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FIELD NOTES
Come see what we can notice.
This is where I share pieces of life as I’m actually living it.
Things I notice.
Things that make me stop.
Things that make me laugh.
Things that hurt.
Questions I’m carrying.
Moments with Mother Nature.
Things I understand now—and things I still have absolutely no fucking idea about. 😂
I won’t always have an answer.
That’s kind of the point.
Because Field Notes isn’t where I come to tell you what I know.
It’s where we practice paying attention together.
There’s No Right Place to Begin
You don’t need to start with the newest note.
You don’t need to read them in order.
And you definitely don’t need to read them all.
Look around.
Notice the photographs.
Read the titles.
See what catches your attention.
Maybe you know immediately why something pulled you in.
Maybe you don’t.
Choose it anyway.
Trust the little pull.
Start there.
These Are Real Moments
The photographs you’ll find here are mine.
They aren’t stock photographs chosen because they perfectly match something I wanted to write.
They’re things I actually stopped long enough to notice.
A tree.
The ocean.
A heart-shaped leaf.
A sunset.
Something weird growing out of concrete.
Bonnie being Bonnie. 😂
Something beautiful.
Something completely ordinary.
Something that made me think.
Something that simply made me smile.
Some photographs will be beautiful.
Some won’t.
That isn’t the point either.
The point is that for one moment, something made me stop.
I was there.
I noticed.
Sometimes I’ll Know What It Means to Me
There will be Field Notes about things I’ve already lived through.
Things I understand differently now because I’ve had some distance.
Grief.
Fear.
Loss.
Self-trust.
Boundaries.
Relationships.
Mother Nature.
Source.
Healing.
The seasons of my own life.
Sometimes I’ll be able to look backward and say:
Ohhh. Now I see it.
And I’ll share that with you.
Not because my answer should become yours.
Just because sometimes hearing someone else’s story helps us hear something inside our own.
Sometimes I Won’t Know Shit Yet
Those might be my favorite ones. 😂
Because I don’t want Field Notes to become a collection of beautifully packaged lessons written from the other side of everything.
That isn’t real life.
Sometimes I’ll write from right in the fucking middle.
I might be scared.
Confused.
Second-guessing something.
Grieving.
Changing my mind.
Trying to decide whether to move or stay still.
I may go outside looking for clarity and come back without it.
And I’m still going to tell you about that.
Because Elemental Illumination isn’t something I finished learning and now teach from the top of a mountain.
I’m practicing too.
I won’t only share what I’ve learned.
I’ll share what I’m still learning.
Maybe We Can Wonder Together
Sometimes I’ll have a question I don’t know the answer to.
Instead of waiting until I do, I might leave it here.
Not because I want you to answer it for me.
I don’t.
I’m not looking for advice.
I’m simply wondering.
And maybe you’re wondering about something similar.
So we can carry the question separately, together.
I don’t know the answer to this one either.
I’m taking it with me today.
Maybe you want to take it with you too.
Let’s see what we notice.
There is something comforting about knowing we don’t always have to arrive with answers.
Sometimes it’s enough to have a good question.
Take the Question With You
Most Field Notes will leave you with one question.
Just one.
It isn’t homework.
You don’t need to journal about it unless you want to.
You don’t need to tell me your answer.
You don’t need to figure it out before you go to bed tonight.
Just take it with you.
Let it follow you into your day.
Forget about it for a while.
Walk the dog.
Go to work.
Make dinner.
Sit outside.
Look up.
Put your feet on the ground.
Live your life.
And notice.
Maybe your answer arrives underneath a tree.
Maybe something someone says makes you stop.
Maybe you feel it in your body before you have words for it.
Maybe Mother Nature shows you something that makes you look at the question differently.
Maybe nothing happens at all.
That’s okay too.
You don’t have to chase the answer.
Just notice what shows up.
Not Everything Here Will Be Deep
Thank Source. 😂
Because noticing isn’t only something we practice when life is hard.
It’s also how we catch ourselves living.
So yes, there will be grief here.
There will be fear.
There will be hard fucking days.
And there will also be birds chirping outside my window that sound ridiculously happy.
A flower I’ve never seen before.
Bonnie doing something hilarious.
A heart-shaped rock.
An incredible sunset.
A weird bug.
A cool fucking mushroom. 🍄😂
Maybe absolutely nothing profound happens.
Maybe something simply makes me happy enough to stop and notice it.
That matters too.
Joy doesn’t need a lesson attached to it to belong here.
The Bonus
Sometimes when we pay attention, we find something we weren’t looking for.
A heart in a leaf.
A rock shaped strangely enough to make us stop.
A bird we’ve never seen before.
Something tiny and beautiful hiding in plain sight.
I call that the bonus.
Not everything has to be a sign.
Not everything needs a spiritual interpretation.
Sometimes a cool rock is just a cool fucking rock. 😂
And sometimes the reward for paying attention is simply discovering something beautiful we would have otherwise missed.
Bonus.
You Don’t Have to Share
Field Notes isn’t a comment section.
I’m not sharing vulnerable pieces of my life because I need you to solve them for me.
And you don’t need to tell me what a question brings up for you.
That experience can belong entirely to you.
There’s something sacred about that.
You read.
You take what speaks to you.
You leave what doesn’t.
And then you go live your life.
Field Notes holds the question.
Community holds the conversation.
You Might Find Yourself Here
Maybe you open a Field Note about grief and recognize something you’ve never been able to put into words.
Maybe you choose one because the photograph is beautiful and somehow end up thinking about a boundary you need.
Maybe something makes you laugh.
Maybe a question follows you around for three days.
Maybe you read something I’m struggling with and think:
Oh. She’s figuring this shit out too.
I hope you do.
Because I am.
We all are.
And maybe knowing that gives you a little permission to stop expecting yourself to have everything figured out too.
This Is What We’re Practicing
I share what I notice.
You notice what catches your attention.
Maybe I leave you with a question.
You carry it into your own life.
And then?
You notice.
Not because I told you what you were supposed to find.
Not because there is one correct answer waiting somewhere.
But because you became present enough to hear yourself.
That’s the practice.
And over time, maybe something else happens.
You begin noticing Mother Nature.
Then your feelings.
Your body.
Your needs.
Your boundaries.
Your joy.
Your strength.
Your intuition.
You.
Come See What We Can Notice
You don’t have to read everything here.
You don’t have to understand why something catches your attention.
And you certainly don’t have to leave with an answer.
Look around.
Choose what pulls you.
Take the question if you want it.
Leave it if you don’t.
Come back whenever you need to.
There will be something new eventually.
Not because I have a fucking content calendar telling me it’s Tuesday. 😂
Because I noticed something.
And maybe next time, you will too.
We may never meet.
We may be carrying completely different questions.
We may look at the same tree and see two entirely different things.
That’s okay.
We don’t have to notice the same things to notice together.
Maybe that’s part of belonging too.
Knowing there are other people out there paying attention.
Learning.
Questioning.
Laughing.
Grieving.
Growing.
Trying again.
And figuring this shit out right alongside you.
So look around.
See what catches your attention.
And start there.
You’re already part of this.
Welcome home.
