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Inviting Yourself into Joy

Have you ever felt like you are on the outside, looking in? And everyone else is on the inside where it’s light and happy? And you’re just longing for someone to come, tap you on the shoulder, and invite you inside? Does it feel like happiness is always just outside of your reach? That your life is full of suffering one blow after the other?

What if I told you that the only person that has the ability to truly invite you in and take you into the happiness you are longing for, is yourself? Would you believe me if I told you the distance between where you are and where you want to be is in your mind? What if the change you long for begins in your mind?

But first, let me bring this back to the heart. Because I want you to know that, for me, this is not a theory in my mind. This is a story I have lived.

In case you’re new here, in my last post, I shared that there were many moments earlier in my life when I struggled to be here. And if you have been following me from the beginning, you have seen me process heartbreak and grief in real time. For so long, I felt like my life was defined by grief and pain.

And yet, if you would bump into me today on the street, you would not recognize me as that same person. In fact, when people who’ve come into my life more recently, see photos of me from ten years ago, they tell me I look younger now than I did then.

This does not mean that my life is free from grief and pain. In fact, this year has been bringing it by the boatload. And yet, I am here. Fully here. Tapped into a joy I didn’t know was possible.

Do you want to know my secret? How I invited myself into a life defined by joy instead of pain? It all started by changing my mind. Literally.

You see, the trauma I experienced as a child caused me to isolate tender parts of myself, and I believed the only way I could ever be safe is if I first made everyone around me happy and safe. So I spent my life tending to everyone around me. I became the adult in the room, able to read the mood before a word was spoken. I gave, and gave, and gave. Until I had nothing left. And those tender, isolated parts were just as scared and unhappy as before.

This wasn’t a character flaw or a choice I made. It’s what trauma does to a young brain — it wires the nervous system for vigilance and self-erasure, and those grooves get carved so deep they start to feel like personality, like fate. The brain builds a kind of armor, and then forgets it’s armor at all. For decades, mine held.

Then, years later, I found something that could soften it.

A friend told me about a documentary on Netflix called How to Change Your Mind, by Michael Pollan. Each episode follows a different substance — LSD, psilocybin, MDMA, mescaline — and traces where it’s been. The early scientific promise. The explosion into 1960s counterculture. The decades of prohibition that followed. And now, the quiet resurgence — scientists circling back, asking whether these substances might actually help people carrying depression, PTSD, addiction, the fear that comes with dying. Old footage, researchers, and people who’d lived it — sitting with their own stories of what these medicines opened up in them. Pollan included.

I decided to watch the series because I was growing weary of the heaviness that defined my life. At first I was skeptical, to say the least. I’d grown up following all the rules, outsourcing my inner authority to others. My teen years were sober, quiet, and filled with volunteering and serving others. No drinking. No dancing. And certainly no drugs. But by the time I’d finished watching the series, something shifted deep within. My intuition, which is actually one of my strongest gifts but had been silenced from years of religious trauma, was waking up. Telling me it’s time. I could no longer live in the cage my mind had trapped itself in.

And so I experienced my first psychedelic journey and it opened the first door for me to begin walking towards those tender isolated pieces that I had left behind. It was not a fun experience by any means. In fact, I wept and wept, as I saw something I had been carrying since my birth.

That was the first of many healing journeys I have taken. I have come face to face with many traumas. Sat unflinchingly and let myself feel the depths of the pain. I’ve also been taken to the heights of ecstasy, held for hours by pure and Divine Feminine Love. I’ve seen lifetimes of my soul in unspeakable pain and heard the words, “This time you get to choose.” And so I am choosing. I am healing. And I am living. My brain is literally rewiring itself and I feel like a new person.

This is because, as I mentioned before, trauma wires us a certain way so we can survive. But when we do psychedelics, the brain opens back up — a window of time where we can literally rewire it. New neural pathways, forming where the old, scared ones used to run the show. Gül Dölen, the brilliant neuroscientist who famously studied MDMA’s effect on octopuses, says the therapeutic window isn’t just hours or days. It’s weeks, sometimes months, after the acute effects of psychedelics have worn off.

