Rooted in the Reach: Cultivating Creative Boundaries and a Sill Full of Bloom


Here in the Texas blackland prairie, we’ve learned that growth is relentless. But the same rich soil that supports the sprawling acreage outside is just as capable of nourishing life when it’s carefully contained. This season, as I’ve been navigating my own internal transition—focused on structure and the resilient work of Broken Fence Publishing and The Second Half—I’ve found myself looking for a tangible reminder of that truth.


I found it on my windowsill.
It’s easy to believe that true “growth” requires boundless space—whether that’s literal acreage or an empty, uncluttered schedule. But true resilience isn’t defined by the size of the container. It’s defined by the capacity to take root and reach for the light, exactly where you are.


Protecting the Inner Garden


This spring has been a study in boundaries for me. In my creative life and personal story, I’ve had to learn that protecting my peace is not the same as building walls. A fence doesn’t exist to block the sun; it exists to create a sacred, intentional space where new growth isn’t trampled.
Just as a strong fence defines a property, healthy boundaries define who gets access to your time, your energy, and your narrative. They allow you to decide what gets planted and, just as importantly, what gets kept out. When you are rebuilding and reimagining your “second half,” this protective structure is everything. It ensures that when you finally do “bloom,” the roots are strong, anchored, and safe.


The Power of the Potted Life
The natural metaphor for this is happening right inside my house. This month, I’m leaning into “small-scale” planting.
You don’t need a tractor or an elaborate irrigation system to cultivate life. A windowsill is enough. A few intentional pots are enough. If you find yourself in a season where you don’t have the space, time, or energy for a sprawling “garden,” you can still choose to cultivate a Sill Full of Bloom.


Here are three things you can plant right now, in small containers, that will bring immediate life and texture to your space:


Window Basil (and Mint!): These are perhaps the easiest to container-grow. A simple pot near a sunny window provides fresh fragrance and flavor all summer. They are a daily, sensory reminder of intentional growth.


Potted Peppers (Banana or Cherry): Many varieties of peppers thrive in containers. Their bright red and yellow colors are cheerful, vibrant, and incredibly rewarding to harvest. They are proof that something compact can still be incredibly productive.


Marigolds and Petunias: If you’re craving color, a small planter box of hardy annuals is a joyful “pop.” They are the “easy listening” of the plant world—reliable, bright, and impossible to ignore. They bloom all season long, reminding you that small efforts can have lasting beauty.


Growth in Every Scale


What I love about these contained gardens is that they require a different kind of attention. They need to be tended daily. They remind me that the structure (the pot, the sill, the boundary) doesn’t limit the growth; it simply shapes and protects it.


This May 1st, I’m celebrating the small spaces. I’m honoring the boundaries that keep my creativity safe, and I’m tending the blooms that are happily rooted right where they belong. The reach toward the light is the same, no matter the scale.


What boundary are you protecting in your life right now? And what tiny thing are you planting that makes your space feel a little more alive? I’d love to know!

The Soundtrack of May: Finding the Melody in the Transition


There is a specific frequency to May in this part of Texas. The “blackland” is vibrant, the mornings still hold a lingering coolness, and the world feels like it’s humming a brand-new tune. As a songwriter, I can’t help but listen for the rhythm in it all—the way the wind catches the fence line or the steady, rhythmic chirping of the birds before the afternoon heat settles in.


By May 1st, we aren’t just “planning” for growth anymore; we are living right in the middle of it. If April was about the quiet work of the roots, May is the full-blown chorus.


Listening to the Layers


In a good song, the layers have to work together. You have the steady beat of the drums (the daily chores, the family schedules, the “must-dos”) and the soaring melody (the dreams, the creative sparks, the “could-bes”).


Lately, I’ve been practicing the art of listening to those layers without getting overwhelmed by the noise.
The Steady Beat: The familiar sounds of a full house—the laughter, the front door swinging open, the clatter of life. It’s the anchor that keeps everything else grounded.


The Creative Counterpoint: That sudden lyric that hits you while you’re folding laundry or the melody that starts to form while you’re out walking. It’s the reminder that even in the busiest seasons, there is room for a new song.


Changing the Key


Sometimes, life asks us to change the key. Maybe the pace is picking up, or the “sound” of your season is shifting from a quiet acoustic ballad to something a bit more upbeat and demanding. That shift isn’t a bad thing; it’s just a transition.
I’m learning that you don’t have to fight the change in tempo. You just have to find your footing in the new rhythm.

Whether you are navigating a career shift, a creative milestone, or just the changing needs of your family, there is a melody there if you’re quiet enough to hear it.


What is Your Song Today?


Take a second today to really listen—not just with your ears, but with your heart.


What is the “hook” of your life right now?


