One of the coolest ways I’ve found to engage in life is through astrology. I know not everyone believes in astrology. I don’t even know if I believe in astrology. But I have found it to be a really fun and exciting way to engage in the journey of life.

I’ve always loved the idea of this world being a mystical and magical place where even the stars are trying to tell us who we are and what we might be here for. What if these glowing orbs of bursting energy are pointing us toward or guiding us along a hidden path that leads to true healing and purposeful living?

A couple of years back I was on an LSD journey. I had taken a tab of this psychedelic invitation and found myself laying in the grass of my friends back yard staring up at the sky…

As a musician, one of the things I hear the most from other musicians is how they can’t stand the sound of their own voice. Or they can’t stand to listen to their own record.

Wait. What?

You mean that the thing that you do in life that means the most to you - the thing that you spend the most time on - the thing that you say gives you the most purpose - you’re telling me that is also the thing that is the hardest to enjoy?

The crazier part of this is that I see this view of disliking one’s own talent celebrated in our society. I see really big artists post things on the internet like - “If you listen to your own music you’re weird.” or “You’re full of yourself.” - I’ve even seem meme’s made to make fun of an artist for enjoying their own art.

This my friends is a problem.

I’ve been singing on stages in front of people for over 20 years now.

Woah! That’s a fucking long time.

And every time I do it - I enjoy it. All the way through my body.

I realize that not a lot of people get to have this experience and I get a lot of questions about what it’s like - so I thought I’d tell you:)

somedays i wake dark

nestled in the remnants of yesterday’s hanger ons

plaited around my body’s familiar posture paused

the tracks of unfinished thoughts and aggravated sores

waiting still to be packed sorted placed

it is okay to go slow, Lisa

though you feel you’ll be devoured wholly by

the warped chaos of this synthetic dream

you’ve found yourself wake to

this tiny little cabin in the woods

sitting above the swift icy green and white capped river

tucked beneath the moss laden trees

and their chandeliered branches of crystaled rain

how do you love the unlovable?

when you’re…

We physically wake up in this world with almost no effort. By alarm or instinct our bodies wake into this world every morning. ⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣

The mind sputters on, eyes open, and boom, we are awake. It can feel quite jarring, as we are forced from the warm, safe, womb of our dream lands into the unpredictable, often overwhelming, realm of the hustle bustle. Simply because it’s time. It’s time to wake up, so we wake up.

i did not have a mother to teach me to mother⁣

I've been thinking a lot lately about fear. I've heard it said over and over again that you get what you focus on - that you manifest what you spend time thinking about. That's interesting.

And for some reason sounds too magical for me to wrap my logical mind around.

i begged to see your deepest and wildest

but even at the surface

I'm terrified

not for you

you are beautiful, my love

the days we miss each other

the days our sync waivers

i got high when you were low and

i missed the cue

to come in

Summer. The kids are out of school. Routines and schedules get hazy. There is more time for play and connection. Hard lines soften, and I feel it happening inside of me as well.

I went camping with some friends the other weekend. Sitting around the campfire, under the late night sky, with the murmur of rushing waters of the creek nearby, one friend asked, “So, I have a question for you guys. What do you think happens after we die?

At the age of 36, I felt the last few grains of Christianity fall like sand through my fingers, becoming a part of the soil beneath my feet. I found myself standing on a new earth, one that I knew hardly anything about, one that had been around for billions of years, one that I had only been a part of for 36.

patience is

the breath

the pause

the slow work from here to there

Not too long ago, I was playing corn hole with a friend of mine. You know the game. Two boards, 4 friends and a bunch of sewn up bags just waiting to be thrown a super long distance with the hope of a perfect landing for points.

I was feeling pretty good that day. Like a winner. I took the bag in my hands, put my eyes on the prize and threw it into the air with all of my heart and soul toward the unforgiving board 25 ft away.

Every once in a while, I’ll get a clumping of words that float around, float around, float around, until they hit just the right order, at just the right time, and *click*, they fall into formation and descend into my being.

I’ve been thinking a lot about emotions lately.

The way they come. They way they go.

The way they sound. The way they feel.

My body is like the shallow floor of the ocean, my emotions like the waves.

Life is a constant series of transitions.

You know the story.