I wanted to write a blog post about the New Year. About intentions. About that one special word that is the inspiration I choose to focus on for 2017. But that’s not what happened when I sat down to write. What happened was a bit more unexpected, a bit more raw. And I think it’s worth sharing because what transpired has been delightfully surprising.
Finding Sanctuary is all about…
It's where it all starts, isn't it? Loving and honoring ourselves, each other, and our planet. Sanctuary truly is a function of love.
Sanctuaries are sacred. They remind us of gratitude, abundance, living mindfully, meditation, connection with the earth.
My passion, my profession. Sanctuary is about our relationship with the environment that we intentionally create around us.
Don’t get me wrong — I love fashion and trends as much as anyone. But when it comes to the sanctuaries I design, I’m not as excited to explore the latest looks or to follow the crowd.
I’m sitting down to write this on September 28th. My dad would have been 74 years old today. But, as he only made it to his 68th year, he isn’t here to sip this celebratory whiskey with me. I’ll have to drink it alone, which makes me laugh. He once told me that he never minded drinking alone. Some days I know just what he meant.
Magic happens when we lower our defenses and approach the world unguarded and vulnerable. I took that risk at a talk I gave to designers across the country a few weekends ago.
Today is our birthday. We have A LOT to celebrate. And since birthdays are perfect timing for reflection, for taking stock, I wanted to write to you with a hint of what’s ahead, a reminder of what’s worth considering.
On a sunny day in Asheville in a crystal shop I spotted along the road, I held a geode in my hands. My eyes took in the glitter of the crystals that had grown within, but my mind was on my son, my daughter, and where we were all headed.
Without needing a word for it, my mother made her love manifest in everything around her. I found my first sanctuary in her arms, and in every corner of my childhood home.
When I feel like I have lost my way, signposts help point me in the right direction. But they rarely look like I would expect, and often that direction is one I wouldn’t have imagined.
Before I can think about creating a personal sanctuary, I need to create stillness. I need what I call The Clearing. The uncluttered floor, the empty desk, the tabletop of nothingness. I need to make room.
Finding sanctuary in my own life has been an an extraordinary journey – one that continues today. But it all started with my baby girl.