While there is so much I could share on the topic, and entire books I could write about my experiences, I want to sum it up with care and reverence. For me, these are not drugs. That is the word the law has given these substances. It’s also the same word, incidentally, that defines things like ibuprofen and Tylenol that many take daily without a second thought. Sit with that for a minute.

Indigenous cultures have been using these mind altering substances for thousands of years and see them as Sacred. They are treated as substances that have great power to heal. They are not taken in parties and for fun. Not used to numb or forget. No, they are used to remember. To bring up the forgotten pain so that it can finally be healed.

These sacred substances are not to be used lightly. Set and setting is so important. Having a trusted guide who can hold the container is invaluable. Not having these things in place, can actually bring about more harm than healing.

Equally important, is that window of time after the experience, when the brain is in a neuroplastic state and new pathways can be formed. This is why intention and integration are so important. There are therapists who are trained in this specific kind of integration.

If this stirs something within you, I encourage you to sit with it. Don’t rush into the first option you find. Do your own research. Find others you trust, who have experienced this and can give you advice. Help may be closer than you know.

Healing is available. Not just to everyone else. It’s here for you too. And the first step begins in your mind.

Want to hear more? Find me on Instagram @marshandmoon1 and Facebook Marsh and Moon. Email me at palmtreemomma@proton.me to be added to my email list.

For more on this fascinating topic, I highly recommend this podcast on On Being, where Gül Dölen is interviewed by Krista Tippett. https://onbeing.org/programs/gul-dolen-psychedelic-science-and-radical-healing/

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I Have a Crush on Life Again

It all started in January.

While cold and snowflakes settled over much of the country, I stepped into an intentional journey — a carefully held ceremonial space where I was guided deep into the subconscious. I navigated terrains that were both familiar and strange.

During the heart of the journey, I was asked a question.

“Do you want to live?”

I sat with that for a moment. Did I really want to live? A recent scan had revealed a breast lump and I was facing a lot of fears. There had been many moments during the first 50 years of my life when I hadn’t really wanted to live. Sadness and depression used to be my normal.

But I have found so much healing during the last few years and settled into a joy unlike anything I had known before. So the question felt strange — even though, at one time, it would have felt like a relief.

My answer was Yes — because I knew that there is so much more love that wants to flow through this body and out into a love-starved world.

A few days later, on my birthday, I got a call from my dermatologist. Melanoma.

I forgot all about my resounding Yes and slipped into a dark hole. Overwhelmed. Alone. Hundreds of miles from friends and family, I wondered if I had made a mistake when I uprooted my life and replanted myself so far away.

I remember crumbling on my kitchen floor. A well of grief erupted and I wailed.

It wasn’t death itself that terrified me. It was the aloneness.

One morning during meditation, I saw myself sitting in the middle of a mossy circle — a place where some of my dearest friends like to gather. I looked up and found myself surrounded by community. A protective wall of living, breathing hearts.

And I remembered the question. And I felt the answer still alive in every cell of my body.

YES.

So I decided I was going to live.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of fighting with insurance and finding a surgeon. Due to a technicality, my insurance refused to cover the surgery I needed. I spent hours every day battling and advocating for myself. The depth of the melanoma meant the surgeon wanted to do a lymph node biopsy as well as the excision — far more complicated and costly than it should have been.

But my community rallied. They helped me find a way through something that looked impossible. Eighteen days after the diagnosis, my best friend and soul sister drove in from Atlanta and sat with me through surgery. Three days later — all clear. Cancer-free.

Today I have a six-inch scar on my back. A reminder that it’s worth doing what it takes to really live.

The breast lump turned out to be nothing worrisome. The melanoma is gone.

And then the initiations kept coming.

2026 has not let up. I had my heart broken and lost the person I thought was my soulmate. And now it looks like I’m losing my job. Each one its own kind of loss. Each one asking the same question in a different voice: Do you still want to live? Do you still choose this?

And each time, the answer is the same.

I am leaning into my community. I am tapping into the non-traditional and non-ordinary healing modalities I’ve encountered over the last few years — the ones that have cracked me open and put me back together in ways nothing else could. And I have never felt more alive or more whole. In spite of all the pain and loss. Because of it.

