I finally published my book. Fifteen years in the making. I needed to emotionally distance myself from the content before publishing.

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Book description:

My Secret Innuendo®: In the Tiniest House of Time is a collection of poems and creative expression written during the most raw years of a woman's life—grief, heartbreak, healing—finally given room to breathe after more than a decade has passed. The title itself is a quiet metaphor: words and memories stored within a house in the mind, timeless yet suggestive and evocative. Sad, honest, and unapologetically real, this collection is for anyone who has ever had to write their way through the dark to find the light. She shares them now as they are: art. If you've ever needed permission to feel everything at once—and read or write about it—this book is for you.

Dear Destiny, I am ready now. I'm ready for my dreams to come true. I'm ready now, but let's say my dreams are already true (as they are in many ways), what does it look like in 3 years?

I have a unique iPhone text sound for my favorite people. I dreamed this morning right before waking up of one of my favorite person text sounds. While still dreaming, the text read "I dropped 10". Then I woke up. I laid there in bed trying to figure out what it meant.

I had a dream last night of a cave where I've got giant tongs to reach into the cave and pull out stuff that needs to go. I pulled out one big black thing with tentacles that I wanted to throw away quickly without any of it touching me. I said, "My Vulnerability".

There is a stairway. I climbed it last night. In my dream. I knew these stairs led to the train to the top. I got to these stairs by a train moving effortlessly on a waterway. I wanted to call someone to explain how easy it was to travel across water.

I put it in my calender that today I will write a manifesto. I thought about this in yoga this morning. I started writing in my mind. Then—after coming home—I decided to go back to a second yoga class in a row in order to get psyched; it was Bikram yoga no less. It was a physical yoga manifesto.

There is a fine balance between shyness and true expression. As if in a bit of a conundrum, I go back and forth between befriending stillness and the gems inside me that open only when the darkness underneath is stirred to view what's lurking beneath.

How do you go through your days with vibrance, where each moment matters... It's an art form and one that requires a dedicated eye to presence.

Presence in the current moment, where the eye to what matters opens up. Wide.

Dream, I tear you apart in pieces to unglue what you've become adhered to in search for wholeness. You are a bridge, and are far from broken now.

I surrender now to you. To you, and to the powers that be that will make my dreams come true in a second once I let go. To you I speak…

As the wind blows, I know why I’m a writer. Because life is in balance; like a seesaw, it tips. I see through a lens that looks for what’s interspersed as opposites—each sting has a petal. I can hear what you see when I am grateful to be alive.

You have, I'm sure, had the experience at one time in your life of forgetting what you were doing as soon as you entered another room. Do doorways actually serve as event boundaries or is one's ability to remember linked to the environment in which a decision was created?

Dear fine moment... my first few sips of coffee,

I move. I feel. My blood carries my life.

‍I am still. I look inside the calm waters... and here I find the truth of who I am.

The unconscious is where we are driven. In the same way that most of an iceberg is actually underwater, the largest part of our psyche is the unconscious—most is the "shadow."

Do you ever want to tell yourself to just STOP all this mind chatter?!  Sometimes it is even doubt that inches its way into the brilliance that has been created in your life.