New Year, Same Dislike for Bullet Journals (and Crafts! *gasp*)

And just like that, it’s February! Now that the excitement of resolutions has come to settle, I can truly reflect on some things. Like how terrible I am at crafts and why you shouldn’t let me anywhere near scissors. Read on for more!


Here is the thing about me: Sometimes I jump right into projects or go all in, particularly when it comes to something I think I’ll really like or will make my life easier. So when bullet journaling came along, I boarded that train real quick. Many thanks to this blogger——->How to Bullet Journal: The Absolute, Ultimate Guide. (And shoutout to you by the way!! You rock and I often wish I could stick to such methods of organization.) I suggest you check it out but the main point is you’re basically creating a journal/to-do list/planner. You customize it to feel however you want. People use it to track goals and tidbits they wish to remember. You might cross off an item once completed or use your own legend for what each one means. It’s pretty neat. I was so excited and picked out a journal from Ross, only to find out about three months in, after decorating my journal and building up all this momentum, that the journal slowly began collecting dust on my bookshelf. The journal and I would often get into staring competitions. (Spoiler: I usually won because said journal is not filled with magic, like I so often yearn for in many parts of my life.) And as I stared and wondered why I could never grasp that beauteous component of life that many others seemed to make look so easy, it dawned on me. That woman isn’t me. 

You won’t find me up late in the evening creating cookies straight out of a Christmas movie, complete with elves, reindeer and Mrs. Clause. I can’t make presents look Pinterest-perfect for the life of me. Cutting straight edges on paper literally terrifies me. I’m not very good at color coordinating. I know absolutely nothing about knitting. I may try to tackle too many projects at once. My handwriting isn’t amazing and sometimes it’s crooked. I buy pretty pens and lose them not long afterwards. I have to make lists because I’m forgetful and excel at procrastination. My craft box mostly became a storage space for mementos and Christmas cards that were never sent. All of this to say that doesn’t mean I won’t create. I love making things from the heart, especially in the form of words. Writing is my happy space and fun poems make me feel like a kid. I’ve made a few things in the day. Oh, and I guess the point of this was that when I attempted to bullet journal….I began to hate bullet journaling. Which seems rather silly.


You know where you will find me? Probably reading. Maybe wandering around a bookstore, hoping there is enough time in this life to read everything on my list. Or having a glass of wine with friends. I even make wine on occassion. And now that I am finally beginning to find my mojo again, after bouts of anxiety and health issues are slowly coming to (hopefully) somewhat of an end, you can find me writing. And making my blog better. Coming up with 1,001 ideas of how I want to shape my future and making them a reality. After reading Year of Yes (please read this as soon as you can, you must) by Shonda Rhimes, I am all kinds of fired up. She said something I am making part of my magical 2018. “Ditch the dream. Be a doer, not a dreamer.”

In this time period, I realized I wanted to say yes only to that which brought me joy. Crafting is very much not on that list. So in that knowledge, bullet journaling fell into the realm of “What I’m Not Good At.”  I have a hard enough time remembering to write in my planner. But at least in that area of my life, it doesn’t feel forced.  I bought a super cute one (again from Ross!) for $10 and fill it with what I need (or hope) to accomplish. It’s straightforward and it’s me, no frills. (Pictured below: Then and now.)

It takes all kinds friends. Some of us can do the Pinterest and the crafting. I envy you. Seriously, coming to terms with being this woman when you are surrounded by many crafty types was not an easy task. From the sister who makes gifts look #flawless and has created some stellar wreaths to my co-worker who bakes like no other. To my graphic design friends with magnificent handwriting and artsy abilities I could only dream of. To those I know with kids who make their homes and lives look like something straight off of HGTV. You are all creative goddesses and I love each one of you.


But here, in this knowledge of who I am, I have found contentment. I do not discount what I bring to the table. I shine in my elements of positivity and togetherness. Of seeking the good and knowing people are capable of change. Of quietly observing but speaking up when I need to. And finally, of knowing my words hold weight. That from one of the very first stories I made in the second grade about a kitten’s magical journey (honest to goodness truth) to where I am at today, I’m not finished. That writing is my own personal crafting party and that is enough.  I may not have created the masterpiece I’m striving for just yet but I have also not stopped working towards it. Do YOUR thing and know that’s enough. If crafts make you cringe, don’t shy away from it. In fact, we could probably be friends.

Feeling Grateful Friday – 11.3.17

Hey friends! Long time, no words. Every now and then I like to do this thing where I list what I’m grateful for. After all, that’s what I’m all about here at Exhale Gratitude. On this lovely 3rd day of November, here’s what’s got me feeling all sorts of grateful.

