The current dropping temperatures and howling wind remind me of winter as a kid. I would take my favorite Christmas catalog and set a cushion or pillow by the heater vent on the floor (old Northern houses), and I would bring a blanket and get cozy and read. Every girl or doll had a story. I created all sorts of stories in my head. I would cut them out and create little booklets and slip the pages into those plastic slip covers that made it look glossy. (Bless my parents for never rationing my computer paper stash. While they printed, I was out here making snowflakes and fake tabloids.)
Maybe twice, I snuck up to the attic at my great aunt’s house. An old old house in Michigan. I still don’t know what that attic looked like, properly lit. It was intensely dark. I would tiptoe until I reached a point of incredible darkness. I was sure that past that point one would fall through the floor into the wall of the house or into some abyss. It felt like the end of the flat earth to me. Beyond that point was free fall. I would tiptoe around hearing the faint noise of a Chicago Bulls game downstairs and voices talking. It always remained a mystery. God only knows what that blueprint looked like. Maybe, it was just an optical illusion. Much of life is.
Sometimes, when I would wash the dishes propped up on my chair, I would peer around and any little light I saw counted for a wish. All you had to do was believe. (If you didn’t wish upon a star— I don’t know what to tell you. Try it sometime. Yes, I am a dreamer).
I adored all the string lights that would dangle from the houses. I loved the little lamps that lined the snowy paths up to the front doors. I loved seeing people’s Christmas trees through their foggy windows. I still do.
As someone who has realized they probably have an addiction to cortisol, the idea of wintering leaves me unsure of how to proceed. Winter invites us into a stillness. I tiptoe around this dark attic, wondering— if I don’t stop, will I fall off the floor into a pocket of the wall?
The winter darkness reminds us to not keep tiptoeing into the darkness but to gravitate toward the twinkling lights. They shine and dance for us. The little warm lights— they lead us home. Back to the cozy corner padded with blankets by the floor vent where the world disappears, and we stay enthralled with all the possibilities.
I think last night we saw the dance of the season on DWTS. It was a tango.
As I watched, I found it to be a beautiful reflection of my Latin culture.
Dances, I feel, reflect emotions and personalities. The jive is a peppy one. The waltz is majestic. I think dances like salsa are loud and joyful and reflect a contingent of the culture who is passionate like that. We all know those larger-than-life personalities. I know many.
I have to say that for being Hispanic, I don’t fall into that category. I am not loud. I am more on the serious, quiet side. But that doesn’t make those of us who are like that any less passionate. I think this dance depicted another type of passion. It wasn’t loud. It was serious and precise but burning the place down. I loved it. It was, if I use a word I have heard to describe me, “intense.”
The leg ganchos are everything. Daniella Karagach always brings it with her creativity. This one goes out to the intense, serious ones with the slow-burn passion.
At the age of twelve, the word “destiny” began to fascinate me. I think Billy Shakespeare did that to me. I began thinking about it in a nuanced way, intertwined with the idea that we all have free will and always have a choice. The word “destiny” then sort of was replaced by “purpose.”
I saw the trailer for the Napoleon movie. I must watch it. In my adolescence, Napoleon was someone who fascinated me (still does, who am I kidding?). As a true francophile, I read a lot about him. I remember I once sent in a question about him to a live Amazing Facts conference on Bible prophecy and world history.
Napoleon is flawed like any human who gasps this air we share, but what I have always found interesting about him was his sense of destiny. He was clear on who he was and where he was going. He was unstoppable. (The man kidnapped the pope, for crying out loud!)
I am drawn to people who feel purpose deeply, and I think it’s because I feel it, too. (Probably sounds odd, and no, I am not saying I am gonna leave some sort of footprint like Napoleon). This isn’t something we talk much about, and this morning, God nudged me to listen to a message. I needed to hear it. I heard words that I resonated with deeply because I believed and held them as my own personal belief even before I heard them from someone else. I was busy making tea, when I heard them spoken through my headphones, and I literally stopped in my tracks. I blinked. I smiled.