If you’re stuck in a dark place and the things you’ve tried aren’t working — reach out. If I can go from the kitchen floor to absolutely loving life, you can too.

I’m not a therapist or a doctor. But the lessons I’m integrating are their own special medicine, and I may be able to point you toward something different worth trying.

Want to hear more? Find me on Instagram @marshandmoon1 and Facebook Marsh and Moon. Drop me a line to be added to my email list.

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Coming Home to Myself

It’s been three years since I packed my car and left the life that was familiar to me. Cried across every state line until I got to South Carolina, where I stopped and ate a picnic lunch. The air smelled different and I knew I was almost home. A few hours later, I crossed into Georgia and there it was. Home.

I’ll never forget pulling into the garage for the first time. Unloading my things in a corner of the kitchen before heading to Target for cleaning supplies and a frozen dinner. I couldn’t wait to nest into my new home. I swept and mopped the floors and set up the coffee maker, before laying my mat down and falling into a restful sleep.

The next morning I was up, bright and early for a sunrise walk at the beach. After years of taking care of others, I was finally ready to take care of myself.

Starting over does that to you, if you let it. Maybe it was being alone in a quiet house with only the noise of the birds, cicadas and frogs. No one vying for my attention. No needs except my own. Or maybe it was because I had exhausted myself by all the ways I had tried to get my needs met up to this point. But living on my own for the first time in my life gave me a golden gift. The gift to finally come home to my self.

So here I am, three years later, in love with myself and my life in ways I never have been before. Not that it’s been easy. I’ve made friends and lost friends. Had a potentially terminal illness. That journey deserves its own telling, and I’ll share it soon. I fell in love. And then lost the person I thought I was going to grow old with. Again.

I’ve gone quiet for awhile. Gone deep inside and found incredible healing. Experienced altered states of consciousness that allowed me to revisit childhood trauma and heal the little girl that thought she was forgotten. I’m slowly integrating mystical experiences and learning to bring them forward into the outer world. I’m learning to take up space and stop making myself small. I have gone quiet for a time, to heal even deeper. But now it’s time to bring some of the medicine I have experienced forward.

There is so much on my heart that I have to share with you. But for now I leave you with this.

Home is so much more than a person, place or thing. It’s more than a memory, a dream, a longing. Home is what you carry with you in your one beautiful heart. Come home to that first, and the rest will find you.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @marshandmoon1and Facebook Marsh and Moon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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The Passage

It’s been nearly 2 years since I sat in the quiet living room of the old house and listened to the story of my betrayal. I watched the sun disappear behind clouds of grief and unbelief. And my world went dark in an instant.

And in the remembering, I’m taken back to those initial moments. Those early days and months when all I felt was despair, grief, and sadness. Tears were a near constant companion. I remember laying on the floor, not wanting to go on.

When I compare that woman to who I am today, I can hardly believe that it’s the same person. But I believe that the only reason I’m where I am today is because I fully stepped into the grief. I didn’t bypass it. Spiritualize it. Try to explain it away as a part of God’s plan for my life. Instead, I full stepped into the grief and allowed myself to stay there for as long as I needed.

Grief as a passage

We live in a culture that has all but done away with grief rituals. We learn instead to hide what we feel. To put on masks and go out into the world as if nothing has happened. It’s no wonder so many people remain sad and miserable. Suffering from depression that never seems to go away. You cannot get to the other side if you don’t first walk through the passage of grief.

For me, I had to fully step into the grief and feel it all. And while I wrestled for months, trying to decide what to do, I learned to live with the questions and the loss. Made that in-between place of confusion and loss my home for a while.

I found things that soothed me and stayed close to them. Got out into nature every day that the weather permitted. I talked to trees and cried with the creek. Let the sunshine touch my face. Met every sunrise with a cup of steaming coffee and hunted for sea shells. I picked up a pen and I wrote and wrote and wrote. Pouring out my soul in private journals and sharing glimpses of the journey with all of you. Continued my mediation practice and moved my body with yoga. And I nourished myself with home-cooked meals made from scratch. Using raw ingredients from Mother Earth and turned them into plates of nourishment.

