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Here we are halfway through the year and I'm not where I'd expected to be. Back in January, when I stepped away from my live monthly breathwork ceremonies, I told everyone (and myself) that it was a six-month hiatus. Come summer, I'd reopen the doors. I was so sure of that.

I started this year feeling like I'd come through a birth canal. That might sound dramatic, but it's the closest thing to the truth. Last year was one of the most challenging years I've had in a really a long time.

I recently traveled to Florida, and part of the trip included hosting a breathwork session for a local community. We planned it as an outdoor event, because, well, it's Florida. All day, the weather apps showed nothing but clear skies. We checked and re-checked. Clear skies. Clear skies. We set up outside. People arrived, laid out their mats, and got comfortable. Five minutes after we started, it poured.

I'm always a little surprised when people don't make a big deal about their birthdays. You know, the kind of people who shrug it off with, "Oh, just another day." Meanwhile, I'm over here shouting, "It's my birthday! It's my birthday MONTH."

It's so interesting how we never know where our life threads are going. We can't see how they'll weave together five years from now, ten, or even twenty years down the road. And then one day, something appears and suddenly everything clicks into place like that last jigsaw puzzle piece that fell behind the couch.

December brought me more free time than I'm used to. But instead of filling every moment with activity (my usual pattern!), I found myself drawn to a home project I'd been avoiding for over three years: the loft.