What seemed like a dream, doing the creative work I love, was all-encompassing. I couldn’t seem to slow down or set boundaries. Even after my mother — my best friend! — died from breast cancer in 2016, I did not stop to process my grief. I bypassed the gaping hole in my heart and continued my autopilot go-go-go lifestyle. I ended up getting breast cancer, too. Did I consider resting, or listening to my body? Of course not. Near-constant overwhelm during the day and a haze of wine at night was life’s turbule
When I ordered 3,000 bulbs while putting away an entire bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, I had no idea how my world would be uprooted. Or that it would lead me to blossom into my true self.
My garden is called the Slope of Possibility.