And then one day, I just knew. I knew what I wanted. I was terrified and relieved at the same time. But mostly relieved. As soon as I started taking one step forward, more steps appeared with startling clarity. And my grief, sadness, and depression were gone. Not saying I never felt them again because it still comes and goes at times. But the overall sense of the grief and loss were gone.

The steps to fleshing out that plan and building the new life I wanted were not easy. But watching the pieces fall into place bit by bit once I bravely embraced the new path has been astonishingly beautiful.

the other side of grief

I fully stepped into grief, as a passage, and now I find myself on the other side. Where I’ve built a new and beautiful life. Today I own a beautiful home that hums with healing energy. It’s surrounded by grass and trees, filled with plants and gifts from Mother Earth. It reflects who I am in ways no other home has done. It’s near the beach and I walk the shores frequently, sand crunching beneath my feet while the waves rush to kiss my toes. This place is full of sunshine and warm days, palm trees, and friendly folks who say “y’all.” My kids come to see me often. And while I miss seeing them frequently, the time we now spend together is so special.

I’ve met someone with a most beautiful heart, who sees me in ways I’ve never been seen before. My nervous system is relaxed with him and I know I am home.

Some folks look at me thriving and tell me I’m blessed. And while this is true, I can also say with surety that it didn’t just happen. I made choices. Took risks and put in the work. I knew with clarity what kind of life I wanted and then I set out to build it. It hasn’t been easy but it has been worth it.

Grief is inevitable because loss is a part of the human experience. It’s what we do with that grief that makes all the difference in what kind of life we will have moving forward. Unprocessed or unacknowledged grief can come out as trauma responses, hurting ourselves and those around us. Getting stuck in grief can lead to depression and anxiety. But moving through grief, as a passage, makes it possible to someday emerge on the other side and build the life your heart is pulling you towards.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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Two Things

I was talking with a friend recently about her husband’s betrayal and realized again how two things can be true at the same time. I don’t know if you have ever experienced this type of betrayal or not. But if you have, perhaps you felt like I did. That you must not have truly been loved. Or valued.

For me, the betrayal made me question everything good that I had ever believed we had in the relationship. Made me doubt that I had ever been loved. Made all the good memories nearly unbelievable. Undermined every single aspect of our relationship.

But somewhere along the way, I had the realization that two things can be true at the same time. You can be truly loved by someone and betrayed by them. Your partner can be genuinely attracted to you and attracted to someone else at the same time.

two things can be true at the same time

We are not all wired the same way. For some of us, this concept just does not make sense. And we would rather cheat on our own self then cheat on our partner. We find it more palatable to sacrifice pieces of our own self and our happiness, rather than disappoint or hurt the other person.

Which leads to another hard truth that I have had to admit to myself.

I cheated on my self before I was ever cheated on.

cheating on myself

Let me say that again for all those in the back who didn’t catch it the first time.

I cheated on my self before I was ever cheated on.

What I mean by this is that I was not true to my own self long before my partner was not true to me. Looking back from this vantage point, it’s so easy to see. How many times I sacrificed good and necessary parts of myself because I wanted to make my partner happy. Wanted him to have a life where he could thrive. Because I believed that love and sacrifice were synonymous. That love cost everything and was, in many ways, painful.

Which leads down a rabbit hole of religious trauma and a god who brings pain and asks so much of me that I loose my will to live. But we are not going down that rabbit hole today.

My point is, I betrayed myself before I was betrayed. Because I thought that is what love it about. Completely abandoning myself for the sake of another. And in reconciling all of these painful truths, I realized that two things can be true at once.

duality

He cheated on me and broke my heart. And I cheated on myself.

He betrayed me. And he loved me.

He wanted to be with me. And he wanted to be with someone else.

He was with someone else. And it had nothing to do with any lack within me.

The list could go on and on. But I hope you get the point. And, if you are struggling with a betrayal of some kind, I hope it is helpful to you to realize that two things can be true at the same time.

