Becoming Who I've Always Been: A 59th Birthday Reflection & Gift to Subscribers

Hope Infusion Newsletter "Olivia's Birthday" Edition - May 1, 2025

I'm 59 years young today, and also every other age I've ever been. Deep within each of us lives every version of ourselves…the child who dreamed without limits, the young adult who stumbled and soared, the seeker who questioned, the builder who created.

Each year lived has been a master class, complete with its own custom syllabus. Every misstep, every triumph, every detour has been a thread woven into the fabric of who I am today.

At 59, I stand at a beautiful crossroads: honoring the wisdom of my past while embracing a future where long-held dreams are finally blooming into reality.

This season of life finds me in transformation; bringing my lifelong love of writing into full expression through stories, reflections, and poetic pieces that I hope serve as light in turbulent times.

I once believed dreams had an expiration date. I know now: it's never too late to become who you've always been.

Here's to the journey. Here's to becoming. Here's to 59 years and counting!

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Calling Her Back: The Return to My Truest Self

This year, I stood at the edge of my soul and softly whispered her name: "Olivia"
I went in search of the gleeful girl who once ran wild across her grandmother's farm in summers, her thick black hair wild as the wind. 

The girl who loved the language of fairy tales and nursery rhymes, myths and legends. Words strung together like fine gems, catching the light of her imagination.

She knew magic lived...  
In the crook of an old oak,  
In the rustle of leaves,  
In the way twilight paints the sky in strokes of lavender and fire.

That girl won her first essay contest at eight; "What a Tree Means to Me," she wrote, as if the sacredness of trees had been etched into her bones.

It was a truth she carried close until life taught her to forget. But truth, I've learned, has roots that never truly cease to remember.

Somewhere along the way she disappeared.  
Or maybe I buried her...  
Under the crushing weight of practicality.  
Under the gray sameness of days filled with meetings and spreadsheets.
I forgot how to listen to the voice of the girl who once heard trees whisper.

Decades passed before I missed her....  
The poetry in her eyes.  
The fire in her soul.  
The fearless comfort of being entirely herself.

I see a version of her in my granddaughter.  
Six years old and luminous!  
Her laughter an echo of my own,  
Her curiosity a mirror,  
Her certainty of her place in the world,  
a challenge I can't ignore.

She reminds me of the younger Olivia — the girl I once was...the girl who went quiet for decades. Waiting patiently for me to remember her name.

Five years ago, I began calling her back.

I picked up my pen  
    and wrote stories,  
          hoping she would hear.

I wandered into woods and stood  
    beneath ancient trees,  
Their branches outstretched like arms,  
     as if they recognized me.

I sat beneath the stars, and meditated in stillness, learning to listen to the wisdom I buried along with her.

Each written word was a breadcrumb on the path back to myself.  
Each moment spent in nature was an offering,  
A promise that I hadn't forgotten her entirely, and was now ready to remember.
And slowly... she began to stir.

I felt her in the thrill of an unexpected line of poetry,  
In the joy of walking barefoot on dewy grass.  
She was still there, waiting patiently.

I now understand that she needed me to grow wise enough to meet her on HER terms.  
To rediscover the truths SHE has always known...  

         That trees are sacred.  
     That language is magic.  
That I am whole when I embrace the girl who never truly left.

And so I call her name, again and again.  

"Olivia."

And she responds, comes closer, her eyes alight with fire and wonder.
This year I FULLY remembered.
Together, we write our way back to ourselves.  
Stay tuned, she has MUCH to say!

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A Birthday Gift From Me to You

As I celebrate 59 trips around the sun, I wanted to offer something meaningful to those who have supported my Hope Infusion journey so far in 2025. I've created a special resource just for you: "Writing Our Way to Hope: 31 Days of Reflection for Hard Times" – a collection of journaling prompts designed to help nurture resilience and uncover light in challenging seasons.

These prompts have emerged from my own practice of using writing as a path toward hope, and I'm delighted to share them with you as my birthday gift.

To receive your free PDF copy: Simply subscribe, if you haven’t already, and leave a comment below. It can be anything from birthday wishes to sharing what hope means to you right now. I'll personally email the prompts to every subscriber who comments within the next week.