This mindset has been present for me in my own life, and I wanted to share this quote because I have never heard it articulated so beautifully. Leave it to Erwin McManus to do that.
I believe the Creator has instilled in each of us a sense of purpose. I think in scripture it is clear that many were born with a specific purpose– look at the prophets and kings. And then, you have stories of those who run from their purpose. Look at Samson, Jonah…
You have a story like Saul, when he runs into Jesus and is converted to Paul. This changed the course of his entire life. If we are humble and willing, if we don’t run and waste the purpose, God finds us and transforms us to do His great works, and often, that changes history.
The quote below explains my magnetism to McManus. This common thread sews us together. I once did a Bible study based on his book Wide Awake, and I got feedback that a lot of people didn’t connect to it. Be real; life isn’t this grand or dreamy, I was told. But the life of the author says otherwise.
It’s tough to articulate this knowledge because you can end up sounding downright delusional, but this has been the best way I have seen how:
[This quote is transcribed from the Mind Shift Masterclass by Erwin McManus.]
“I had an insane sense of destiny.
I’m making $10-12,000 a year. Kim and I are sleeping on the floor when we were first married. No one saw any potential or talent or gifting in me. I didn’t talk about it out loud because it would be arrogant. I didn’t talk about it out loud because it would seem like I was detached from reality.
I had an insane sense of destiny.
I believed that I was put on this planet to make a difference; to leave a mark in human history. I believed that God called me out to do something that was gonna be breathtaking, extraordinary, unexplicable, and I carried it every day in my heart.
So, here I was living the most seemingly insignificant life. Didn’t matter ’cause it wasn’t insignificant because I was on a journey. It’s not something you really talk about because it seems so inappropriate, but you couldn’t take that away from me. I believed I was created to do something that mattered in the world.
No one else is responsible to help me fulfill my destiny– that was on me. There was this tension of destiny, of calling, to do something God called me to but of personal responsibility, ownership. That this is something I have to create from personal responsibility and agency.
You have to make the decision that you are going to live your life as if you are unstoppable.”
I carry it in my heart every day, too. I hope you do, too. Be unstoppable.
We near the end of this year. This morning, I came across the words, “Courage, dear heart,” written by C.S. Lewis. Those words came to mean something so much more profound to me this year. I read and held onto them before one of the darkest seasons of my own personal experience. I had no idea the grief and pain that was around the corner, and yet God was already whispering to me, “courage.” I recorded those words and thoughts here. And then, again here.
Even before that, the phrase that came to me in January of 2023 was “Arise.” I wrote about it here. The song that reflects on Lazarus’ rising from the dead (by CAIN) was on my heart. I didn’t understand it in the way I do now. I had no idea what the year had in store. Few of us did. As I look back now (hindsight is always fascinating), I realize God speaks to us and prepares us for what He knows is ahead, as we unknowingly wander in. As Pastor Shane said today, that is the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit guides us to all truth and tells us what is to come. (John 16:13)
At the beginning of 2023, I didn’t know I was going to go through a year of death. There was a quite literal death and deep loss experienced with the loss of my father-in-law, who I absolutely adore. And following that, came a confusion that only people who have been plunged into a deep grief recognize. A fog. A confusion. A standstill. A pain, later followed by many tiny personal deaths.
I was only half jokingly remarking to someone close to me that this year was cursed. I am not so sure I am sad to see it go. It left me feeling stripped, with loss touching almost every aspect of my life.
And yet, I am writing to you here. I am in a much better place. A lot of us are. I feel like a different person. A lot of us are. There are moments where life irreversibly changes. Like burning paper. A chemical reaction occurs, and you can’t go back. This was one of those “burning paper” years. (I see myself in high school chemistry burning paper on a Bunsen burner). So, while I may say it was cursed, as I have learned through coaching, there is always joy that can be found in pain.