  • MY GUY – (Heads up! This is a little sappy. :))There really is something to be said for falling in love with your best friend. I took a trip out to Michigan to see him this past week and it was perfect. Not perfect in the sense that everything went perfectly or we didn’t have disagreements. But perfect in the sense that no matter what, he values communication and keeping that dialogue at the forefront of our relationship. I’ve never had that before and unhealthy pasts create unhealthy habits until they are broken. He has shown me that and so much more. Discussions on our hometown, old friends and where we went to school but also knowing that despite everything we’ve seen each other through, we strive to show the other how much we care. I’m the happiest girl because I have realized a great deal about standing on my own outside the confines of a relationship, as well as what a man and partner looks like.
  • NEW ROUTINES – Ok, so this has only started TODAY but I’m holding myself to taking morning walks in my neighborhood at least 3 times a week. If you know me at all, you know that the cold weather and I do not get along. Being cold is right up there with the texture of coconut and pulpy orange juice. That being said, I will 100% not enjoy being stuck inside ALL winter. So, I’m bundling up, tuning into a Podcast/Audiobook and seeking a change in scenery. It felt really good. I even found a free little library nearby! The tiniest deviations from our normal routines can often bring the most simple displays of happiness.


  • GETTING BACK TO YOU (ME) – I’ve been stuck and it’s been unbearable at times. Awful anxiety and trying to figure out why. After some tests, discussions with people who love me, and serious introspection, I truly feel like I’m coming back around. Just like the seasons of nature, we too burrow away at times. Our leaves fall as we change into something new for the spring. It can be subtle or it can be a bit more prominent. Our bodies are super smart and when we haven’t dealt with something, it plays out in different ways. There is nothing wrong with admitting when we are struggling. In fact, it needs to be done more than it is. We are human and with that comes facets that we are still trying to understand. Be kind to yourself in your journey and lean on those who love you most.

I wish you all a beautiful weekend filled with gratitude for whatever is igniting you right now, even the smallest moments that are pulling you through what you may be facing. Wishing you lots of love and goodness.


This is Where I Hold You

I walked into the spa that day in August, with the intent of purchasing a gift certificate for my roommate but leaving with more. You asked where I would be spending my vacation and as the topic of Michigan came up, I felt something wasn’t right. You barely knew me so crying in front of a stranger seemed impossible and yet you did. Would I judge you? Would I find the situation uncomfortable? The words kept bubbling out and between the subject change and tone of voice, I saw it unraveling. You had recently lost your dad and were visiting back home to attend his funeral or wrap up loose ends, the details too difficult to discuss.

As we went through the motions, I wanted to tell you more than I did and I’m sorry if my approach showed uncertainity. As I turned to leave I said, “I’m so sorry about your dad. I lost my mom to cancer a couple years ago. I know how hard it is, especially during the initial part of it all.” And in that sharing of grief, I was unsure. Everyone manages it uniquely and I wasn’t wanting to push too far. You walked out from behind the counter and….you hugged me. In your hurt you gave more, telling me I was a sweetheart and thanking me for stopping in. I felt the depth of your beautiful soul in that instance.

It wasn’t the right time but through all of this I wanted to let you know that it came full circle. You see, I was in the airport when I found out my mom had passed away while on the way to the hospital. I could hardly collect myself to purchase tissues from the airport store, with what felt like puddles of tears forming beneath me as I hurried away from the cashier asking me what was wrong. I didn’t want to talk. Or think. Or breathe. Or feel. The rug had been ripped from underneath me and how dare anyone try to make sense of that. And as I was standing in line to board the plane back home, she came over to me, with an intent so pure that I could only be kind. She asked if I needed a hug and in her simple inquiry as to why I was hurting, I poured out my story. About losing my mom and the cancer.

Did you know that she knew? That Anna Rose read the tears blending into the freckles as someone who needed a crutch, however briefly? For all the onlookers and strangers hurrying by, this one high-school aged girl traveling back to Washington gave me just enough strength for the plane ride home. It was March when I lost my mom and Anna had only lost her 13-year old sister to a car crash that December. She hugged me. She prayed for me and my family during the flight. And she waited for me when we deplaned, just to make sure I was alright. For every loss there is a lifting, someone who was placed in our lives as the tiniest glimmer of light in unending darkness.


Age, sex, gender, religion – None of that matters when it comes to pain. We share those burdens, those that we wish we’d never been chosen to carry.

