Why This Exists:
If the Grove is where I plant and tend to ideas before sharing them, then this space—the Workshop—is where I want to unroll the blueprints, spread out amongst the scattered tools, and work through the process as it unfolds–and invite you to come along and see what’s growing inside me before the harvest even begins (too heavy on the analogies? Oh well).
I’m inviting you here—not to a polished display—but to the drafting table itself. A space for explorations, raw reflections, and mapping.
I’ve realized that while some stories need time to blossom and be shared as completed arrangements, I still want the others to be witnessed midway through the making. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m not that private of a person with my processes. I don’t mind being open (at least more open than the extent to which I think others may default). I believe there’s enough life and love and lessons to go around. Besides, I want my legacy (if I leave one) to be that I invited everyone to come along with me, so they can have hope and hold compassion in their own workshops.
That said, though, should you choose to engage in this space, I do ask for you to approach my workshop with the same loose hold on the concepts I carry regarding things which I’m exploring, experimenting, and announcing–I’m a work in progress, meaning I too have to extend grace to myself for the in-betweens.
Why Now:
In my first post reviving this blog, I wrote about cultivating a “Life Notes Grove” to gather the lessons, patterns, and quiet whispers that life has been weaving through me. And all along, there’s been another voice that compels me: “Don’t just tend the garden—reveal the process of how you work with the soil.”
Because the truth is, some of the most meaningful growth happens when I acknowledge the moments that occur on the way through to the result, when Parts of me are sitting at the edge of the workshop table asking, “What’s next?”
What You’ll Find Here:
This space is process-forward. Less about “here’s the answer,” and more about “here’s what I’m noticing.”
It’s:
- The sketches on the backs of napkins.
- The dialogues I’m having with the Parts within me.
- The body’s quiet wisdom when words haven’t arrived yet.
- The patterns I’m spotting but haven’t fully decoded.
Some days, you may drop in as if you’re sitting next to me mid-sorting session—witnessing the discomfort of questions still unanswered. Other days, you might be observing me tediously piecing together moments of integration and coming to a “next steps” point.
Here’s what I hope for you as you read along:
That you don’t just see me here, but you maybe see part of yourself too. That you might recognize your own scattered and uncharted maps, your own inner dialogues, your own version of this workshop—be it messy, wondrous, or both. That we will offer grace to the both of us for meeting in the works.
So whether you’re someone who loves mapping your Parts, working through somatic awareness, curating your own guidebook from others’ experiences, or simply witnessing the beauty in someone else’s process—I hope this becomes a soft invitation to sit in the midst of this liminal space between ideation and completion.
For now, I’ll pause here.
Stand up. Stretch high. Reach low. Turn around.
Exhale out fully. Let air in gently.
There’s more to build, more to notice, and always more to tend to.
But for now, welcome to the Workshop.
