Welcome.

I started this website a few years ago with the intention to write and release raw, unedited musings on whatever I was going through or thinking about. I thought the idea to be liberating – to be able to say whatever I wanted, express whatever I needed under the guise of calling it “art.” I thought I could divorce myself from a deep inner critic and assume a detached, unbothered relationship with what I wrote and how I perceived other people received it.

That was not the case.

The statement shown on the home page – “STREAMS OF BEING IS A DECLARATION AGAINST THE SILENCING OF HUMAN EMOTION FOR THE SAKE OF COMFORT AND COMPOSURE” – is much better understood in theory, not in practice. At least for me.

While I successfully got into the habit of writing every day, I couldn’t bring myself to share anything new on these particular pages. I became overly preoccupied with trying to figure out what the “point” of the website was, why it’s relevant to anyone at all, how my words might be misconstrued to make me seem less than…or more than…I am.

My ego and my soul are still learning how to be friends. 

I began to worry this was just a grandiose display of narcissism. A poor me party. A look at me party. I became embarrassed the words I seemed to need to be writing were dripping in anguish much of the time. My life is not bad, I told myself. I hated myself for not being able to “get over” my attachments to things that happened years ago; acting like a self-indulgent victim/child became my worst fear.

So, I decided I would no longer allow myself to speak and share in this capacity…literally for the sake of my own comfort and composure. The exact outcome I was trying to avoid.

What had the potential to be a cool place to play with self-expression became a too-serious chore that I began to feel utterly exhausted by.

But, I’m ready to try again, and this time around I feel excited to accept that I do not know the intention of this website. It will evolve with me. I do not know what style of writing will appear on here, but I am trusting the creative process. I can’t tell you if some days I’ll veer off into complete self-indulgent breakdowns or if I’ll fly high into high vibe land oozing idealistic optimism and hope for a better world. Probably a little bit of both, probably on the same day.

I look forward to making some updates and sharing my writing in a few different ways within this site as well as expanding into other modalities in the future – mixed media, spoken word, long-form publications, who knows what else.

So for now, welcome. I hope the contents help you see that unrefined and messy is actually the only way there is to be and the more we create from that space the more we come to understand ourselves and our true capabilities.

What’s in a Name?

A bit about Streams:

For as long as I can remember I’ve been fascinated by water. As a kid, I’d constantly look forward to my next opportunity to be in it…rather difficult when surrounded by rows of endless corn and land-locked Midwestern prairies.

Some days, I’d beg my mom to connect the garden hose to the sprinkler so I could gallivant across our lawn in jelly sandals and no shirt. Other days, days when the air was ripe with moisture from late-summer storms, I’d press my cheek against the window and wait for the lightning to relent, counting the moments until I could burst through the front door and run to the edge of the driveway where the curb met the street and the water gathered into delicious puddles just waiting to be explored.

Occasionally, I found myself the guest of a friend or neighbor whose parents had a lake house or a boat, and there were many an afternoon spent trekking through the muddy trails of receded flood plains, steep quarries, and abandoned creek beds.

Though I appreciate water in all its forms and have seen vast oceans, mighty rivers, and great lakes, there’s something so captivating about a stream. The way it looks. The sound it makes as it bubbles through deposited rock sediment. The smell. It’s magic.

Philosophically, I think I’m drawn to streams for what they represent: individual facets of a much greater whole…streaming and careening their way throughout the entire hydrologic cycle, carrying life-sustaining nutrients and serving different, yet integral, roles at each intersection until eventually becoming absorbed into a larger body, thus triggering the cycle to repeat again. You know, much like humans. 

Personally, I’m attracted to streams because of their transient nature. For the very fact they were designed to wander. To change direction. Become deep, remain surface. Twist, turn, start, stop, flow, be. It’s their nature. 

For much of my life I’ve identified with those characteristics of the stream –not sure where I’m going or where I necessarily came from or where I will particularly end up –but going nonetheless. Moving nonetheless. Being nonetheless.

And through that process I’ve collected things. I’ve collected stories. Memories and moments, great joys, and deep pain. I’ve expanded and retracted. Held it all in and let it all go. I’ve felt dry and barren, but also so full of life that I’ve burst through my banks and spilled over onto everyone and everything around me. That’s my nature. The human experience. 

A stream reminds me of the internal, intangible currents of wisdom, strength, understanding, hope, realization, and ultimately freedom that reside in all of us if we choose to slow down and look. It reminds me that life is always flowing, always unfolding, and to experience it we just have to be willing to get into the water. 

A bit about me:

A 30-something, Midwest-dwelling, left brain/right brain split, Marketer-by-day who has a love/hate relationship with social media. Open-minded and deeply curious, I believe learning and expanding perspective is one of the greatest gifts we can offer one another. One dog, one cat, one boyfriend, and a cute 1920s brick home. Definitely a meteorologist in a past life.