Sometimes the answers we’ve been waiting for don’t whisper—they illuminate the path ahead.
The day I’m writing this would have been Mike’s 67th birthday.
Between May 29 and July 6, there are several milestones that make this a heavy season for me. It’s a stretch of days filled with memories of caregiving, loss, anniversaries, and goodbyes.
The bright spot is June 28. Exactly two years after Mike died, my first grandson was born. Life has a beautiful way of reminding us that endings and beginnings often share the same calendar.
This morning I found myself wandering down memory rabbit holes. Facebook reminded me it was Mike’s birthday, and before long I was rereading old posts. Only eight or nine weeks ago would have been our 40th wedding anniversary, and that post had already stirred memories I wasn’t expecting.
Sometimes memories arrive quietly. Sometimes they open a door.
More Than Open Doors
Last week I wrote about the mysterious doors in my house that kept opening on their own.
There was another mystery I hadn’t shared.
A small night light that normally sits—unplugged—in one of the guest bathrooms somehow ended up plugged into an outlet in that upstairs bedroom.
Mike was a farmer who spent some of his time working as an electrician. Because of that, whenever something unusual involving light happens, I can’t help wondering if it’s a message from him.
This one felt especially different.
Unlike the doors, my dog couldn’t have moved it. No one had been in the house. Somehow, the night light had traveled into the bedroom and been plugged in.
I couldn’t explain it.
The Message
A few weeks ago, while telling a colleague about the doors and the night light, she gently suggested, “Maybe you should go sit in that room and see what message comes.”
Today felt like the right day.
I walked upstairs to the bedroom whose door had been mysteriously opening. I burned sage to clear the space, brought clove oil with me as an invitation for Mike’s presence, plugged in the night light, and sat on the floor beside its soft glow.
I expected to sit there for a long time.
This time was different.
Almost immediately, tears filled my eyes.
Then I heard the words as clearly as if someone were sitting beside me.
“Get these rooms ready for retreat guests.”
When the Path Becomes Clear
“All was right with the world” when Mike was fishing.
I’ve dreamed of hosting retreats here ever since moving to this ranch.
I’ve imagined women finding rest, caregivers finding space to breathe, and people reconnecting with themselves—with the quiet wisdom of horses nearby.
Until today, it was a dream waiting for the right time.
Now it feels like a calling.
Sometimes guidance is subtle.
Sometimes it’s profound.
Sometimes it arrives through an unexpected design we could never have orchestrated ourselves.
And sometimes, it shines a light so brightly that we can no longer pretend we don’t know our next step.
Designing What’s Next
I’ve already created the budget.
The design for transforming these rooms is alive in my mind.
Now it’s time to move from vision to action.
The light has been switched on.
The vision is becoming clear.
Now it’s time to bring that design to life.
A Gentle Reflection
Perhaps there’s a light that’s been trying to get your attention.
Maybe it’s a quiet nudge you’ve been dismissing. Maybe it’s an idea that keeps returning. Or perhaps it’s a dream that’s been patiently waiting for you to believe it’s possible.
Sometimes the light is subtle.
Sometimes it’s profound.
Either way, it’s worth paying attention.
If you’re curious about the work I’m creating here, the retreats that are beginning to take shape, or how partnering with horses can illuminate your own path, I’d love to connect.
Click the button below to schedule a complimentary Zoom conversation. Together, let’s explore what might be lighting the way for you.
Every story needs a soundtrack.
This is the one I’ve chosen for this post—sometimes because of the title, sometimes the lyrics, sometimes simply the feeling it stirs in me.
