I'm Caitlyn. I'm a mother, wife, daughter, and friend. I am currently in graduate school, studying clinical mental health while staying home with our daughters, Jane and Piper. I am an enneagram four who finds comfort in a good Brandi Carlile playlist with coffee and creative inspiration in Mary Oliver and mountains. I value mindfulness, skip-the-small-talk conversations, effort, and intentionality, as well as sarcasm, animated talkers and facial expressions that give away what you're thinking.

Like a good little introvert, I have spent my whole life writing down my thoughts and perception and questions in journals. An outlet, but at times an echo-chamber in which one can find themselves lost in. But between raising our daughters and working, the piles of scribbled thoughts and unfinished pages have begun to clutter my nightstand, my desk, my mind and the console of my car. I am learning that even during the most repetitious days, there are so many sacred moments we can partake in, but forget to taste and savor. Daily sacraments given to us in the forms of friendship, peals of toddler laughs, a shared meal or pink morning light painting wooden floors that call out to us to stop and receive the gift. Like the remnant of summer stories glistening in the damp piles of leaves, they go unnoticed and untold, and lately, I feel as though I am top-heavy with words ready to spill out onto blank pages to capture those moments in my own life. Whether they are gifts of light and joy or shadowed and weightier gifts of grief and difficulty, I want to write them down. 

“Ten times a day something happens to me like this - some strengthening throb of amazement - some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness.” | Mary Oliver