Is it a song of peace, a song of hustle, or a song of quiet resilience?


As we step into May, I’m keeping my notebook close and my heart open to the music of the everyday. There is so much beauty in the transition if we just stop to hear it.


I’d love to know: if your life had a soundtrack right now, what would the genre be? Let’s talk about the music of our lives in the comments!

The Second Half of the Season: Finding Our Bloom


There is a specific kind of quiet that happens right before spring really takes hold. In the songwriting world, we talk a lot about “the hook”—that moment where everything clicks and the story finds its rhythm. Life has those moments, too, but they often come after a season of being dormant.


As we move into late April, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to enter the “second half” of a journey. Whether it’s a creative project, a career shift, or just a new chapter in a family’s story, the transition isn’t always loud and flashy. Sometimes, it’s just a steady, quiet reclaiming of who you are meant to be.


Resilience in the Roots
In this part of the country, the earth is tough. It takes a certain kind of strength for a seed to push through that heavy soil. I think we’re a lot like that. We carry the weight of our past seasons—the winters that felt a little too long or the storms that shook our fences—but we still find a way to reach for the light.


Defining Your Narrative
One of the most powerful things we can do is decide how our story is told. For me, that’s happening through music and words, finding the melody in the transitions. But you don’t have to be a songwriter to rewrite your rhythm.
Listen to the change: What is the “new song” in your life right now?


Honor the growth: Even if you aren’t exactly where you planned to be, look at how far the roots have gone down.
Accept the timing: Some things bloom early; some take their time. Both are beautiful.
Looking Ahead


As the days get longer and the “Mother-Sense” kicks in, I’m leaning into the gratitude of being right here, right now. The heaviness of winter is lifting, and there is a lot of music yet to be written. And I am preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. ❤️


How are you finding your rhythm this month? Is there a part of your story that is finally starting to bloom?

Do you have things you need to protect if the storms do come??

Let’s chat!

Recalibrating Gratitude


I sometimes catch myself being ungrateful.
Not in a loud, stomping-my-feet kind of way. Not in a way that would be obvious to anyone watching. But in the quiet way where I start overlooking what’s good and fixating only on what’s wrong.
The past few months have been particularly rough — financially, emotionally, physically. I still don’t have real answers about the left flank pain, though it has improved, and for that I am thankful. The heart issues? They seem to have been a fluke… or maybe a warning shot across the bow. Either way, my heart is strong, my blood pressure has normalized, and that is no small gift.
Emotionally and physically, though? It’s felt like one of those rickety carnival rides — the kind that jerks you around without warning. Up, down, sideways, spinning just fast enough to make you question your equilibrium.
And somewhere in the middle of all that, I caught myself.
Not focusing on solutions. Not leaning into my usual “everything is figure-outable” mantra. Not scanning for silver linings or mapping out next steps.
I was wallowing.
And honestly? That’s not like me at all.
I’m the one who finds the bright side. I’m the one who reframes. I’m the one who says, “Okay, this is hard — now what are we going to do about it?”
But even the strong ones get tired. Even the optimistic ones have days where the weight feels heavier than usual.
So I did what I know to do when I feel myself drifting off course.
I recalibrated.
I carved out a little time each day to be alone. To reflect. To sit with my life and my circumstances without judgment. And somewhere in that quiet, I found something steady again.
Gratitude.
Not the fluffy, hashtag kind. The grounded kind. The kind that says: I am still here.
I am still able to spend time with my mostly grown kids.
I get to hear my sweet Aubree call me “Grand-ma-ma!”
I get to feel Charlotte slip her little hand into mine and lean in for a forehead kiss.
That is not small. That is everything.
I am fortunate. I am blessed. Even on the bad days. Even when the money feels tight. Even when my body feels unpredictable. Even when I have a moment (or two) of wallowing.
Gratitude doesn’t mean pretending things aren’t hard. It means refusing to let the hard things be the only things I see.
Perspective, y’all.
If you are weary, you are not alone. If you’ve been riding your own version of a bad carnival ride, I see you. But take a moment. Look around. Find one thing — just one — that anchors you back to what’s still good.
Recalibrate.
Because bitterness is heavy. Despair is suffocating. But gratitude? Gratitude steadies the ride.
We’ve got this.
Love and light, folks.

Embracing Struggle

How Life’s Challenges Lead to Blessings

Life has a way of throwing curveballs at us when we least expect them. There are moments when the weight of our struggles feels unbearable, and it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that we are being punished or that we will never overcome the obstacles in our path. Yet, if we take a step back and look at our lives from a broader perspective, we might realize that struggle isn’t the enemy—it’s a necessary part of growth, transformation, and ultimately, the realization of our blessings.