“If you are passionate about something, you will suffer for it,” Pastor Shane said today. There is something about being relentless through pain. Despite it being a face-numbing year, I felt God’s presence in the darkness. I met a remarkable woman this month at a community event, and while we hadn’t hit a religious note in our conversation, I surprised myself when I blurted out that life brings us a certain darkness. Certain, meaning, it touches us all-guaranteed. We can’t evade it. Yet, I know we are never alone, I explained. This woman, who had undergone volumes of suffering I have never been touched by, told me she knew it for certain, too. We are never alone. God is with us. God also heals us as we spend time in His presence. A scripture that brought tears to my eyes recently was, “His banner over me is love.” Song of Solomon 2:4
I wrote on January 15, 2023 (in Rise), “May you allow Him to make you truly alive. […] Life is hope. There is no room for despair. Arise.” And I still feel that in my bones. I had no idea how deeply I would need those words. How many of us would.
“Faith changes the end of the story. Always. There is no exception. No exceptions. That is something I feel in my very depth.” (Rise)
Debra Fileta wrote something I so resonate with. She wrote, “The best way I know to describe the heavy burden of grief and loss is to say that the load itself never gets lighter– but you get stronger.” After everything– I can say I feel stronger.
To circle back to C.S. Lewis’ Aslan and Lucy:
“Aslan” said Lucy “you’re bigger”. “That is because you are older, little one” answered he. “Not because you are?” “I am not. But every year you grow, you will find me bigger.”
I feel a strength that comes from finding Him bigger. He continues to show up in my life, and as I get older, I see just how grand He truly is.
This year is almost gone. We have two months that I know will fly by. As I journal and reflect over a year that has felt like a decade of change, I want to circle back to my year’s word, rise.
When He said your name The thing that filled your veins Was more than blood It’s the kind of love That washes sin away Now the door is open wide The stones been rolled aside The old is gone The Light has come So come on and
Come on and rise up Take a breath, you’re alive now Can’t you hear the voice of Jesus calling us Out from the grave like Lazarus You’re brand new The power of death couldn’t hold you Can’t you hear the voice of Jesus calling us Out from the grave like Lazarus Rise up, like Lazarus
Yesterday, I saw a discount Harry Potter posing for photos in the dark and another full grown man in his mid-thirties in a Spiderman suit. An elderly man wearing black rollerbladed across the West Side Highway in the dark with his arms up. A dog skateboarded in Union Square. The Brooklyn Bridge was shut down because of protests. A man in one of those bike rickshaws decided to plunge his patrons into the unending traffic as he charged per minute (he ain’t no fool). Welcome to Manhattan in October 2023.
The month of October is often filled with delightful things and nature’s glorious scenes. The tiny skinny leaves have turned yellow and are carpeting the sidewalks. Some trees remain green in the background, still confused with the weather and fluctuating temperatures.
Yesterday was a summer day, and today, it is rainy and cool, and a perfect day to watch Frasier or Just Shoot Me!. I have candles lit and the playlist Autumn Jazz playing in the background.
The apples are ripe and delicious. I have a nice plate of them on my table, minus the smaller one that weirdly exploded in the sack. I learned, this year, that there are more than 7,000 varieties of apples. One of the most interesting names I heard was the King David apple. Speaking of King David, the attacks on Israel this month has shocked many of us to our cores. The violence on civilians and also nonsensical hate everywhere made October a month of grief. And speaking of loss, we also lost Matthew Perry yesterday. The world can’t catch a break.
It has been a busy month. I have been doing a lot of recordings, videos, and prep for conferences and other things coming soon for Modern Witnesses, my passion project. Our gift guides there are dropping soon. I keep brainstorming around our gratitude challenge, and other fun upcoming things.
October… Traffic was wild. Pizza wait times were unheard of. Trader Joe’s looked like the hunger games.
