Field Notes

Some years the fog takes it. That year it didn't.

For over a week I didn't get off the floor. Yesterday the warnings were mostly gone. So I went to the creek.

Some things you sell. Some things wait.

Sometimes the smallest acts of motion become our greatest victories.

Sleep better, eat better, move more. Keep the fire going.

What recovery means when chronic illness stays, but your relationship to it transforms.

Sometimes, it's about allowing ourselves to simply be.

I didn’t always notice the bloom - but now I wait for it like a promise.

Three straight days pushing hard on steep trails. Day four hit like payment due. Living fully with chronic illness means choosing aliveness — and paying for it.