As Kelvin's voice faded, I stared at my phone, overwhelmed. "I don't think I'm OK," I whispered, the world spinning around me. Kelvin knelt beside me, offering tissues as I sobbed through the flood of emotions triggered by a message from a long-lost friend.

Later, under the soft glow of a streetlight, we sat side by side. With each sip of miso soup and each shared silence, I felt pieces of myself healing. It was a poignant reminder of the beauty and strength found in being truly seen and loved.

After reconnecting with him, the “honeymoon period” lasted about two years and then he eventually once again behaved with the old patterns of abusive behavior. Nothing had changed. Of course, he could be very nice at times. That’s all part of the cycle.

As I practice healing, I'm not just preparing for my art; I'm cultivating a space where my soul can breathe, where I am fully in tune. It's here, in this sacred space, that I find the strength to create, to express, and to BE. Art, like healing, is not stagnant but flowing, a dance of color, emotion, and life.

Lectio Divina, or "divine reading" in the poetic tongue of Latin, is a dance with the Scriptures, a journey through stages of reading, pondering, praying, and basking in the divine.

It all begins with an idea.

It all begins with an idea.

Let me tell you one of my favorite stories about two brothers, Jacob and Esau. No one remembers Esau as the good guy, but he’s a lot like you and me.

Lessons I’m learning in my Crossfit journey.