It has helped me to let go. Relax the corners of my mind that like to hold on to certainty and logic. That fixate on one aspect and cannot see anything else. I’m learning to relax into the flow of life instead. Without having to understand everything. Or control outcomes. Because my new vantage point has given me the beautiful perspective of a new start. One that has given me the opportunity to build a life that is true to who I am. One where I am committed to never betraying my self again. A life that is true to the core of who I am. So I can be all I am meant to be

So I acknowledge the strange duality that has made itself known to me. While relaxing into the ancient wisdom of my body and learning new ways of being in the world. Handcrafting a life that honors all the things this body craves and needs to flourish.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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The Gift

Perhaps the most beautiful thing that comes from having your life completely shattered is the chance to rebuild. Weaving together people and places, values and practices, with deep intention. In many ways, I feel like I have truly been born again. At 50, I’ve been given a chance to create something I was not ready to create all those decades ago when I thought I had all the answers.


The gift of starting over was not always seen as a gift. Nor has it been easy. But after the ashes settled and the tears dried, I came to realize that there is something incredibly beautiful and powerful about choosing the life you want. Crafting it with deep intention. I’ve come to realize how powerful the mind is. And how much I have limited myself in the past. By defining my worth based on the reality I perceived rather than defining my reality by the things I know deep within my psyche.

you can do hard things


When my kids were younger and would come to me, complaining about something difficult in their lives – usually some task I had asked them to do that they did not want to do – I would agree with them. Yes, it’s hard. But then I would remind them of this. You can do hard things.


You see, the things we tell ourselves are powerful. And with our beliefs and our words, we can either put obstacles in our own path. Or we can clear the path for ourselves. Or create a new path around the obstacles. For better or worse, our words and beliefs can become self-fulfilling prophecies.


For example, if I tell myself something is going to be hard, it will most certainly be hard. But if I change the narrative and remind myself that I can do hard things, I am much better equipped to face the challenge head on and emerge feeling better about myself than before.

keeping it real


One area where this is currently showing up in my life is on the dating apps. So yes, to all of you who have been wondering, I am putting myself out there again. And I can affirm that every time I have complained that the dating apps suck, they suck even more. On the other hand, when I have truly believed in my own worth, some pretty interesting things tend to unfold.

While I’m sure you would love to know all the juicy details, for now I will tell you that I am learning a lot. And having fun in the process. I may or may not meet the man of my dreams on an app. But one thing I know for sure is that every conversation I have. Every person I meet up with. Is all a part of a beautiful exchange that is teaching me so much. About myself. About the kind of person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Giving me a chance to practice speaking up for myself. Setting boundaries. Stepping even more fully into my power.


Oh I’m collecting some pretty good stories along the way and perhaps one day I will regale you with them. I’ve also had my heart broken and felt old wounds ripped open again. But I’m standing taller than ever before. Because I know myself even better than I did before these stories unfolded in my life.


I met myself in 2023. And it was glorious. Life changing. And I am done giving my heart away for crumbs of affection. I’m holding out for the whole damn feast. There are no failed relationships. Only stepping stones to a better one.

unleash your power


So is it hard putting yourself out there again at 50? Hell yeah. But I can do hard things, and so can you. It’s scary, but that means I get to practice being brave. It’s also fun, beautiful, and empowering. And I get to meet so many interesting humans.


For those of you who find yourself in a situation that you know is not right for you, but you are too scared to leave, let me remind you of this. Darling, you can do hard things. Life is too short to survive on crumbs when you could have a feast. And you have all that it takes to get yourself out of your stuck place. The resources for that glorious feast are all around you. Break out of the prison you’ve let yourself be trapped in, for the key is already in your hand. Unclench your fists and breath in the love that has never and will never let you go.


Then live. Like never before. With intention. Clarity. Purpose. Unleash the power of your mind by believing in your worth. Never settle for crumbs when there is an entire feast waiting for you. Believe.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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Ending Well

We all know by now that relationships are hard and messy. They require a lot of work and effort. When they blow up or don’t work out, it’s easier to just exit quickly and never look back. Ending well is difficult. Those months in between the time I found out about the cheating and our divorce were long and hard. Yet, when the morning of our final hearing dawned, we sat together outside the magistrate’s office, waiting our turn. Talking and laughing like old friends. Because somehow, in spite of all that had transpired, we were still friends. In fact, after it was all said and done, we tried to take a photo of the two of us with angry faces. But we ended up laughing every time. Not because our ending was funny. For it was not. But because we had found a way to hold on to friendship.

