On my first day, at my clean desk, with my new degree, I knew.  From my heart erupted an unmistakeable cry.  This is how you are going to sp...

On my first day, at my clean desk, with my new degree, I knew.  From my heart erupted an unmistakeable cry.  This is how you are going to spend the rest of your life? And my soul wilted and withered.  I knew that I'd made a mistake.  I knew I was not meant to engineer concrete parking garages.

I didn't belong there.

I gave it a solid effort, tried desperately for two painful years to quiet the cries, stifle the urge to flee out the door, fit myself neatly into tidy gray pants and crisp white button down.  Struggled to keep my attention focused on the grade beam calculations instead of the wellness websites and spirituality articles minimized into the corner of my work computer.  I so didn't belong there.  My soul slowly grew parched, my lungs gasped for clean air.  I frantically needed out.

And so I bailed, jumped ship, abandoned my career, frightened, wild, failing amongst the wreckage.  A decision that, quite literally, saved my life.

In that uncertain time, as I drifted lost and unsure of my future, waiting tables to earn a living, I heard the whisper of a dream.  I dreamt of starting a wellness center for women.  A place where we could come together for yoga or dance.  A place to offer guidance toward holistic health and wellness.  A space to inspire creativity and art, journaling groups, music classes.  A sacred place where we could gather to meditate, share our stories, hear one another, hug one another, and grow.  A place to learn, a place to teach, a place to love.

I even knew it's name.  The Missing Peace.

I attended a small business development seminar at a local college about starting a business.  I researched, and read, and devoured every morsel of information I could get my hands on.  I looked into yoga teacher training, and nutrition degrees, and wellness coaching.  I was credentialed for precisely nothing.  Slowly, steadily I picked away at this dream, spinning my wheels, going in circles until, eight months pregnant with my sweet Milani, I released it.  I laid it to rest.  The time wasn't right.  The financing wasn't right.

It wasn't meant to be.

The thing is, even when you release a dream, it can flutter along behind you like a feather swept along in the current of a breeze.  Today my dream is still with me.  It still breathes passion into my soul.  I am meant to work with women, together, moving toward the missing peace.

So I am taking the first unsteady step, starting here, the only way I know how from where I am.  I will share my story.  I have created this space so that I can put words to my journey of learning, moment by moment, to reclaim my missing peace - that calm sacred place of simple beauty that exists always just beneath the turbulence of this unpredictable gift of life.  I have created this space so that I can invite you to leave me glimpses into your truth, your journey, to connect and share.  Because if bringing to light my fears, and acknowledging my strengths, and giving voice to my truth resonates with even one single gorgeous soul and gives her hope or reassurance or companionship along her journey, then I have given life to my intention.

This may not be my bricks and mortar wellness center.  It may look vastly different that what I imagined in the beginning.  In fact, I have no idea where this will lead or how this journey will unfold, but it might just evolve into something even more incredible than I dreamt.

Journey with me toward the missing peace?