There’s something grounding about gardening. The soil under your nails, the quiet rhythms of tending to something that grows over time—it’s a place where being present feels effortless (if you have a green thumb that is). And funny enough, it’s in those quiet moments among the dirt, mulch and flowers that I find some of the clearest insights about how we communicate with each other.

Here’s one I’ve been saying for years: We are all 360-degree people.

We are full spectrum, layered individuals with different dimensions that come forward depending on where we are and who we’re with. That’s not inauthenticity—it’s adaptability. It’s presence. And it’s human.

The Right Tools for the Soil You’re In

Imagine this: you wear a three-piece suit to work every day. It’s tailored, intentional, and reflects a version of you that is powerful and polished. Now picture wearing that same suit to pull weeds and prune your backyard hydrangeas. Makes no sense, right? You’d ruin the suit—and honest...

A New Way to See Growth

There’s a moment in every seeker’s journey—maybe even a dozen of them—where the question creeps in: “Why do I still need so much input?”

Why am I still reading, still attending, still consuming… still trying to fix something?

Here’s the honest (and slightly uncomfortable) truth: you’re always going to crave input. You’re always going to be curious, reaching for the next insight, the next tool, the next piece of clarity.

And here’s why that’s not a problem.

You’re Not Broken—You’re Wired This Way

You’re not endlessly seeking because you’re broken. You’re seeking because you’re built for growth. You have a mind that’s wired for inquiry—a deep, organic curiosity that fuels your evolution.

The shift?

It’s in how you contextualize that drive.

In the past, you may have unconsciously framed it like this: “I need to learn more because something’s wrong with me.”  Or “I don’t know enough.”

Now, it’s time to rewrite that narrative:

“I’m committed to growing...

Most of us instinctively avoid friction, steering clear of the discomfort it brings. It’s natural to want smooth, effortless interactions and harmonious relationships. And that is not always possible. What if I told you that friction is actually a gift, a powerful indicator that can reveal crucial insights about ourselves? I love friction, because of what it tells me about my own inner world and what’s important to me not because I relish discomfort (although I’ve been told I am really good at having tough conversations – if you need help with this reach out, I’m always up for a challenge).

Friction as a Signal of Bigger Aspirations

Think back to a recent situation where you felt frustrated—perhaps at work, with a team member, or even in a personal relationship. That discomfort you felt wasn’t random; it was a signal from within. Friction often arises when there’s a gap between our current reality and a deeper, unfulfilled aspiration. It’s our inner compass pointing out that somet...