This is where I hold you. Where I carry your hurt inside of mine, reminding you that even though it isn’t going anywhere soon, time and kindness will assist in tucking it away. It will be secure and ever-present, the explanations to strangers becoming easier and perhaps, one day, you will walk someone else through a hurt of their own.


Potholes & Moving Forward

Awhile back, I took a day trip and went exploring with some friends. We visited northeastern Washington, toured a cave and even popped up to Canada for a bit. It was great to reconnect with this gorgeous state and its surroundings!! While my friend insisted that I write about how much money I save on food, drinks, etc. by being petite, I decided to go with a different route. Shout out to her creative ideas though! And, who knows, it has the potential for a future post. 🙂

As you may have noticed, Exhale Gratitude took a brief hiatus. I wish I could say it was for something really cool but it wasn’t. Mostly just me attempting to find the correct combination for how to do this life thing best. The balance between work, writing and school. I’ll be honest, I was in a bit of a funk there. But, we are back! On that note, I’m still figuring out if Sunday works best for new post release dates and am thinking of switching back to Friday. For now, we’ll just strive for weekly and call it a day.

Driving with me can be an…..interesting experience. I promise to keep you safe but it will be a bit more exciting along the way. Exciting as in I have a tendency to hit nearly every pothole, rock, and whatever else we may encounter. It isn’t done on purpose and while I make an effort to avoid them at times, my driving aligns with my personality for the most part. (And no, that term is not reckless.) 🙂

During the course of our trip (and many other times she drives with me), my friend, Saraa, commented on my lack of avoidance of obstacles within the road. She probably expects it now and can be reassured that no pothole will go unexplored. (Sorry Felix!!! <—–That’s my car.) I slow down and since I drive in Spokane quite often, I now know where most of the potholes are.

I am conscious of where I’m going but also so enthralled by the people I’m with and the situations surrounding me. In celebration of the fullness of this life, I am wanting to drink in each moment I can. This is very much how I live day-to-day, as well as how I set out at accomplishing goals. It might not always look clear and maybe it gets messy at times because of that. Yet, I always end up at my destination, with endless possibilities still before me. And the thing of it is, I don’t wish that I was any different. (I do need to be more careful perhaps in regards to avoiding the potholes situation. Poor Felix.) I charge forward. I keep going, despite the obstacles.


Reminding myself of this is incredibly important to me, as I am going through some life-changing transitions at the moment. Where plans I originally had are needing to shift and I’m in the exciting, albeit frightening, phase of immense change. Felix and I are not completely broken but sometimes we hit bumps throughout our journey. And while I don’t know the first thing about cars, I know others who do. When the potholes of my life become too much and I need a little work, I reach out. In my faith and personal life, I admit when I am not operating at 100%, whether it’s because I have worn myself down, feel overwhelmed, or am returning to the same old patterns.


So yes, I took a longer than a month hiatus and on that note I’m going to be real honest, July sucked a lot. But then, I can’t help but think that this post is launching at precisely the right time. I’ve hit some potholes and man-oh-man do I feel stuck. At first it felt unfair and now, wading the quicksand of disappointment, I am only emerging stronger. The potholes, obstacles, and sucky parts of life will always be there. You can slow down and take them real carefully, but they are unavoidable. It’s gonna get bad and then it’s gonna get real good again. There isn’t some secret sauce so if that’s what you were looking for, no recipe here. People and perseverance are what make the bad parts better. Those potholes sure can sneak up on you so buckle in, bring your peeps, and prepare for the ride.


The crew

Quiet Strength & Boat Docks

This past weekend, I was lucky enough to spend time in beautiful Trout Creek, Montana. What an opportunity for a previous Montana girl! I was thrilled to be in a gorgeous setting surrounded by people who have done nothing but bless me since I’ve known them. It was refreshing to be somewhat off the grid while being in such a space that allowed me to recharge and focus on getting back to what is truly important in this life. I take sole responsibility for the fact that there was no post last week but am also owning up to the fact that this life is meant to be enjoyed. I’ve also come to the conclusion that one post I’m proud of and took time to write is better than two hurried posts in one week. All about balance friends. 🙂

A short walk from our cabin (and I mean merely steps), was a dock. On my last evening in Montana, I headed for the dock, book in hand and fully ready for peace. While I was laying there, with the sun dancing out at me whenever the clouds fancied moving out of the way, I was content. As the dock gently held me, I listened to the water swishing against the sides of it and felt such stillness. Between all going on in my life, these moments are rare for me. I become contemplative and exceedingly grateful whenever I am lucky enough to have such experiences.

