25 Days of Self Discovery | day one

I was going to start this journaling thing like two weeks ago, but life is life, so here we are now. For 25 prompts, I will be as honest as I can with myself and hopefully find some more light at the end. Got to start of the new decade trying for better things, right?


  1. What would I tell my future self?


I do not know was my first reaction to this question, but after sitting on it for a bit, I think I’d tell my future self to relax and that every little and big thing that is happening will eventually connect and make sense.

I tell myself this a lot even though I don’t listen every time. This past year I saw the bigger picture on the struggles I had been going through and it landed me in a place that I desperately wanted. It’s funny to think that it just fell into place. I kept trying and kept failing, but it all worked out.

I’m not struggling as much as I did in my early 20s, but it’s still there, so something I want to tell my future self as much as I tell my present self is that everything happens for a reason.






If you’re interested in the list and the original article, click here!


A little reminder sketch that we don’t have to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders, but, of course, we’re strong enough to do whatever the hell we want.


Shades of Blue

I have the itch to keep writing new things, but I really need and want to finish editing my book, so I’ve decided this poetry/graphic design can be the compromise–even though I’ve never written actual poetry…

I use to always write song lyrics, though, and to me, it’s the same thing.

Would love to hear what your impression of my first one is! (Or if it even makes sense, haha.)


Fly High

Today, I started editing my book again. It wasn’t much and probably won’t be much because the first preseason hockey game is tonight, but it was something.

It felt good, too. I tried just free-writing because the thought of coming back to this massive, almost-finished manuscript is for some reason very daunting. However, no ideas were coming out and the soon I was drawn back to my book. So, yeah, it feels good and it feels right. It’s been a second since I’ve felt this way, so I’m going to just fly right alone with it.

Now, enjoy these eagles pics I took in Canada. (They were super popular on Instagram—that was nice, too!)



Thank you for stopping by!


Free Writing | Nature ep. 1

A flower here and a flower there enriched the endless greens with jewel-toned glitter. The path less traveled had narrowed over time to a jagged walkway framed by a canopy of twisted branches that, for the time being, held as much green as below.

Truthfully it didn’t matter what time of year, nature crafted a sturdy tunnel that started on the edge of an open field with brush up to only a meager portion of its entirety. It grew in a tangled mess of every sort of plant imaginable—or rather it blossomed those imaginations that saw it. A never-ending effect drew from the tallest trees and their branches that curved over from old age.

The dirt stretched in anything but a boring line. The edges hidden under brush curled around rocks big enough to sit on and tree trunks left for dead after occasional destruction clean up, but mostly it sat and blended back into nature. 

The sun struggled shining through the puzzle of leaves and left an eerie kind of magic underneath. Heat escaped the air that joined the dim light, often providing a refreshing break.

Drops of sweat she felt gathering along her humidity-curled hairline disappeared hardly minutes into her walk. A blessing in disguise to name it all was an understatement.

And it was all hers.

Thank you for reading! It is super nice to take a break and write with no plan. Sometimes it even evolves into a plan. 😉

Also, any tips with commas would be great. I find myself guessing time and time again if I’m doing them correctly.

Thank you!


Free Writing | 6.29.19

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In a crowded room drowned in dimmed lights that changed to the beat, danced a young woman squished between friends, avoiding aggressively-bouncing grown men who don’t understand the concept of personal space. 

They laughed and grabbed hands, switching positions anytime one got too close. Not interested in starting a relationship on the dance floor, but preferring to have at least one only girls night a month, they had grown accustomed to the drill.

A break in songs they actually knew led them to the bar. The blonde wiggled her way between two overly tall bodies and stood on the small step underneath the bar, leaning forward with her card in hand. A few minutes passed and the tall man to the left asked what she was drinking.

“Cider,” she said with a bright smile on her face, but immediately turned to the now ready bartender and ordered three for her and her friends. 

With the bartender busy, the man leaned in again. “Let me buy you a round.” 

Three glass bottles slid in front of her. She grabbed them, holding them in between her and the man. “Already got it, but thanks anyway.” 

The man laughed. “And I got the next one. Three more of those and a beer, please,” he said to the bartender. 

“No, thank you,” she said again and motioned to the bartender, who nodded. 

“What? You don’t want free drinks?” The man puffed his chest out, losing his cheerful demeanor.

The woman glared. “I just bought drinks. We don’t need more.”

“Yeah, whatever. Try not being such a tease, then.” His eyes raked her body, settling on her chest. 

She walked away without another word to join her giggling friends who had spotted a cutie across the room. With a playful smile and raised eyebrows, she handed out the drinks. “Perfecting your plan of attack?” 

“Maybe,” the two said innocently before they all burst into childish laughter—the encounter with the man out of sight and out of mind because let’s face it, it wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last time they’d run into a guy like that. 

