Notes in Darkness and Light

Another year is coming to a close.

I see the light peaking in from underneath the door. A hint of something new, like a wish turning over in its sleep, bedclothes rustling. The sound of awakening.

If you've been around in any of my spaces, you know I love nothing better than a fresh start. I've had to temper this desire over the years as it's had me abandoning creations before I got to the actual creating. Starting over is a practice that's served me well...in most cases. Thank goodness my recovery, the work I’ve done to take responsibility for my life and the choices I've made, offer clarity when shiny things are dangling in front of me. (Just to clarify, it’s ongoing work!)

2025 has been a real mixture of darkness and light.

I woke up at 6AM this morning. I've been waking up early with a head full of thoughts lately. The quietness of the morning and those first few sips of hot coffee helping me to organize them into things I need to do and things I want to do. My days, like most of you I am sure, are busy with work, family, errands and chores. As I write this, I feel a bit perturbed that these four things are taking up most of my time. I love my work and my family, of course. But as I move closer to an age that seems quite impossible to be creeping closer to, a feeling is growing in me.

Life is precious and fleeting.

I have an inkling that even if we live to 80 or 90 years old, it might still feel like we blinked and it was over. It’s said that time speeds up as you age and in my experience, it’s true. This age-old adage is for the most part, lost on the young. Perhaps that’s they way it should be. We are ready for truth when we are ready for truth.

Recovery and being a part of a recovery community has given me the opportunity to embrace and embody what is true for me. And the opportunity to dive, headfirst, into joy. Delicious delight, laughter, big-gushy-heart-beating-moments of bliss. Nothing needed to ignite or maintain this joy: just people and vibes, connection and the constant clearing away of old stories that only serve to dim the light. I’ve had plenty of joy in 2025.

Gathering with women, holding space for women has been deeply nourishing this year. Expand Beyond Recovery is growing, the roots of my creation are firmly planted. I am endlessly inspired by the courage and tenacity of recovering women. Even when we are holding on for dear life, we still show up!

Sunrise and cold-dipping in York Harbor, Maine

Sitting side by side with some of these dear people, looking out over the vast Costa Rican jungle, was sublime. Moving into the chilled waters of the Atlantic Ocean, arms and hearts linked as we braved the icy water and our own fear, is a memory I’ll cherish.

So many circles, listening and talking, nodding, eyes open and closed, hand on heart...sacred-making.

Loss and grief were sitting in circle too. I head into another holiday season feeling like an orphan, an outsider to a locked room reserved for families that are intact and “normal”. My parents gone and the very small, immediate family I do have, is half-away across the country. With a son who cannot be around more than two or three people at a time before becoming dysregulated and disruptive, my partner’s larger-family gatherings are an exercise in me dancing an intricate dance of when-to-stay and when-to-go, two-stepping gingerly around his capacity. Or I am simply standing at the door. As you might have guessed, this is NOT my favourite time of the year. That said, I understand my feelings now. I know where they’ve come from, how long this journey has been. I’m starting to simply welcome them as the weary travelers they are.

I’ve lost people this year – unexpectedly. I’ve been witness to close friends losing people, unexpectedly. Life at its most random. Part of my process in my year-end rituals (example, choosing a Word of the Year) is to reflect on the happenings that I did not see coming. The experiences I had NO IDEA I was in for.

Because we can plan all we like for all the plans we are making, but we cannot dodge the unknown. We don’t know what life will hand us in this next year…or three or 10. I try to reserve some room for that…some space and some mobility. I try to keep hope alive and the embers burning, remembering that anything can happen and the skill of mastering "tunnel vision" will never change that.

My son is turning 21, needs a residential placement that has a wait list of 10 years or will cost a hundred thousand dollars.

I’ve had my townhouse listed for three months now (I'm paying for two homes and an office space) and it’s been sold and rented a few times. The deals keep falling through.

People I love are hurting and navigating life-altering experiences.

And yet…

The morning sun is lighting up the tree in my backyard and it looks like a sculpture. I see blue sky in the distance.

The quiet in my house is still quiet and my coffee is still warm.

I am writing and it feels better than sleeping.

As I look out and beyond this moment, I know good and bad things will happen.

The darkness and the light. I can hold and handle both.

We can hold and handle both.

I want to express my gratitude and reach out to you with a energetic hug…thank you for being here in this space with me this year. If I am growing, I know you are too. In a world of so much uncertainty, our collective healing, growth and expansion...the impact it is and will have is certain. I know that.

Wishing you a peaceful end to 2025. May there be moments of sacred darkness and moments of nourishing lightness, and may we navigate them both, with grace. And may the universe continue to shine upon our path.

Love,

Payton