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Several weeks back I got to visit one of my dearest friends at her little cottage in the hills of Oregon. It had been well over a year since we had been together but it felt as though no time had passed at all. I love friends like that, hard to come by and easy to keep. We were quickly joined by another dear friend who I’ve known for nearly 15 years. We had a girls’ week spent sleeping in, cooking meals together, soaking in the hot springs on a mountain side, hiking in the woods, staying up late talking and laughing, sipping cocktails, and exploring Portland. It was the definition of perfect and my soul was fed. I returned home inspired and refreshed, carrying our time together in me, the ripples of it felt long after it was over.

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It’s been months since I have shared stories or pictures in this space. Months that have been brimming with more life than I can share in a few short words. To put it simply, this life is a beautiful mess. It feels as if our daily rhythms have accelerated at warp speed and I try to make it slow down with all that’s in me, to pause for the moments that I want to hold onto. The smell of my son’s neck, the chaos of dinner time, the warmth of the wood stove, the way her not-so-little hand feels in mine, my grandmother’s voice.
But the days pass and I am always filled with a sense of gratitude, no matter how messy or beautiful, triumphant or hard they are. Each one is a gift, and for that I am grateful.

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