up for you. Truly. There are 51 more stories I work with besides Mary Magdalene’s – each of them powerful in their own right, each of them offering exactly what you need to hear and trust in 2021. Because, let’s be honest:

You deserve a year that does not disappoint.

Your 2021 Reading and the woman within will provide you every bit of the advocacy, wisdom, and grace you desire and deserve.

How can I be so certain? Well, the list of reasons is endless. But for now, let’s go with what just happened – for me (which is exactly what will happen for you)!

Today, my birthday, right now – I am clear and certain that honor and distinction are mine because I have the privilege of doing this work in the first place, being blessed by the presence and power of these women, and offering every bit of that to you. I am standing in an “inner circle,” embraced by 52 amazing women and their stories. And I am imparting wisdom – learned over 60 years to be sure; but endlessly supported by that of the ancient, sacred women who long to support you. Perfect!

Oh, how I’d love for you to receive all of this for yourself – as gift from me; the gift of your 2021 Reading. 

And the “wildly discounted” part?

Starting today, in honor of my 60th birthday, I am offering the first 60 Readings sold at 50% off.

  *****

I still find it impossible to believe that I am 60 today. But it’s not impossible for me to believe that I get to be here, right now, writing this post on this day and miraculously, graciously, still offering my deepest heart to you: these women, their stories, their knowing – and all on your behalf.

I hope you’ll take advantage of the 50% off. More, I hope you’ll receive the 2021 Reading that is yours – already waiting for you and filled with the perfect-perfect-perfect words your heart longs to hear, your year longs to make manifest, and your deepest, truest self longs to live into. 

Learn more.