Vocation


I have a dream (maybe, kinda, sorta?)

I have a dream (maybe, kinda, sorta?)

I don't have the same conviction I once did about dreams and pursuing dreams. Maybe it's just middle age.

The hidden work of nurturer, caregiver, mother, healer, and homemaker

The hidden work of nurturer, caregiver, mother, healer, and homemaker

Maybe in our openness to another's experience, to listen without selfish purpose or aim, we can make a hallow space for our common dreams, hopes and joys; fears, feelings of inadequacy, and struggles.

What I love most about Second Bloom

What I love most about Second Bloom

The wisdom, vulnerability, insight, grit and joy, of the women I interviewed for Second Bloom exceeded my expectations for this project, and they have become inspiring examples, beacons of light, helping guide the way in my own journey.

The gift of formative personal work

The gift of formative personal work

Mothering changes us. It takes us on a particular life trajectory and it also equips us with certain skills and perspectives our pre-mother selves did not possess. And we bring those with us into every other endeavour we do, including midlife career changes and vocational pursuits.

Second Bloom: transitions to new midlife vocations from mothering and homeschooling (a conversation series)

Second Bloom: transitions to new midlife vocations from mothering and homeschooling (a conversation series)

What can I learn from the stories of other women's journeys across the threshold of full time mother, homemaker and homeschooler into second half of life careers? What secrets might I glean? What wisdom or insight might I be able to apply to my own life and situation?

The point of processing

The point of processing

Two big things are happening in life right now, the kids are leaving childhood and I'm actively preparing to launch a second career. And my writing has been a tool to process both of those changes, to chart the landscape at the unknown edges of my map.

Wrapping things up

Wrapping things up

On these late summer days, as blackening red drupes weigh down the chokecherry boughs and the pears hang like pendants on the neighbor's tree, everything ripening and suspended, it feels like a holding year. Waiting for next thing to start, but knowing we won't get there till we finish this first.