There is not a moment that I have regretted this adventure, not even in the darkest days of 2020. Not even on the Friday night a few months ago when I got in bed at 5 pm with tears flowing down my cheeks (I had just had it). I don't regret any of it for a second. Not a single bit…

Rushing will not get us, or me, or you to satisfaction any sooner. It will not unveil the crystal ball of a clear outcome or a certainty for what is to come. Sure, we'd all love that elusive gift of clarity, but sometimes it comes in a package of not doing versus doing…

Isn't it curious how we tend to stray from the very things we need the most during hard times? And, that it's hardest to make time for the things we actually love to do?