02/23/2026
I’m back from retreat (my 20th, 21st, and 22nd in beautiful Nosara, Costa Rica) and trying to hold on to the lightness of life in the tropics as the world quickly presses in and responsibility resumes.
Jack Kornfield wrote a whole book about this moment. After the Ecstasy, the Laundry — the title alone says everything. Profound transformation and dirty dishes. Insight and inbox. Both true, both yours, both happening at the same time.
There’s something about the magic that unfolds when we step out of our lives for a moment to restore ourselves. Some of it is pure joy — laughter, ease, the relief of just being. And some of it is quieter than that. When we’re no longer managing every detail, a different kind of knowing has space to rise. A higher view. The kind of clarity that was there all along — just waiting for us to get quiet enough to hear it.
I don’t share this to brag. I share it because I think most of us are overdue for something like it.
We need to gather with our people outside of ordinary time. Explore new landscapes, get outside, laugh hard, move our bodies, and make new memories. You don’t need me for any of that — though I love being the one to plan every detail so you don’t have to.
No meals to plan, no dishes to wash, no next thing to manage. Just space to step away from responsibility and let someone take care of you for a change. I know “holding space” sounds a bit “woke” or “woo” to some. But I love it. It perfectly describes what I’m passionate about—and I’m not “woo” at all.
This year, I returned home stronger than I have felt in years — from daily yoga, nourishing food, and time in nature away from screens. Back in the mountains, I’m figuring out how to hold onto some of that in real life. Twenty minutes in the morning before I open my phone. A walk with our dog, Mila. Choosing quiet over a podcast. Nothing dramatic — just small choices that add up.
With love (& a pile of laundry) ✨