Storyteller & Yoga Instructor
Since I was a little girl, I've wanted to be everything under the sun: a doctor, lawyer, ballerina, spy, artist, athlete, and on and on. I think that's why I love stories so much. I can imagine myself as whoever and whatever I want through the avenue of writing and getting lost in stories. I'm an aspiring children's novelist with a background in creative non-fiction, poetry, and teaching. You can find a snapshot of my writing in my portfolio.
When I'm not writing, my other love is yoga & wellness. I'm a former athlete, turned yogi. Several years ago I discovered Holy Yoga & I've been practicing ever since. I love helping others cultivate nourishment in body and soul, so I offer classes mostly online. Currently though, my full-time gig is that of a High School English teacher, where I get to share my love of stories and cultivate a love of reading in kids.
!["Artists swim in a sea of beliefs they do not see. Part of the artistic struggle is battling something you don't even know is there, the imaginary and invisible dragons." [Jason Jaggard | STORY EP 13]
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Two weeks into summer & I’m halfway done with revisions on my novel.
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One more week until my writing retreat & I *hopefully* start querying agents.
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To say I’m excited is an understatement.
To say I still love my story is—well—hard right now.
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But as I settle into writer mode & the deep work it takes this summer, I’m learning that the creative ebb + flow is rough.
Some days I fall into a groove while other days I literally I hate absolutely everything I’m writing.
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Yet, there’s something about the artistic struggle that’s so telling. Writing is lonely & if I give into those dragons that breathe the fire of hate into my brain, l’d never write anything. •
But then I reach out to my writing partners, & I’m reminded of the fact that this is a story I’m meant to tell.
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Whether or not I like it today or tomorrow or weeks from now—there’s a little girl or little boy out there who needs to hear this story because in a world full of hard—they need hope
And magic.
And a pesky little pixie named Finn.
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Our stories are never truly for us. We live them, we breathe them, we create them, but they are meant to be told & shared because someone else needs them more than we ever could.
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Stories change the world.
They show us we matter.
That we are loved.
That there is more out there than what we see or feel today.
Don’t underestimate the power of your story because you never know who’s life you might change for the better.
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#thepowerofstory #writer #amwriting #writersofinstagram #childrenseemagic #middlegrade #mgwriter #fantasy #writingthoughts #writinginspiration #inspire #writingcommunity #writertribe #artisticstruggle #goodvibes #writervibes #mypresentcalling](https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5722120ac2ea51fed1d03f65/5890fa976a496349b2449bf3/5b1ad3a2fb28054d88f93903/1528484784073/)
![I’ve wasn’t one for gardening as a kid, but as I’ve got older, I’ve found a new yearning to cultivate the land. I’ve started small here and there. Potting herbs at our apartments. Planting raspberry bushes at our rentals. •
Then three years ago we moved into our home where the landscaping was gorgeous & I knew for sure I’d grow into a gardener. I planted just a few things of my own to start: some blackberries, a sweet little blueberry bush, a tomato plant, & herbs.
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Then the weeds overtook my berries last year. Tiny Tom became Mighty Tom & consumed the entirety of my side garden creating havoc. The bunnies got the blueberries. Then there were the beds on the side of the house I completely forgot we even had. Overwhelm overtook me & I just let everything go. I gave into the idea that I’d never conquer it all, never have a green thumb, especially as winter lingered into April this year, & I believed my plants to be lost.
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But life grows from dirt. Ever so slowly these last few weeks, I’ve found myself cleaning & sprucing & sowing. Trying once again to breathe life into the soil & my soul. This morning, I stepped outside after a rough few days & He reminded me that the sowing is only the beginning.
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My lettuce is sprouting. My strawberries are blossoming. My little blueberries from two years ago are flourishing & I find hope in the fact that it’s taken two years for that little plant to come alive.
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Because in these two years, I too have wrestled with growth, hardship, and joy. •
But even still—when I wake up in the morning feeling like hope is lost—especially when my heart aches for a future that seems so uncertain— He shows me life comes unexpectedly through the waiting. And when go out weeping, carrying our seeds, He promises we will come back with songs upon songs of joy.
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It’s in this moment when His faithfulness helps me to find happy here.
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Maybe you find yourself in the same place friend. Waiting for something that doesn’t seem to be coming. Grieving what was or what may not be. If so, may these words be a comfort to you as they are to me in this season:
“Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.”
[Psalm 126:5] 🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱](https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5722120ac2ea51fed1d03f65/5890fa976a496349b2449bf3/5afb329caf684979971d433b/1526411942755/)
