It’s that time of year when we all start thinking about New Year’s resolutions— what we want next, what we want to change, what we want to do differently.

And as I’ve been reflecting on my own intentions for 2026, two words keep coming through:

Inner Peace & Audacity
(Okay technically that’s three words, but you get the point.)

On paper, they couldn’t feel further apart:

I was seven weeks old the first time I flew to New York.

My parents had just moved to California, but it was my dad’s 40th birthday and their family and friends—their roots—were still entirely based in New York. 

Since then, I’ve spent my life going back and forth between coasts, but Thanksgiving is always spent in New York.

On Tuesday night I taught my 17th workshop of the year (see blurry picture above) — and something happened that honestly shocked me.

For the first time ever, I set a hard ‘door-close’ boundary:

Doors open at 6:00.
Doors close at 6:15.
No late entry. 

I’ll be honest… I hesitated to set that boundary, but I knew it was needed.

I wear three bangles on my right wrist — they’re open-ended, not fully closed.

I’ve also worn my hair tie on that same wrist for as long as I can remember.

Probably 25 years.

Last weekend at an embodied leadership training, I noticed something small but persistent.

Every time I went to gather and put my hair up, my hair tie got caught inside one of my bangles (see picture above).

Every. Single. Time.

So. Freaking. Annoying.

I woke up to the sounds of trippy drone music playing.
I was in the park, surrounded by a hundred other people.
We had just practiced a Kundalini mantra for abundance and had been taken into a deep sound bath.

None of this was planned.

The main thing I want you to know about this letter is that it feels like I could have written it yesterday — with one beautiful caveat: my desire to make choices from “the very essence of my being — the cross-section of body, mind, and heart… or said another way, instinct, intuition, and love” — is no longer a longing. It’s a way of being.

But before I go, I wanted to leave you with a quick audio about one of the simplest & most game-changing practices I know: the sacred pause.

In this short audio, you’ll hear about:

• 🌿 the difference between reacting and responding

• 🌿 why pausing gives you power and choice

• 🌿 how to make sense of your feelings so you can stay grounded

• 🌿 how this one small shift can change every relationship you have

It’s a quick listen, but I promise — if you start practicing this, it’ll change your life! (Seriously!) 

Let’s get real for a moment.

If you’re reading this, I have a hunch that at some point in your life, you’ve felt like you didn’t quite belong — especially within your family of origin.

True or false?

(If true, keep reading. If false…keep reading to gain empathy for the other 95% of us.)

When you tune into the things you want in life but don’t yet have — maybe it’s the career, the finances, the partner, the family, the house, the peace, the clarity, the confidence (to name a few)… 

What happens for you?

What are the feelings that come up?
What are the thoughts you hear?
What are the stories you tell yourself?

If you’re anything like me…

I love you.
I’m sorry.
Forgive me.
Thank you.

These are the four simple yet profound phrases that make up the Hawaiian practice of Hoʻoponoʻono—a prayer of reconciliation, healing, and taking responsibility with others, and sometimes, with ourselves.

In this 10-minute audio you’ll hear:

• What not to do when you’re in contraction (aka the reason you don't know what to do next)

• What to do instead (hint: start where you are)

• A simple embodiment practice to move from contraction → expansion

🎧 You can listen here. 

Honey, I'm home!!

ICYMI—I went to Burning Man for the first time this year. ;) 

For some (most?), Burning Man is pure fun: letting loose, wearing outrageous costumes, seeing epic art and music.

For me? I felt like I threw myself into a multi-week intensive. From the moment I decided to go (with only five weeks' notice), I wrestled daily with fear: fear of the unknown, fear of survival, fear of making it all happen. I was so focused on logistics that it wasn't until I was on the bus, pulling onto “the playa” that I even considered this week might actually be fun….

Of the three pillars of the See And Be Seen Club (The S.A.B.S. Club): see yourself, see another, be seen—it’s “being seen” that tends to feel the most vulnerable. The most edgy. The most terrifying.

But why is that?

How is it that something so essential—this deep human longing to be seen, known, and valued—is also the thing we fear most?

And what actually happens when we do let ourselves be fully seen?

For those of you who haven't heard: 
I'm going to Burning Man for the first time this year.

Technically, I've been to AfrikaBurn in South Africa back in 2015 (see pic of baby Dayna above!). But that was a different story—I landed off a plane, showed up with a few belongings, and my South African friends handled the rest. 

This time? Completely different.
This time, I'm going alone…

Last week, I shared a personal reflection about turning 35—and how even though my life doesn't “look” the way I imagined it might on the outside, I've refused to settle for anything less than a life of deep alignment and integrity on the inside.

But here's the irony I realized this week…

Last week, I bought a giant wall calendar to map out the final six months of the year.

As someone with eight planets in Capricorn, color-coding and planning is my version of fun.

All was going well…
until I got to December 25th.
My 35th birthday.
(And yes, I was born on Christmas.)

I recently posted a reel on Instagram that went semi-viral.
I cringe just saying that—but with over 30k views in 24 hours, I guess the story hit a nerve.

So I figured I’d share it with you, too.

It started with a ring, a bowl, and a plate—each one broke in the same week.

The bowl cracked clean in half.
The ring split right down the middle.
The plate? Just a tiny chip on the edge.