We all have a story. Mine started in 1966 when I became the fifth and final member of my precious family. I was welcomed and adored like the new puppy, which laid an early foundation of trust and love. This fortuitous gift has served me well in my hardest moments.

Finding my way has often been an instinctive process. The assurance of best-laid plans, guarantees and stability were traded in for spontaneous adventures, transformative moments, and living in agreement with my heart. My experiences have taken me on some fantastical rides, and into the depths of my greatest fears - all of them crucial in order to guide me back to the unknown path of love. Falling further and further into the expansiveness of love has always called to me, but it has been the furthest thing from carefree and easy. From what I’ve gathered we are all called to this path, albeit through different circumstances, to remember that Love is our inherent identity.

There’s nothing that returns me home to my essential identity quite like meditation. My (instinctive) practice looks like a walk in nature, being in, and around water, listening and dancing to music, moon gazing, creating art, and words, and being aware of my breath as much as I am unaware of my breath.

Meditation is inherently who we are, and as instinctive as breathing. I want you to remember your true home lives within your heart, and the greatest act of love we can offer another must first be given to ourselves.