Welcome.
I’m really glad you’re here.
This is the very first Rooted Riff, and it’s a really special space.
Rooted Riffs is a place I’ve created very intentionally for me (and for you) for real-time reflection. It’s a place where I get to be curious and think out loud. To explore what’s moving—energetically, emotionally, practically—and how it actually integrates into real life. I am not here for spirituality that lives only in the ethers or insights that stay stuck in my mind or in my journal. And I want to let you in so I can explore with you, connect, and geek out together.
What I share here isn’t content dictated by algorithms or trends or “what you’re supposed to say.”
It’ll be filled with things that I’m actually thinking about and “downloading,” and inspiration that I’m receiving while I’m driving, or in the shower, or out on long walks with my doggos. It’s a space I’m creating so I can show up as myself—fully, authentically, and in rhythm with my own life—and I’m inviting you into that process with me because… it feels really good. (And my inner 5-year-old thinks it’s super-fun. More on her in another post!)
I plan to share roughly every two weeks, and I would love to create some conversation around the riffs.
I’m not exactly sure what that looks like yet, but I can’t wait to see it evolve.
So, a little context for why this space is coming online now…
I’ve been a bit quieter at the start of this year—and that’s been intentional.
It wasn’t that I didn’t have things to say, but I was clearing the noise, tuning in, and I was doing more listening than talking. When I got quiet, it was amazing what I could hear, and I started attuning to my body—my rhythms and what actually feels nourishing instead of obligatory. (This idea for Rooted Riffs dropped in in that space.)
This is a one-energy year, and for me, that has meant stepping into my personal authority in a very real, lived way that is self-honoring. And that means choosing myself first—and as a priority, as a daily practice. That is the kind of self-leadership we are being called into. And I’ve never been interested in teaching things I’m not actively living.
So I slowed down.
I stopped trying to keep pace with hustle rhythms and external expectations, and I started paying attention to my own, very practical, very human things:
• What does my natural sleep cycle actually look like?
• How much water does my body really need?
• Do those supplements truly support me and my intentions?
• What kind of movement feels supportive right now—not what I should be doing, but what is my body asking for?
• What’s mine and what isn’t mine to carry? (This is a big one.)
• What genuinely feels nourishing and expansive in my body? I am done with contracting.
And honestly? It’s felt a bit like a detox. A shedding of old habits, expectations, thoughts, foods, rooms. Recalibrating hasn’t always been linear—it’s sometimes meant briefly reconnecting with past “things,” only to feel, viscerally in my body, that they’re no longer for me. That clarity hasn’t come from thinking it through. It’s come from paying attention to how my body actually responds.
Some of the changes have been surprisingly practical.
Morning coffee is now a weird no (who even am I?), but a mid-day cup of Everyday Dose is the perfect pick-me-up.
My natural sleep cycle starts later than it ever did—even later than when I was a teenager.
I’m still always moving—hiking, walking the dogs, hopping on the elliptical—but my body now craves movement that’s less linear and more fluid like dance, qigong, play.
Others have been harder to untangle from. When something registers as a “problem” in my system, I’ve learned to pause—instead of reacting immediately— to decide whether it’s actually my problem (and something I need to deal with in the moment) or whether it belongs to someone else. I’m retraining my self to not pick up what doesn’t belong to me. And it’s so freeing.
What surprised me the most, though, is how much easier it feels to process things verbally right now.
Which is funny, because I’m an author and spent years teaching writing. But this season is calling for more truth, and that truth moves through the throat. I’ve discovered that writing can tighten my flow when that shadow-y perfectionism sneaks in. When I speak, I flow, and my authentic, unfiltered energy stays intact. And I’ve learned I can get so much more done in much less time when I speak it into being.
So I’ve been building structures that support that reality instead of fighting it. Systems that honor the way my brain works, keep me both focused and fluid, and allow me to stay consistent without pressure or shame. I even created a custom GPT workflow to help keep me… well… ME, and capture my verbal flow in real time—because I’m done forcing myself into containers that don’t actually fit.
I’m committing to something that feels essential right now: less noise.
I’m honoring my temple— mind•body•spirit.
What it needs. What fuels it.
Saying no to the things that are not mine—habits, emotions, systems.
Letting go of energy leaks.
I’m saying yes to lighter, easy, natural, fun.
Choosing real connection, and what’s genuinely nourishing and generative.
And giving from overflow, not depletion.
And it feels amazing.
I’m committed to creating abundance through simplicity. Through ease. Through aligned, obvious movement.
And I’m noticing these shifts aren’t just personal.
So many nervous systems are tired of holding it all. Last year felt like a stress test—for everyone. We are all emotionally, mentally, physically, energetically exhausted. And there’s a quiet readiness now. One that craves peace, regulation, connection, and something that can actually be lived.
That’s what Rooted Riffs is for.
This space will move in a two-week rhythm. Each riff will reflect what’s alive for me in real time—energetics, insights, curiosities, integrations—as I’m actually living them. Not polished. Not teaching. Just a sneak-peek into the things I actually think about, in real life, shared as is.
This year is already different. I feel it inside of me. I’m committed to sustainable magic. To presence over push. To flow over force. To playing back with the universe instead of smiling at the synchronicities and rushing past them.
And I’m committed to sharing that journey—openly, honestly, and in a way that’s relatable and rooted in real life.
Because if we don’t share what we’re exploring and use to actually make our lives better—more spacious, more grounded, more alive, more connected—what’s the point?