The truth is, we often stand in the way of our own blessings, not because they aren’t meant for us, but because we struggle to embrace the challenges that are essential for our growth. Struggle, as paradoxical as it may seem, is part of the divine design of life. When we’re experiencing hardship, it’s easy to focus on the pain or the apparent lack of progress. But what if, instead of resisting those difficult times, we leaned into them? What if we learned to trust that, even when things seem bleak, something greater is unfolding behind the scenes?

The Gift in Struggle

Struggle teaches us resilience. It forces us to grow in ways we never would have imagined. When life tests us, we uncover strengths within ourselves we didn’t know existed. It’s in the hard moments—when we feel like we’re at our lowest—that we discover a well of courage, patience, and determination we never thought we had. It’s in the darkest valleys that we develop the perspective to truly appreciate the peaks.

The famous author C.S. Lewis once said, “Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny.” How true this is! Often, we look at our struggles as things to avoid or eliminate, but they are often the very things that shape our future. Our challenges bring us closer to the people we are meant to be. Without those tests, without those failures, we wouldn’t have the capacity to appreciate the victories, the light, or the blessings when they arrive.

Faith and the Power of the Unseen

There’s a deep, unspoken truth in life: sometimes, we don’t see the good that is coming to us, not because it isn’t there, but because it isn’t visible yet. Faith is the quiet assurance that something greater than ourselves is at work. It’s the belief in things not seen, the trust that even when we can’t see the way forward, something beautiful is unfolding.

Whether you identify as religious or spiritual, many people have experienced moments where, looking back, they see how the challenges they faced led them to a place of profound growth and understanding. There’s a reason that “faith” is often spoken about in times of uncertainty—because it is in those moments, when we feel lost, that faith reminds us that there’s more to the story than what we see in front of us.

In these moments, it’s important to remember that what may feel like a setback is sometimes a redirection. Life, in its mysterious way, is preparing us for something far better than what we could have imagined. What we interpret as failure could be a setup for success—a process we have to go through to become who we’re truly meant to be.

Gratitude for the Darkness

It’s easy to be grateful when things are going well. We’re thankful for the good health, the steady job, the happy relationships. But what about when things are not going well? Can we also find gratitude in those times? Can we be thankful for the struggles, the challenges, the darkness?

I believe we can, and we should. The darkness teaches us to appreciate the light. It’s in the moments of deep struggle that we learn to recognize the power of joy, peace, and contentment when they do come. Imagine how easy it would be to take blessings for granted if we didn’t know what it was like to feel without them.

Gratitude for the darker times isn’t about ignoring the pain or pretending that everything is fine. It’s about recognizing that through hardship, we grow. We become more compassionate, more understanding, more resilient. We develop a deeper sense of gratitude for the things we used to take for granted. And in this process, we cultivate a strength that can only come from facing the storms of life head-on.

Growing Through What We Go Through

Ultimately, life is about growth. We are meant to evolve, to learn, to adapt. The struggles we face aren’t there to defeat us—they are there to refine us. Every time we face a challenge, we have a choice: we can give in to defeat, or we can use that challenge as an opportunity to grow. When we choose growth, we choose the path that leads us to better versions of ourselves.

Through each struggle, we develop new skills, insights, and emotional intelligence that enable us to navigate future challenges with greater ease. And when we approach life with a mindset of growth, we begin to see opportunities in places we once saw only obstacles.

So, instead of focusing on the difficulty of the moment, let’s shift our perspective. Let’s ask ourselves: What can I learn from this experience? How can I grow from this challenge? How can I use this to become a better version of myself?

The Blessing in the Struggle

Looking back on the challenges we’ve faced, it’s easy to see how they shaped who we are today. Some of our biggest blessings may have been disguised as hardships in the beginning. The job that felt like a dead end may have led to a more fulfilling career later. The relationship that ended may have opened the door for a deeper connection with someone else. The illness or setback may have forced us to slow down and reevaluate our priorities, leading us to a healthier, more balanced life.

In the midst of struggle, we can’t always see how things will unfold, but we can trust that, just as the sun rises after the darkest nights, so too will brighter days follow our challenges. Our struggles don’t define us—they refine us, helping us become who we are meant to be, ready to embrace the blessings that are on their way.

Wrapping it up for you:

Life is a mixture of light and dark, joy and sorrow, success and failure. It’s easy to be thankful when things are going well, but the true test of our character comes when we learn to appreciate the value of struggle, to embrace the unknown with faith, and to cultivate gratitude even in the darkest moments.

Through the struggles, the setbacks, and the pain, we grow. And in that growth, we discover our deepest blessings. So, the next time life feels like it’s challenging you beyond measure, remember this: your growth is happening in those moments. You are being prepared for something far greater than you can imagine, and sometimes, the struggles you face today are the stepping stones to the blessings of tomorrow.