The farther I get from the distracted, perfectionistic, hurried version of myself, the more I can admit difficult truths … the more I can heal … and the more I can truly live.
Lately, I find myself reflecting back on the first year of my journey—the year I faced my external distractions head on. It was the year I learned to let go of my phone, slow down, breathe deeply and hug fiercely. I had a wonderful teacher—my second-born child, Avery … my lover of life … my apple seed planter who would literally lie down in the grass and wait for a tree to grow. Avery showed me how foolish it was to get upset over life’s little mishaps. Avery steered me toward joy, as noted in the acknowledgement section of my new book:
“Avery, it is you who put the joy on the pages of this book.”
And in my life.
But here I am now, three and a half years into my journey and I am going below the surface; I am digging into my most painful internal distractions—the feelings of guilt, regret, and inadequacy that prevent me from living, laughing, and loving more than any phone ever did.
And now my inspiration is coming from my older daughter, Natalie.