Basically what it’s like to be single and in your 20s…

I’m trying to write more and since my brain goes 100 different directions at all times and some days I just can’t focus on my stories, I’ve started to do the free writing thing. It’ll probably come out more personal than other things because it’s obviously easier to write what you know.

I’ve just recently started going out almost every weekend and while I don’t necessarily enjoy that, I also don’t like spending all my time alone in my studio apartment… it is very hard to date in your late 20s.

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed the little story of men who don’t get it! 😉

Thank you for reading!



Verb; to bask in the sun
1690s; derived from latin

A time taken for granted by many; it was a day spent in the sun that could cure possibly the deepest of darkness. In a place where the clouds covered on the regular, where the cold lingered for far longer than the warmth, it became clear the mind wasn’t that strong. 

It was a sneaky, slow process that rose unknown until it was too late. 

Or maybe even until it was over. 

It was common, though, and when that time truly was done, it was hard to miss. Attitudes flipped as fast as frowns and with it a whole new life appeared. 

For everyone. 

A light both from within and from above shined brighter than it had in months. All a result from being still in the light and letting it relax tense muscles and minds. 

What a joy and a gift it is to not only be in the sun, but appreciate all it gives life.


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Thank you for reading. As you may have guessed, it’s finally warm enough to lay in the sun here in MN. It’s hands down one of my favorite times of the year.


Inspiration in Weird Places

A lot of the times, I struggle with being inspired—inspired to work out, to dress up, to write, to take pictures. It’s a battle of my mind that is often left a loss, but not always. Sometimes, it likes to pop up out of no where like:

the literal moment I find out someone I know/follow wrote a book and got it published (because if they can, why can’t I?)

when I find out a movie (whether it is good or not) was based off a book


when my apartment is clean and candles are lit (and all I want to do is take a nap)

at work

in dreams that I forget when I wake up

when I’m driving

when I’m basking in the sun on one of the few nice days in MN so all I want to do is bask in the sun.

Today, I realized that usually my inspiration comes at very inconvenient times, so today I’m pushing myself to start making the conscious decision to act on as many of those times as I can, even if it’s just to write down a few words to jumpstart it later.

I think I keep letting it slip through my fingers. Time to grab hold instead.





Noun: FEER-ye-brak (old English)

Distinct, sharp crackling or breaking sound made by a fire

Dim speckles of light fought to be seen among the clouds that swirled in the black empty sky. Smoke rose from a spot of dirt circled by stone in the middle of a clearing lined of pine and birch trees. It twisted as high as it could and blended with the graying clouds above. 

Even from a distance away, sounds could be heard. A rhythm played soft, yet sharp through the leaves. It grew louder with each step and was clear as day where the dirt and brush met grass.

The noise, from a pile of logs still damp from the previous day rainfall, held comfort among many. It meant there was a chance to sit and relax, to escape from a reality that was much louder and much busier. It was a time to converse and teach and learn, to laugh and smile and joke. It was a time to be cherished and to never be taken for granted. 

Flames danced as the centerpiece, casting shadows on the faces that sat around it. The base of the fire turned colors of teal and violet from old copper wire strategically placed between the wood. The conversations continued as wildly as the flames and only died down as the coals became ash. 

But the memories, the memories remained for a lifetime and more, a centerpiece in the heart, just as the fire burned.


Fires are my JAM— in bonfire or fireplace form, they all good. It’s also the inspiration of one of my tattoos because the meaning for me is essentially the love and feeling of content that comes with sitting around a fire with friends and family. And thinking of that really helps with you’re feeling down in the dumps!

Thank you for reading!


‘Tis afterwords that everything is understood.

‘Tis afterwords that everything is understood.
Old Irish Saying

It’s hard to look up to the sky and trust in the faith that everything happens for a reason. When things skip a beat or turn around, it leaves trails of confusion, defeat—the little light of hope swaying dangerously in the breeze.

The trip is endless as a journey begins behind the close of another. Patience teeters on an edge of desire and hopelessness, barely strong enough to hold out and frustration lingers before the transition. Questions run about why and why and why. They never stop—just take a bridge over to the next.

But then it does happen. A link threads through the actions and thoughts, making a ladder for us to climb on. 

We are here because of what we have done. Whatever happens is an extension of the choices made before, the mistakes made before. We don’t get to know the why until after and whether you believe in written words of faith or you’ve developed a personal faith like me, we rest easy in knowing that there is a reason and a lesson connected to each of the biggest and smallest parts of our lives.

It’s a conscious decision made every day, multiple times a day, to live on trusting in ourselves and trusting in what we can make of this world.

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These are totally “in the mood” prompts. A little relaxing music helps the wheels to turn, but I hope you enjoyed this little snippet from my mind! Let me know where these words brought you or what you took from it!

Thanks for reading!