Nature

I’ve been doing this the last few weeks and it’s definitely improved my sleep 😴

Any tips on how to start learning how to roller skate?! 🛼 Trying to broaden my horizons 😳

What a beautiful giant tree

What archetypes are overactivated or suppressed in you? I’ve been diving into the work of Carl Jung and doing some real shadow work lately. Not the pretty kind—the honest kind. Looking at who I actually am vs. who I’ve been comfortable being. I’m starting to notice which archetypes I live in… and which ones I’ve buried. Quick breakdown: Innocent (hopeful), Seeker (searching), Sage (wisdom), Everyman (belonging), Lover (connection), Jester (play), Hero (courage), Outlaw (rebel), Magician (transformation), Caregiver (nurturing), Ruler (control), Creator (expression), Mother/Father (guidance), Child (vulnerability), Trickster (disruption), Warrior (boundaries), Orphan (grief), Mystic (spirituality). If I’m being real… Overactivated: Caregiver, Mystic, Creator, Lover, Seeker → I feel deeply, give a lot, search for meaning, and try to create connection out of everything Suppressed: Ruler, Warrior, Outlaw, Jester → structure, boundaries, power, play… harder for me → I soften too much, overgive, stay in depth instead of stepping into authority or lightness And then there’s the Shadow—anger, control, selfishness, instinct. The parts I was taught weren’t acceptable… but are actually necessary. I’m realizing this isn’t about becoming one archetype. It’s about integrating all of them. Becoming whole. So I’m curious— Which archetypes feel strongest in you? And which ones are hiding in your shadow? 👇

“I can create safety, piece by piece” 🪺🕊️

Waiting for Spring flowers 💐

I love nature metaphors. Today I’m contemplating the waterfall. Trauma can feel like standing under a powerful waterfall that never shuts off. It’s loud. It’s constant. It hits you so hard you can’t think straight, can’t breathe, can’t orient. And after a while, your body just… adapts. You tense up. You brace. You live like that pressure is normal. Even when the waterfall isn’t there anymore, your nervous system still thinks it is. So you either avoid anything that feels like “too much”… or you keep putting yourself back under it, trying to prove you can handle it this time. Healing, for me, hasn’t been about forcing myself to stand in the intensity. It’s been about stepping out of it. Learning what calm actually feels like. Letting my body realize it’s not under attack anymore. Letting emotions move through me like water instead of crashing down all at once. You don’t have to live under the waterfall forever. You can step to the side. Sit by the water. Feel it without it drowning you. And slowly, your body starts to believe you’re safe again.

Trauma can make you go inward. At some point, it was safer to be in your head than in the world. So you built something internal—rich, deep, imaginative. You learned how to self-soothe, analyze, escape, survive. And there’s nothing wrong with that. That inner world probably saved you. But over time, it can become a cave. You start living more inside your thoughts than in your actual life. You isolate. You overthink instead of reaching out. You convince yourself you’re fine handling everything alone. And slowly… you disappear a little. Stepping out of the cave doesn’t have to be dramatic. It’s small, uncomfortable, real-world actions: Text someone you’ve been thinking about but haven’t reached out to. Tell someone you trust, directly, “I could use some support right now.” Let yourself be seen, even just a little. Say yes to something instead of automatically withdrawing. Spend time around people without performing—just exist. You don’t have to abandon your inner world. Just don’t let it be the only place you live.