IMG_20170602_154334612Towards the end of my Montana weekend, I had heard this word, “quiet strength,” used in reference to me. I didn’t know that I had entirely believed it at first but the more I allowed myself to accept love not only from others but also myself, the more I realized it might not be so crazy after all.

When the waves and water are crashing up against the side of the dock, it remains strong and in place. It might sway a bit with the forces of nature going on around it but will continue to stand firmly. I have been pushed along and nearly faltered at times, yet this reserve of strength within keeps me going. It was never about whether the dock moved when situations were uncertain or trying. But rather, the fact that it was able to hold itself up no matter what came at it. Even supporting others in the process at times. What is below the surface when the world is doing its very best to drag us down is the source of something incredibly great.

Our unique characteristics and personalities are not to be shied away from. Each of us exudes our strength differently and perhaps, some are still on the journey to find what that looks like. After the passing of my mom and the events that followed, I began to see how clearly defined my strength really was. It didn’t look like my sister’s, my mom’s or even the woman next to me. It was divinely my own. How I performed under pressure, the choices I made in the aftermath of hurt and seeking to focus on being the very best me I can, no matter what. Looking back, I was shaken and life crashed down on me hard. The waves still rock me, reminding me of the fragility of it all and to take nothing for granted.  One of the absolute best take-aways from these past couple of years is to finally know me. To stand with my head held high in the face of conflict, to admit when I am wrong and to accept others with the same grace I ask for. I am blessed to walk in that knowledge each day. To face the woman in the mirror with 100% confidence and say, “Quiet strength is anything but weak. You are fierce. You are mighty. You are enough.”


Paper Boats & Forgiveness

You know those moments where you are in the middle of a terrible mistake? Where you are internally fighting to rectify it but externally frozen? In some way, we are halted, and the gravity of our decision is felt in the aftermath. Recently, this was me. And while I cannot go into details because of parties involved, just know that it sucked. It sucked knowing that in a split second, because of a momentary lapse in judgement, I made a left instead of a right. For the girl who spends her whole life making right turns, going the other direction felt highly uncomfortable.

So, there I was, in the middle of my mess. For somebody who talks an awful lot about grace, you’d think self-forgiveness would be something I’d be better at. I’m here to tell you that forgiving myself is a skill I have yet to refine. Among my other traits, I am a perfectionist. Because of my positions in both of my jobs, I take my responsibilities extremely serious, even in situations where the responsibility wasn’t mine in the first place. I forget that we each must be held accountable for our mistakes, that I cannot carry the weight of another’s decision as my own. Perhaps it is being the oldest or the way life played out that causes me to perceive the world this way. Of that part I am uncertain but I do know that falling is hard on me.



When I fail, when I don’t get it right, or when I make the wrong decision, I most likely carry that for longer than needed. I wish I could turn that part off or find a way of extending that same grace that I offer to others to myself. Instead, I think. I am an over-thinker who has a whole lot of feelings so that can create grand stories in my head as to how I could have done better or why I made a mistake in the first place. It is not an ideal environment for recovering from a setback.

12698394_10153464610623763_2523441078320941151_oAll wounds, even those we created, need to heal. Our lapses in judgement need a second look from a specialist to figure out why. When our car suddenly goes the wrong way, we take it to the mechanic to understand the reason it veered off course. When we are flitting, fretting and freezing instead of standing up to do what is right, we need the knowledge to do better in the future. In large part, it is because we are human, which immediately makes us flawed. When placed out of our comfort zone, we have the tendency to want to fit in. Fitting in is easy. It’s the standing up when everyone else is sitting that’s more difficult. The shouting in a room filled with quiet. It’s turning your car to the right when everybody is telling you to go left.

We need to accept that doing right, even if unpopular, ultimately creates that which is more fulfilling in the long run. We can’t see it initially but it sets the trajectory for a number of choices further down the road.  That often isn’t a problem for me but getting carried away by the whims of the world is easy. You set your paper boat in the water, knowing it will go whichever way the water is flowing. And then, it might stop. Your little boat is in limbo, halted by a storm drain or branch, waiting to be picked up again. So you do. And this time you can set it down wherever you’d like. You could even take it back home if you wanted. Though it’s easy for your boat to be carried away, the course could change in any given moment.

Falling isn’t without consequence but forgiveness, especially of ourselves, can lighten that already heavy burden. It doesn’t write off the time needed for self-reflection or discussions with people who love us and want to see us succeed.  Knowing we are able to create the best version of ourselves each day is exhilarating. The forgiveness part, at least for me, is still tough to do. I am constantly working on it. But for now, I can pick up my little boat and set it on a brand new course. A new day, a new course and the chance to be the newest, better version of me than I was the day before.