Wild Mother

01/05/2026

01/04/2026

🩷

01/01/2026

Everyone wants January to be a rebirth.
A clean slate. A brand new version of yourself by Monday. But nature tells a different story.

The true new year begins in the spring, when the earth thaws, sap rises, buds swell, and life actually starts moving again. Winter isn’t for becoming. It’s for conserving. For listening. For composting what didn’t work. For rest that doesn’t need to be justified.

Yes, the calendar changes. But the land is still quiet.
The days are still short. Our nervous systems are still asking for warmth, slowness, and less demand.

There is no pressure to reinvent yourself right now.
No requirement to hustle your way into better.
No failure in feeling tired, reflective, quiet, or inward.

This is wintering time. A sacred pause.
A season for deep thought, deep feeling, and deep rooting.

You don’t plant seeds in frozen ground and expect them to thrive. You let the soil rest. You trust what’s happening underground.

So if all you’re doing right now is breathing, tending what’s tender, and keeping the fire lit, you are right on time.

Spring will come. And when it does, you’ll rise naturally without force, without shame, without becoming someone you were never meant to be.

Some thoughts from the early am sitting in my little home in town, reminding myself that everything is a rhythm and a season, and staying in alignment with them creates ease.

Wild Mother

12/30/2025

I’ve been feeling a little quieter lately.
That deep wintering feeling has settled in.

And yet when I’m here, in this slower season, the words still flow. Maybe even more so. My writing always seems to deepen in winter, shaped by reflection and long pauses.

I finally found a little place for my treadmill in my creative space, and that feels like such a gift. As much as I love getting outside to walk, there’s something comforting about being able to just hop on, move my body, and come back into myself. I’m really grateful for that.

Alongside the gratitude, there’s a heaviness too.

Christmas is over. New Year’s is almost here. And January brings more conversations with lawyers, realtors, and the slow unraveling that comes with selling the farm. Some days it feels dreamlike, almost unreal. Other days the weight of it settles in fully the reality of letting go of a place I once called home.

When I first arrived there, I don’t think I could fully explain what I felt only that I finally understood what home meant. After years of running, searching, and never quite landing, I found a place that held me. A place that grounded me beneath my feet.

I went from someone constantly seeking to someone steady enough to grow.

I’m still carrying that steadiness with me.
Even now.
Even here.

Wild Mother

12/29/2025

💓

Wild Mother

12/29/2025

🩷

Wild Mother

12/28/2025

💖

12/24/2025

I was in a small old bookstore, closed my eyes, ran my fingers along the spines, and stopped when something told me to stop. That was it. No plan, no research.

That was 14 years ago.

The pages are yellow now. Most of it is underlined. I don’t read it straight through , I open it when I need grounding or perspective. It’s been with me through motherhood, through the loss of my own mother, through big life changes and the quieter seasons where I was just trying to stay afloat.

I’ve brought it with me to women’s circles I’ve facilitated. It’s sat beside me during conversations about grief, gratitude, and becoming , not as a rule book, just as a steady presence.

Some books don’t just get read.
They end up woven into your life.

Still carrying it. Still underlining. 🤍

I felt this read today was fitting for the season

📖 The Thirteen Original Clan Mothers

12/23/2025

♥️

Wild Mother

12/23/2025

This time of year can be really heavy.

Everywhere you look it’s joy, magic, holly jolly, happy holidays, but that isn’t everyone’s reality.

For a lot of us, this season comes with stress, grief, tight finances, big responsibilities, and quiet worries we don’t always talk about. Rising costs, trying to keep a roof over our heads, unexpected expenses ( tires) , missing people who should still be here , it all feels louder in December.

I’m doing my best to stay positive and keep moving forward, but I also want to say this out loud,

If you’re not feeling festive , If you’re tired, anxious, grieving, or just getting by, You are not broken, You are not alone.

It’s okay if this season feels tender instead of joyful.
Gentle is enough. Showing up is enough. Breathing through the day is enough.

Im still trying to come to terms with what im having to come up woth every month just to have somewhere to sleep, the world has drastically changed and though gratitude creates abundance its ok to just say this really is outrageous.

And i do know magic always finds us. And days get brighter 🤎

Sending so much love to anyone who needed permission to feel exactly how they feel right now 🤍

Wild Mother

12/23/2025

If you’re still needing a last minute gift, I have Wild Mother Apothecary gift certificates ready for local pickup 🌿

They’re available in any amount and make a beautiful, flexible gift.

Supporting small businesses , especially this time of year , truly means everything, and I’m so thankful for this community.

Message me if you’d like one 🤍

Wild Mother

12/22/2025

This cold 🤒 is kicking my butt, lingering and finally get in to see an eye dr tomorrow morning for this chalazion on my right eye. I get nervous for medical stuff so wish me luck that it doesn’t hurt too badly.

Basically just a big complainer today 🤣

🤎🤎🤎