during my twentysomething years, i traipsed through a nebulous swirl of existential angst.
it was a confusing time because i had followed my dream and moved to los angeles to pursue a career in acting...yet i was deeply unhappy as an artist.
living in a thriving metropolis while navigating the twists and turns of an inner shift was difficult for me.
so from time to time, i escaped.
accompanied by my guitar, my journal, and a bag full of art supplies, i would jump in the car and head off into the mountains...
although i occasionally camped, my landing spot was almost always a beautiful inn, cottage, or bed and breakfast.
into a cozy little nook i would go, retreating from the chaos of nine million people and making space for my own voice to be heard.
this was such an important practice for me. it helped me find my way to where i am now.
last night i realized this: i loved my ritual so much, i made an inn of my own.
and here we are.
now i am full of wonder about you: do you have a retreat or a ritual which assists you in untangling the threads of your story?