Burnout. Reinvention. A frog-shaped bird feeder. And one scrappy little squirrel.
There was a time—not too long ago—when I believed the only way out was through fire.
If something felt misaligned, I’d scrap it.
If I hit resistance, I’d pivot entirely.
If I was tired, uninspired, or uncertain, I assumed the solution was a full-on life detonation.
Burn it down. Start over. Rise from the ashes.
(Again.)
Sound familiar?
I know so many women—especially powerful, creative, high-capacity women—who believe that the only way to reset is to torch what’s already been built.
But here’s the truth I’ve come to learn (usually the hard way):
You don’t need to destroy everything to find yourself again.
You just need to rebuild differently—with your nervous system, your sovereignty, and your soul at the center.
The Fogo Years: When Everything Went Foggy
In 2021, my family and I moved to Fogo Island.
It felt like a bold leap—a fresh start. But by 2022, I was burnt out in a way I’d never experienced before.
We’d left behind our support systems, friends, and comforts (like Amazon, which doesn’t deliver to the island). I was isolated, emotionally drained, creatively dry, and completely disconnected from myself.
I didn’t feel well in my body or in my spirit.
I didn’t recognize who I was anymore—not as a mother, not as a creator, and definitely not as a leader.
I wanted to walk away from everything.
The old patterns whispered: “Burn it all down. Reinvent. Rise again.”
But this time, I couldn’t.
I didn’t have the energy to burn it down.
So I paused.
And in that pause, I found clay.
When Healing Doesn’t Look Productive
I started playing with pottery—not to make something pretty, not to launch a new product line—but to feel something again.
It was grounding.
It was messy.
It was mine.
And slowly, piece by piece, I began to return to myself.
That reconnection didn’t come through strategy.
It came through slowness.
It came through breath.
It came through nervous system repair, tuning forks, and Bach flower remedies.
I didn’t burn my life down.
I composted it.
I made space for something real to take root.
Enter the Squirrel (and the Frog)
When we eventually left Fogo and returned home, I started building Mermaid Cove.
As we were unpacking and rebuilding, I found something I’d completely forgotten: a frog-shaped bird feeder from my old yoga studio days—wrapped tightly in one of my old yoga mats.
I laughed when I saw it.
Of course.
A frog. Wrapped in a mat. Waiting.
I dusted it off, set it up on the deck overlooking the ocean—and a few days later, he arrived.
The squirrel.
Not a cute, polished, Pinterest squirrel.
A scrappy, slightly busted-up little guy who looked like he’d survived a few seasons of chaos.
And every day since, he climbs onto that frog feeder like it’s his personal throne.
But here’s what gets me:
While he sits—calm, still, unapologetically taking what he needs—the blue jays and crows are flapping, screeching, and fighting for scraps all around him.
It’s chaos.
And he?
He just watches.
Eats.
Enjoys the view.
Locks eyes with me like, “Girl, are you getting this?”
He doesn’t hustle.
He doesn’t prove.
He doesn’t rush.
He just is.
He reminds me that survival doesn’t have to be a performance.
That squirrel has become my nervous system role model and current life coach.
What the Cosmos Says About All This
Right now, as I write this, we’re under the energy of a New Moon in Gemini—and its Sabian Symbol is “An Old-Fashioned Well.”
Could there be a more perfect message?
This lunation is inviting you to pause and draw from your own inner well.
To stop chasing clarity and instead drop into yourself.
Because the well doesn’t demand.
It doesn’t react.
It doesn’t shout.
It holds.
It waits.
It trusts its fullness.
Just like your body.
Just like your timing.
Just like your becoming.
Gemini is ruled by Mercury, the messenger—the only planet that can move freely between the heavens and the underworld.
This is a moon about listening to your inner voice.
Your real voice.
The one that says:
“I’m still here.
I’m still worthy.
I still want more.”
And Gemini?
It holds a secret in plain sight:
The Gem in I.
This is your season to find that gem.
To speak to it.
To become it.
You Don’t Have to Burn It All Down
So if you’re in the thick of it…
If the urge to escape, to quit, or to walk away is screaming at you…
Pause.
Let the blue jays scream.
Let the crows flap and fight.
You can be the squirrel.
You can sit.
You can rest.
You can receive.