I spend mornings and evenings trying to pick out gifts for those in my life. I have to say, this year, I am really at a loss as to what to get for people. Also, in the midst of so much tragedy in the world and the fact that the world is teetering on the edge of something– it feels like we have so much.
The month was so busy that I didn’t read as much as I usually do. I did finish Blackout by Candace Owens, which was excellent. It is one of those books that belongs in the permanent library.
I am excited to try Tasha Franken Studios pilates, this upcoming month. This week, I will get the opportunity to meet someone I have admired for a long time (years). I am taking very seriously the post of the month called Daring to be Alive.
Below are some of my favorites from the month. There are less quotes, as I read less, and more talks– the ones I listened to on a packed train on my way to the office. Happiest November. I have a feeling it will be a month that feels like a blur. I will be weaving in and out of different trials. The holidays are upon us! Time to read the almanac…
Quotes
“In a world of cortisol spikes, make feeling safe in your body a priority.” @theholisticvenus
“When we lie, we become unhealthy. When we believe a lie, we become unhealthy. When we live a lie, we become irreparably unhealthy because humans are designed for truth.” Erwin McManus
“Truth emerges out of trust, and trust emerges out of trustworthiness.” Erwin McManus
“There is no difference between communism and socialism, except the means of achieving the same ultimate end: communism proposes to enslave men by force, socialism –by vote.” Ayn Rand
“You know something is truth not because it is objective but because truth becomes a subjective transformational power that changes you.” Erwin McManus
“The only people I would care to be with now are artists and people who have suffered: those who know what beauty is and those who know what sorrow is. Nobody else interests me.” Oscar Wilde
“A writer is a world trapped inside a person.” Victor Hugo
This month, I started reading Mind Shift, and this accompanying series was fire:
This one was my favorite:
This tribute to Len Goodman made me cry:
People Who Intrigue Me
Chef Benny Rivera (of CityCakes)
Candace Owens
“November comes, and November goes. With the last red berries And the first white snows. With night coming early and dawn coming late, ice in the bucket and frost by the gate. The fires burn, and the kettles sing, And earth sinks to rest until next spring.”
Rest in peace, Matthew Perry. Friends was a big part of my childhood (and I think any 90s kid’s memories). Yesterday’s news made us all feel a pang in the chest and knot in our throat. It feels too soon. Thank you, Matthew, for all the laughs. Chandler and Monica were my favorite couple. I lived for their secret dates behind Ross’ back. 😂 #BingForever
There has been so much pain and heaviness this month. I have wanted to come close and write but have sort of been at a loss for words.
The attack on Israel on October 7 was horrific to watch. Hostages are still being held and away from their loved ones.
I could write a whole post about the things made evident in the past few weeks:
1) How language is manipulated and misused to control ideology;
2) How when you love something or someone, you strive to protect it;
3) How dehumanizing and othering people is still easy, and we aren’t too far from the 1940s (some people didn’t pay attention in history class, and it shows);
4) How U.S. citizens should be wary to travel because it is clear that if something happens, no one is coming to save you;
5) How weak (or nonexistent) leadership has consequences;
6) How words have consequences (see withdrawn job offers from openly antisemitic students);
7) How antisemitism is rampant and seen as something to aspire to (extra disturbing);
8) How people care more about feelings than fact;
9) How a chunk of America’s youth sympathizes with a terror group; and
10) How unprepared we are for what we have yet to experience (it will require a different level of resilience from us).
I could go into depth on each of these points, but I won’t. There is no lack of commentary and fear-mongering from all sides, including sometimes the church. We can see reality for what it is. All it takes are open eyes and honesty.
I read this week in Erwin McManus’ book Mind Shift about the show The Walking Dead. The idea of people surviving a zombie type invasion is amusing and fantastical and yet the metaphor is not lost on me. At the end, the people/survivors say, “We are the ones who live!”
I am drained by reality. I think we all are. And in the West, we have the privilege to step away and look away, if we so desire, even if the person next to us has made clear they would kill us given the opportunity.
