When Life Paused, I listened
I returned from a six-week journey on the road. Before I left, I received a quiet message: this would be a different trip. I noted it without fully understanding.
The first weeks unfolded with ease and joy—offering sound healing events and sessions, meaningful connections, time in Michigan surrounded by women and the freedom of being on the road. Then the journey shifted and with it came the closing of a business and the responsibility of informing long-term employees that their jobs were ending. I chose to tell them myself, to hold space for their questions and their emotions.
What I unexpectedly received were stories—of leadership, fairness, and heart. A reminder that we often never fully see how our lives touch others.
Soon after, my husband, Jeff, joined me on the way back to Sedona. What had been a joyful time full of new discoveries was interrupted by an unexpected health crisis. A moment that shifted everything and brought us to a complete standstill.
The road narrowed. Life slowed. The days became about listening, waiting, loving, and staying present for Jeff through all the uncertainties. Our youngest son was with us, bearing witness to vulnerability, strength, and tenderness within our family.
A month later, I felt myself slowly returning to center.
When I stepped back into my life in Sedona—into familiar rhythms and quiet spaces that hold me—I wept. Not from fear, but from release. I realized how much I had set aside emotionally in order to keep moving forward. Slowly and gently, I began stepping back into my life and into the world of sound and breath.
Scattered emotional fragments were gently finding their place, like a puzzle nearing completion. Looking back, the range of experiences feels vast in a short amount of time—joy and sorrow, connection and disconnection, laughter and grief. This journey has integrated within, weaving itself into my body and soul.
What I do know is this: my gratitude has moved into a deeper embodiment.
Sound and breath remain my teachers. They remind me how to soften without collapsing, how to feel without being consumed, how to meet what arises and let it move through me. In offering these practices to others, I am continually brought back to myself—balanced, open, held.
As I walk forward now, my heart feels more open than it was before.
May I evolve through healing.
May I walk the path of love and understanding.
Ever changing.
Always moving.
Like breath.
Like sound.