Hiding in Plain Sight: Murmurs Among the Roots
Even in the quiet of a winter garden, life stirs beneath the surface. A reflective meditation on noticing hidden signals, subtle currents, and the aliveness of things hiding in plain sight.
Even in the quiet of a winter garden, life stirs beneath the surface. A reflective meditation on noticing hidden signals, subtle currents, and the aliveness of things hiding in plain sight.
Explore the meaning of winter solstice through garden wisdom, ancient tradition, and the Big Dark—a meditation on rest, threshold, and promise.
Rethink positive thinking, toxic positivity, and manifestation. Explore intention practice and mindful approaches beyond the Law of Attraction.
As autumn turns, the human instinct turns to nesting and laying roots—an exploration of our ancient instinct to create spaces of belonging and home.
Learn from Olive, an aging hen, about chicken care, the peaceful end-of-life process of quieting, and life lessons in her final days in the backyard flock.
Seattle’s T-Mobile Park, the Electric Factory, pulsed with magic as the Mariners finally reaped the harvest of years of patience. Cal Raleigh’s record-breaking home runs and the collective energy of fans made this September night feel like long-sown seeds coming to harvest.
Seed stories, living archives, and those who preserve stories: a reflective meditation on librarians, archivists, and the gardens that preserve our stories in soil and soul across time.
It’s been a quiet week here, full of writing and reflection. Five chapters took shape during a hurricane along the Atlantic, an insistence to stay in and work on the novel. A small haiku surfaced along the way.
A poetic meditation on caregiving and memory, exploring the liminal space between forgetting and remembering. Through sensory detail and fractured time, this deeply personal reflection reveals how identity persists in the body—and how love lives in the moments in between.
Guest author Walker Lee shares a tender excerpt from The Prose of My Neurosis. Surrounded by orchids in all stages of life, he reflects on fragility, persistence, and the beauty of truth.
Before the novel, before the blog post, before the paint hits the wall—there’s the circling, the clearing, the setup. Maybe that’s the point.
Some things look fine—until you try to move them. This gentle meditation explores what rootbound plants can teach us about boundaries, growth, and making space to breathe.
Three tiny chicks arrived last night, filling the house with curious peeps and soft wings. Their playful discovery and slow becoming remind me that every season starts with hope and wonder.
We chase happiness like a destination. What we’re really chasing is relief, contrast, and the feeling of truly being alive.
Even your best efforts in the garden can end in chaos—and sometimes, that’s exactly where the learning begins. In this personal story of chickens, sweet potatoes, and resilience, I explore the beauty of failing forward and the quiet wisdom we grow when things don’t go as planned.
The Evergreen Inkwell is officially open! A quiet corner for creativity, mindfulness, and small wonders — now ready to grow. Whether you’re here for the tea gardens, the creative process, or simply to pause for a moment, you’re warmly invited in. Today feels like a new beginning — and I’m so glad you’re here.
A reflective musing on how grief and memory shape the creative process — a writer’s journey through loss, healing, and self-discovery.
Art, at its root, is a conversation — between the maker and the world, between the moment and the memory, between me and you. To write is to open a channel. To distill moods, ideas, longing, and joy into something you, the reader, can hold. Can translate. Can maybe even feel in your own bones.