Lately, I’ve been finding my place again.
In my life. In my thoughts. In my goals. In my mindset.

Not in a dramatic, movie-montage way—more like slowly realizing you’ve been standing in the wrong room with the lights off and thinking, oh… this explains a lot.

There’s been a lot happening. In the world. In the news. In conversations that feel heavier than they used to. A collective sadness humming in the background, mixed with uncertainty and that low-grade anxiety we all pretend isn’t there while making grocery lists and answering emails.

And personally? Life has been… persistent.

I had surgery recently to remove a cyst. Not even a full month later—surprise!—another one shows up. Because apparently my body said, “You thought we were done here?” Bold of me to assume things would just… settle.

That’s the thing though. Life doesn’t pause because you’re tired, overwhelmed, healing, grieving, or confused. It doesn’t wait for your mood to improve or for you to feel “ready.” It just keeps going. Meetings still happen. Bills still come. The sun still rises like it’s got somewhere important to be.

Life is just… doing its thing.

There are ebbs and flows, pivots and pauses, recalculations and quiet breakdowns you schedule between responsibilities. Constantly figuring things out is exhausting—but somehow necessary. Growth isn’t a straight line; it’s more like a scribble with good intentions.

Some days I feel grounded and clear. Other days I’m deeply introspective while also asking myself why everything feels like too much before 9 a.m. Very on brand.

I’m learning (slowly, stubbornly) that finding your place isn’t a one-time event. It’s something you do over and over again. You lose it. You reclaim it. You redefine it. You get sarcastic about it because if you don’t laugh, you might scream into the void—and frankly, the void is busy.

Still, I keep coming back to this truth: community is what makes us human. We’re not meant to do this alone. It takes a village—to heal, to question, to recalibrate, to remind each other that this weird, messy, beautiful experience is shared.

So I’ll ask you, genuinely—

How are you doing?
What’s shifting in your world right now?
What are you carrying quietly?

You don’t have to have answers. None of us really do. But being here together—talking, listening, witnessing—that counts for something. Just in case, the comments are open and I am here for you.

And if life is going to keep doing its thing, I guess we’ll just keep showing up. Preferably with snacks. 🍎✨