I recorded this before the winter break as I was waiting at the airport to board my flight home. This letter speaks of the quiet voice inside that you learn to trust once your nervous system calms down, what labour and work could actually be if we were doing work that was meaningful, and the fact that large corporations only care about you so long as there is money to be made.

This letter is for those of you who are still finding their voice, and are courageously moving through the noise.

This letter is a doozy, folks. The water has been rocky by the lighthouse, dozen foot high waves crashing into the rocks, splashing into this lighthouse keeper's eyes.

Through it all, I remind myself that the lamp is lit and the light is still shining, even when things might be going sideways. I talk about my frustrations at being sold and marketed to 24/7, a collective unrest, and how being ill brings on a mental fog so dense I lost sight of myself.

This letter is for the storm-forged sailors out there–I see you, and the lamp is lit for you.

In this episode of the Lighthouse Letters, I talk about my preference of swimming holes over summit views ( I want an experience you can participate in!), the lies I've been telling myself about how much I should be working, and gratitude for friends and loved ones that understand when I'm absent for a while and get busy, who welcome me back into their lives with open arms.

I also share a challenge that I wasn't expecting to face: the idea of 'falling behind' at 30.

This letter is for anyone who feels like they should be farther along in their careers, has multiple texts they still have to respond to, and for the ones who love being in the water.