Not everyone gets to experience this. Both parties have to be willing to do the hard work of ending well. I’m very grateful that Austin was willing to show up for this process. And while I don’t have a concise how-to list for you, there are a few things I have learned from our journey that I want to share with you. They may or may not apply to your story. Take what is helpful and leave the rest.

forgiveness

I wrote briefly about forgiveness in an earlier post. For me, this had to happen before the answer of whether or not to stay in the marriage became clear to me. And I think the timing was profound. It may not work this way for everyone, but the answer did not come to me until I realized I had forgiven him.

I wish I could give you steps on how to make this happen. But I cannot. I have struggled my whole life to forgive those who hurt me. It is not something that comes easily for me. I have a strong sense of justice and fairness. And this was anything but fair.

I do know that time away helped. As did talking to my amazing therapist and friends. But I had to face a whole lot of darkness on my own. Not bypassing it by “giving it to the Lord” or choosing to immediately say I forgive. Spiritual bypassing is a harmful practice, in my opinion. Rather, I completely entered the darkness. Sat with it. Listened to my anger. Let it move through me. I went on long walks and let Mother Nature help carry my pain. I foraged for Turkey Tail Mushrooms, brewed tea and gave my body plant medicine. Instead of focusing on forgiveness, I focused on fully facing my pain and finding ways to heal. And then the forgiveness came.

And after the forgiveness came, my body and mind were in alignment and I knew what I needed to do.

Letting go

Ending well is only possible if you are able to let go. Let go of regrets. Let go of the other person. And let go of the future you thought you were going to have. That’s a whole lot of letting go. And it’s not easy. But you can approach it as a practice. A new habit that you are trying on, that gets easier the more you practice it.

It helps to have a trusted friend to talk to. Writing can also be a good way to put feelings into words and let them out. Just don’t make your soon-to-be ex the person you process this with. Not that you should never talk with them about it. But just make sure they are not bearing your disappointments on top of navigating their own.

Agreements

It’s so important to have clear short-term agreements. From lodging to money, kids to pets. You will be spending a lot of time sorting through big agreements if you are filing for divorce. But the time in between is important too. So take some time to think about what you will need and then ask for it. Maybe you need him to move out but come by in the evenings to help with the kids or give you a night to hang out with a friend. Maybe you need her to come to a therapy session with you. Perhaps you want to set aside part of every weekend to start going through the house and dividing up assets.

Take time for those difficult conversations. Don’t make assumptions. Do you still expect the other person to be monogamous? Who is going to make the house payment? What kind of boundaries do you need for your own sanity?

Think forward

One of the things that helped me the most was to picture us at Christmas a few years down the road. To really envision what I wanted us to look like. What I saw was a big happy blended family. The kids and their partners. Both of us with new partners. All of us around a big table loaded with good food, holding our bellies in laughter. That image kept me going in so many ways. Motivated me to navigate the present so that we would all want to be in the same room again someday.

We’ve not been perfect parents. Didn’t raise a perfect family. But there was always so much love and that doesn’t change with a divorce. The kids are still so important to us and I want us to always be able to laugh together. We get to define what family looks like. It’s not just flesh and blood.

One of the last pieces of furniture I bought for my new home was a table and chairs. It had to be special. Had to be big enough. Had to have a special feeling to it.

And I found just what I was looking for. I sit at it now, three times a day. Alone. And I soak up the quiet around me. I cook for myself a couple times a week and eat lots of leftovers. Some days it’s a little too quiet and I miss what we had. But the beautiful thing about ending as friends is that we can still be family. And that is more important to me than pushing for the highest dollar amount I could get in a settlement or holding on to any regrets or even trying to control his future.

