As the world awakens from its winter slumber and the air fills with a sense of renewal, there's no better time to embark on the ultimate spring reset for your home. Whether you live in an apartment in Des Moines, IA or a rental home in Portland, OR, and are looking to incorporate fresh florals, tidy your home, or embrace a new color palette, we’ve got you covered. For those in search of inspiration, check out this ApartmentGuide article we were featured in for 9 Steps to Refresh Your Home This Spring For the Ultimate Reset.

Time itself is a mother of a concept to imagine, literally and figuratively. Between the abstract and the everyday, the quantum and the deadlines, the stillness and the urgency, we tend to just look at what’s next on our calendar and *maybe* see if we can squeeze in a meditation or a moment of stillness.

I wrote what I didn’t realize would be a love poem, what I didn’t realize would help me redefine the erotic, what I didn’t realize could be so healing…

The other night, Daniel Johnston’s “True Love Will Find You in the End” came up on my Spotify, and I was IMMERSED. This song has been covered by many artists including Beck, Wilco, The Flaming Lips, Crybaby, and Headless Heroes.

I just started playing the song while I’m writing now because I love to cry when I write (lolsob).

“What was your first memory of self-judgment?” the healer asked. The answer came to me so quickly. I was in Sedona, AZ for a retreat when I was received this question. I sat in a circle with three other people and the healer. He worked with us one-on-one, and I was last. After witnessing his power and intuition with the others, I was excited, but a bit scared, about what he had for me.

It’s no surprise that two of the most cited books about trauma and healing, The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel Van Der Kolk and My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem, have references to the body in their title.

My myth begins with reflection of ritual, family, and the land through my story. I’ve shifted from not having an altar to creating my own. From having no daily ritual to feeling “off” if I didn’t remember to revere my ancestors, and myself, in the morning.

I have new grief. My dad died 10 years ago today in his ancestral home of India. Ten years later, my tears escalate when I think of his sudden death. This new grief surprises me, and it reminds me that my healing story is a love story.

My healing story is a love story, and, really, so is everyone’s. I love to think about it in this way because it show how, at the core, there is always love in the bell of humanity: love for ourselves, love for others, love of the Earth, even when it doesn’t seem like it.

Welcome to my new blog: Your Healing Story is a Love Story…

Can you just sit with this blog name for a moment? How does this name feel in your heart? Your bones? Your flesh?