The newness of another year and another passion inspired me to write a letter to my future self. About all the things I hope for that person: healing, fulfillment, self-companionship. It's an enlightening practice because it sheds light on what matters most this year and right now. May this letter be what you needed to read today.

These November affirmations are my tribute to a time of sacred intent and a token of my growing fondness for the journey that links all things. These affirmations are small decisions to carry on with the meaningful and often demanding work you feel called to do. To stay true to the process. To trust in what we love.

Letting yourself not just navigate this season, but seeing yourself as inherently part of that process is a radical way of looking at life. It changes almost, if not every single thing. It's a way to find your footing in the world and in this moment, a matter of forgiving yourself and the past enough to move forward.

I wrote the "I Am Enough" poem back in 2016 with a tattered heart after my dad died. I wrote it to remind myself that even though everything felt wrong, being alive wasn't wrong. I hope this reminds you, too, that you don't have to go it alone. That you're full of the light, you're here on purpose, and this is enough.

This poem is another take on the concept of healing "from" trauma. Whether it's loss or illness or some other excruciating pain you've endured, the truth is that some kinds of pain don't ever go away. You can't go back to the life you had before. You can't go back to "normal" - but you *can* lay claim to your new life.

This is a message for the person who’s been dealing with chronic pain as just another part of their life. This is to say: of course you’re still an incredible human being. If you have someone in your life who inspires you by how they live and love through their pain, pass this letter on to them. It’s an “I see you” kind of thing.

A large part of healing involves setting boundaries. Boundaries, in my own language, are the intersection at which I can take care of myself and be fully present with you. They’re guidelines for how I want to be treated and how I choose to respond. It’s when I don’t set those guidelines for myself that I lose myself in other people. Your personal boundaries communicate to others -- and to your own self -- what works for you and what doesn’t.

It’s not too late to be the person you needed when you were younger. It’s never a wrong time to give yourself what you need. If what you need is forgiveness for past wrongs or acceptance of who you are today or appreciation for how far you’ve come, this open letter is yours to read. It's what I wish my younger self knew.

For some of us, we only have to go out into nature to find whatever it is our soul is missing. If you're like me and find everything you need in a walk in the woods, this poem is for you. It's a way of saying, "thank you, I love you" to the beauty still left all around you.