My marriage is done. That chapter is completely closed and I am okay with that. But I rather love our quirky little family. And it’s not done growing yet. The table I bought has a leaf that I removed. Stored in my little laundry closet. Someday the kids and the grand kids and all their grandparents will sit around the extended table. And we’ll spill some curry as we listen to the latest escapades. And laugh till we cry while we wait for the apple dumplings to cool. We’ll remember what we once were. And we will have no regrets about what we have become.

For more tips on how to end well, I highly recommend Conscious Uncoupling by Katherine Woodward Thomas.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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Sparkles in My Pocket

I love the early morning quiet. The sky barely awake, slowly dipping a toe out from under the covers of night to let the first rays of pink softly peak through. This morning I was the only person visible for a good half mile. Bare toes kissing the sleepy sand beneath my feet under the Quarter Moon sky.

These early morning rituals keep me grounded. Remind me of my place of belonging in the glorious scheme of life. And of my power to create the life I desire to have.

Perhaps I needed my life to completely break apart in order to fully realize that I don’t have to keep following the scripts that were once handed to me. Scripts that were intended to keep a system alive and well. But had very little to do with keeping me alive and well. I see that now.

Yet I have no regrets for the life I have lived to this point. And I have embraced the shattering that came to me because it brought me things I didn’t even know I needed.

shifting

This blog began as the story of my life as wife of a bi guy. And while that is no longer the platform of my life, it is still true that I once was the wife of a bi guy. And like the beautiful bits of shells that inevitably make their way into my pockets when I walk the beach, the past 25 years have left me with pockets full of sparkles. There are still so many words left for me to weave together so here we are. Starting anew in some ways.

I’m still here and I don’t need to be married to have legitimacy or a voice. I’ve laid down that script. And if you have followed my blog for the past few years, you will know I’ve been on a journey of self-realization. I’ve discovered my worth, while navigating the feelings of not being enough.

So now that the boxes are all unpacked and this house in Georgia has turned into home, let me pull out one of the sparkles in my pocket to share with you.

loss

There is much about uncoupling that I hope to eventually write about. But for now, I want to encourage you if you are sitting in a place of questions, filled with uncertainty and loss. Hang on. This is normal. Inevitable. It is a season and you get to set the tone for it.

Loss hollows us out with its sharp and cruel edges, carving huge chunks out of us. Our natural response is to try and fill that void. Anything so we don’t have to feel that pain and emptiness. The harder path here, is that of listening to the pain. Sitting in the void. Acknowledging and bearing witness to it.

Unclench your hands and hold them over your heart instead. Let your palms listen to your heartbeat and remember that life is pulsing through you. Feed your soul instead of working yourself into a frenzy trying to stop the pain and fill the void. Don’t avoid the questions, for they are your roadmap to a place where you will be able to breathe more deeply and see clearly again.

The void always has a gift, if only we are willing to still ourselves long enough. Be brave enough to fully face it. Quiet enough to really listen. For in the center of the loss, there is a piece of you. The you that you will be when this is over. If you run from this loss, fill the void with glitter to distract or numb, you will miss ever meeting that glorious piece of you.

I see the sparkle that you will be again someday. Steady on, dear one. You got this.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

Posted on by palmtreemomma

Re-shaping

a family that is re-shaping itself

Twenty five years ago we spent the day smiling for photos, saying “I do”, serving burritos and six different flavors of homemade cake to our guests. The day was full of funny stories, delicious flavors and our favorite people. We walked out to our borrowed car at the end of the day, jaws aching from smiling so much. Sure that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

Today we spent the day sorting through our attic, dividing up mementos from these last twenty five years. We laughed at some of the silly things we saved and shared many “remember when” stories. It was bittersweet. When I opened the box of Christmas decorations and pulled out the handmade Kantha stockings that represent each person in our family, I fell apart for a bit. All the love we have in this wild and wonderful family came rushing in and it’s hard to imagine this change.

