10/07/2026
There is a particular kind of quiet that only lives in the arms of a child.
When I hold a baby close, something in me settles. The noise of the world falls away, and what’s left is pure presence: a love so high and so steady that it seems to radiate from my chest into everything around me. My breath slows. My heart opens. Time stops asking anything of me.
After 35 years with little ones, this feeling has never faded. If anything, it has deepened. Babies don’t need us to be impressive. They need us to be here, fully. And every time I give them that, they give me something back I still can’t put into words: a calm that feels like coming home, and a joy that feels like prayer.
This is the place my work comes from. This is the place I hope every child gets to rest in. 🤍