Edit: This was originally written on 4/5/2026. I hesitated on sharing because I was feeling raw.
There are times that I question my role when we have real issues at hand. But then I think about the deployed clients whose album provided life line to home…or those whose photos are daily reminders of what they have to look forward to.
Joy and pleasure in times of crisis feels guilty until you realize it’s just be the inner compass you need to navigate you back to the center of yourself, beyond the bullshit.
Those gut and primal instincts can be the spaces to tap into when the headspace feels unclear and uncertain.
I don’t know how anybody is carrying on and existing as if we are in normal times. I spent the morning coordinating escape routes with my family in the event of nuclear fallout. Things I didn’t plan on doing two months ago…but now here we are.
I could breathe again when I learned about taco extending. Two weeks…two weeks…two weeks…
I know the peace is temporary. The world is literally on fire and I just want to work…
Hampton Roads is predominantly military and federal workers. Between shutdowns and furloughs and war, these last six months have felt like walking on a tightrope. I feel it. I hear it in every consult call. I know it’s my space to provide an escape from it all. But I have to acknowledge how it impacts me.
I spend a lot of time talking to clients on consults as they process the realities of world events. Then I find myself working through my own inner workings as they relate. Now I am sitting here being forced to acknowledge it also.
When I left home at 17, I just left. I never processed a lot of what I experienced. Survival meant escape. Now as an adult committed to breaking generational cycles, I find myself reparenting each part of me that I needed. I didn’t realize this was a part of the process 😅 Each stage that my kids experience has me revisiting and uncovering and reworking in the ways that I wish I had done for me.
I thought I had handled the past. I realize I just packed up and left. The real work is not letting these experiences hijack my focus.
The war and resulting last minute deployments have taken its toll on our community. As a military brat whose father was deployed to war when I was born, and throughout my life, this hit me way harder than I expected. Seeing the service members returning home in caskets sent me into a spiral. The cost of war is real. It is felt in ripples. A day of planned tasks gets sidelined as I work to contain my own flashbacks. While I don’t go to war, it was brought home to us.
The amount of rage I have within me needs a place. Anger is a gift, right? All I can do is keep my hands busy.
I decided to redo the piping on our rain room. Between our upcoming April Shower sessions, and the way we have been using the Rain Room more and more, I figured it was time.
I had reached out to several plumbers and didn’t hear back. I don’t know if the job sounded silly, but explaining the concept and looking for quotes left me with nothing. I spent the week running between Lowe’s and Home Depot. It took a couple of attempts and failures to find the right materials and fittings that wouldn’t leak. I feel so accomplished looking at the results.
Stepping into the new rain room was a far less chaotic experience. The water comes down so easily and there are spaces where I can move freely without water. I am obsessed with how GOOOOD the water feels on my skin. I didn’t want to get out. I was just at peace in a way that I desperately needed.
It was the most refreshing experience. I stopped thinking and started moving. I was able to just surrender to the physical experience of water splashing on me.
It was a little distraction that led to a lot of inspiration. I feel like I’ve unlocked a new skill that I just know will come in handy.
I cannot control the storms…but at least in my domain, I can control the rain.
April 17, 2026
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