But this change does not make us a broken family. We are just a family that is re-shaping itself. This doesn’t mean we failed. Or fell short. We both poured our hearts into this beautiful family. And have no regrets. Instead we hold so much love and gratitude for what we’ve had and will continue to have. Just in re-shaped ways.

crumbling

Each of us will have moments in life where the things we have built will crumble in one way or the other. Crumbling doesn’t mean failure. It’s not the end of the world, even though it may feel like it for a long time. Crumbling, while incredibly painful, is also a gift. It is the opportunity to re-shape our life. To discard ways of being that have not served us well. And to build again in ways that honor the deepest, truest parts of ourselves.

Twenty five years ago, we built a life together using the tools we had. We did the best we could and crafted so much beauty and joy. But we have learned so much about ourselves along the way. Faced our own deep pain and traumas. Given each other a safe place to heal. And the healing we have found has changed us each in ways we could not have imagined. We are not the same people that said “I do” twenty five years ago.

If we had remained the same people that we were when we started this journey, we would have failed. Success is not a state of being; it is being present in the journey of wholeness. It is staying with the journey, not an ideal. And our journey has brought us to a place where our paths are separating.

bittersweet

The past couple of weeks have been full of practical steps towards this separation. We agreed on an attorney and filled out paperwork to start the legal process of divorce. We’ve started the task of physically going through the house and dividing up things. I’m looking at houses in a place I have wanted to move to for a very long time. We’re figuring out how to keep running our business and so much more.

It’s a time of both sadness and happiness. A time of remembering and looking ahead. It’s full of feelings and emotions, laughter and tears. It’s bittersweet in the best of ways.

I never imagined that this would be me. But the life I imagined didn’t turn out the way I expected so now I get to re-imagine. Relocate. Rebuild. In so many ways, my worst fears have been realized. And I didn’t die like I thought I would. I’m still here. Stronger and healthier than I’ve ever been before.

Don’t be afraid of the crumbling. Re-shaping your life might end up being the best gift you could receive.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

Posted on by palmtreemomma

Tomb or Womb

There’s a heaping pile of pressure on women in patriarchal cultures. Many of us learn from early childhood, to clean up messes we did not make. As quickly and quietly as possible. Trauma has caused some of us to even anticipate those messes. Metaphorically speaking, we walk about on our tiptoes, broom and dustpan in hand. Waiting and ready for the next mess. We never allow ourselves to live our own lives. Instead we focus on keeping things neat and tidy for everyone else.


This pressure is magnified in subcultures, such as the Conservative Mennonite culture I was raised in. It’s been some time since I left that culture. Yet, like a tattoo on my shoulder, it’s never completely left me. And that’s not all bad. There has been much good to come out of my upbringing. But in times like the present, I feel a hundred pairs of eyes looking at me. Expecting me to do what I was taught. To swallow my feelings and forgive my husband and throw all my efforts into saving this marriage.


There’s no space for the necessary in-between. The dark, ugly, messy, UN-knowing space. Where one can’t see the end. Where it’s so dark you can’t see a thing at all. Not even your own hands waving in front of your face. You can only feel what you feel. Where you give yourself permission to forget about the end result. And you breathe in the air of the darkness around you until you realize you’re in a womb, not a tomb.

The Womb

I feel like I'm being born again
This awful infidelity
giving me
a fresh start.
A chance to create
the life I want. 
Set my own terms.
Burrow into all the
cracks and crevices
of my tired
worn out life. 
Find all the things
that no longer serve.
Give them a boot
kick them out the door. 
Yes it's painful to see
these ashes.
But they speak to me
of new beginnings.
And I get to choose
my path forward. 
Carve a place
that has room for 
all of me.


This obsession with rushing to get things back to picture-perfect normal is killing us. It’s not life-giving or loving in the least bit. Cleaning up messes we did not make, serves no one but those in power. Rushing to forgiveness so that the other person can come home to you, means you may never get to truly come home to yourself. Quickly fixing things to make the other person comfortable means you may never truly be comfortable again.

Learning to be okay with a period of uncertainty and ambiguity is proving to be life saving for me. It’s giving me a much needed pause from the way my life has been. Allowing me to rest and be. Simply be.

And as I rest, realizations come to me. Rising slowly to the surface where I can sift and sort through. See with clear eyes the things that no longer serve me. Knowing deep in my core that as I learn to fully come home to myself, the rest will eventually fall into place.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.