Rooted to Self

I lost my best friend, Molly, a week ago.

At 13, I knew our time together was coming to a close… and still, it would have always been too soon.

She wasn’t just my dog.
She was woven into the rhythm of my life.
My shadow. My comfort. My constant.

Her loss hit deep and hard in a way I can feel in my whole body.
Grief has its own path through you… moving through the places that held the most love and the parts of you that were the most open.

This week has been tender.
The kind of tender that lingers.

I’m just now getting to a place where I’m not crying every day.
My routines are still finding their footing.
The house feels too quiet. Too big.
And I still catch myself looking for her in all her favorite spots… half expecting her to be there.

Our fur babies are family.
They hold pieces of our lives that no one else touches.

And this kind of loss doesn’t ask us to move on quickly.
It asks us to feel it. To honor it.

Because the truth is… the life before her loss doesn’t exist anymore.
It’s been changed by loving her.
And it’s been changed by losing her.

And both can be true at the same time.

Sun out, jars out.
I let my herbal tea steep the slow way, with light, time, and a little solar magic.

Nature really is medicine. When the sun shows up, I meet it.
Steeping intention into every sip.

This holiday season has me sitting with a softer kind of awareness. There is a lot of change moving toward me, and with it comes the kind of grief that appears long before anything is lost. It is quiet, honest, and simply asking to be acknowledged.

Molly turns thirteen early next year, and I have been paying attention to the way time is moving with her. She is woven into my life in a soul-deep way, and instead of bracing, I am choosing to be intentional with the moments we still get. There is a quiet gratitude in noticing her softness, her loyalty, her little rituals. All the things that make her who she is.

And with my daughter, this season feels like an unfolding. She is a junior in high school now, stepping into her own world with more confidence and direction. Our connection is evolving, not slipping away. I can sense how our holidays will shift into her coming home rather than simply being here, and there is something beautiful in honoring the woman she is becoming while still savoring who she is in this moment.

Anticipatory grief can feel like a shadow on the edge of joy. It tries to prepare us for what is not yet here, and in the process it can pull us out of the present. I am learning to let it stay in its rightful place. Felt but not consuming. Real but not running the show.

The invitation is to stay awake to what is true today. To let love be fully expressed while it is still within reach. To give the heart room to soften rather than tighten. When grief eventually arrives, it will have space to be held. And until then, the present deserves my attention and my tenderness.

I had big plans this weekend… and then my body hit me with a gentle “girl, not today.”
So I scrapped the agenda, made space to slow down, and let myself actually rest.
Turns out the pause was the plan all along.

There’s something quietly haunting about this moment.

A tiny snail moves across a skull (not real), unaware of the symbolism beneath it. Life gliding over an imitation of death. One real, one pretend - yet somehow, both telling the truth.

A fellow death shared a poem with me this morning. It was about time and how it doesn’t just move forward but moves through us. Watching this little creature, I felt that truth again. Time doesn’t rush. It lingers, seeps, and breathes through presence and the present.

May we remember that life always finds a way to move across what we fear most.

🕯️ Even in what’s fabricated, life reveals what’s real.

✨Feeling stuck in life, or facing its most sacred ending?✨ Rooted to Self holds space for both.

Whether you’re navigating a midlife shift, untangling your identity, or preparing for the end of life - this is where truth meets guidance.

💫 Life Strategy Coaching for the becoming.
🌿 End-of-Life Doula support for the releasing.
🤍 Presence, clarity, and care for all of life’s transitions.

📍San Antonio-based | Virtual sessions available
🔗 Connect at beacons.ai/

✨Feeling stuck in life or facing its most sacred ending?✨Rooted to Self holds space for both.

Whether you’re navigating a life shift, untangling your identity, or preparing for the end of life, this is where truth meets guidance.

💫 Life Strategy Coaching for the becoming.
🌿 End-of-Life Doula support for the releasing.
🤍 Presence, clarity, and care for all of life’s transitions. 📍San Antonio-based | Virtual sessions available
🔗 Connect at beacons.ai/rootedtoself