The truth is that life’s harshness and reality will touch us all. In this country, I do feel like we think we are owed more and entitled to different, yet we fail to realize that all we have had that has been good and unique from this country has been a gift, not an entitlement. It is something that requires responsibility to hold onto. Work. Values. Virtue.
It is easy to lose one’s marbles and plunge into despair. The world has shown us a variety of ways to do it.
One of the most courageous things a person can do is live. Truly live. To live with joy, courage, hope and integrity. Contrary to popular belief, that is not easy, and it is not weak.
I was reminded of this while watching a tribute to Len Goodman. (RIP, Len). It was a moving ballroom dance. All I could think while watching was how much beauty was in every movement and extension. So much intentionality and grace. So much emotion in every face. What if we lived like that? What if we embraced beauty, emotion, intentionality and grace?
What if we lived in a way that reminded the world what it is like to be alive? To love? To create and cherish beauty? We aren’t wired for hate. It destroys us. We were made for truth.
What if we kept in mind how fleeting all this is? And as Scripture says, how all of this is but a drop and fleeting moment in the ocean of eternity?
What if instead of relying on other voices for security or instruction, we made it our passion to seek for ourselves and filter out the noise?
What if we lived? What if we trusted the only One who can be trusted? What if we decided to be the most courageous ones of all? To trust when it is all falling apart? To show beauty when despair and hate rules?
What if we decided that being truly human and our souls surviving this world’s atrocities was a sacred mission?
I ended September dressed like a storm chaser. I wore a poncho last weekend (bright blue, for those interested in fashion), and this Friday, I was one of the unfortunate souls to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge back home when the city canceled all train service due to flooding. I am grateful for my fitness level. Thank God I can walk for miles like a little wet rat.
You know how much I have been looking forward to October book releases. (If you missed it, find it here). I did read some magnificent books this month. Some in progress include Burning the Boats, 5 Practices of Highly Resilient People, Anne of Green Gables and A Memoir on the Craft of Writing (by Stephen King; THIS ONE SURPRISED ME. DON’T SLEEP ON IT).
The most transformative book of the month was Good Boundaries and Goodbyes by Lysa Terkeurst. A true gem. One of those books that is therapy in a book.
I had serendipity on my mind. It came to me randomly, and then, while doing the Arena coaching call, Erwin McManus started speaking about it. Left me with chills. We were on the same wave length.
via Pinterest
Speaking of Erwin– his message Leverage: I Appeal to Caesar was for me. I think it has been his best of 2023, so far. Including it, and some of my favorite quotes from it, below.
I made some pão de queijo, continued through my book course, and slept so well with the cool air coming in through the window.
Lastly, just yesterday, I saw the most breathtaking view of the Empire State Building. It’s light shimmering in the night. I saw an old familiar place I used to frequent years ago, while in law school. It was magical.
The autumn darkness brings sparkle. I hope it is a cozy and sparkling start to the season for you. Thank you for being here.
“You have to eliminate the options. You can’t become a settler; you have to become a pioneer. You have to decide you are going to go all the way through, no matter what it cost you– no matter what it takes.” Erwin R. McManus
“The divine does not allow our pain or dark nights to have the final say. Don’t rush the process. It takes time returning to yourself.” Vibrate Higher Daily
“Every time I have followed God to the edge, the people in the center didn’t like where I was going. I started this community so that you would be fearless as you follow Jesus. So that you would live a life that other people would not understand. So that you would know you have permission to be unique, to be courageous, to be creative. And that is how God created you.” Erwin R. McManus
“Keep a notebook. Travel with it, eat with it, sleep with it. Slap into it every stray thought that flutters up into your brain. Cheap paper is less perishable than gray matter, and lead pencil markings endure longer than memory.” Jack London, March 1903
“We have to quit with this comfort-zone behaviorism and get back to our innermost needs.” Wim Hof
“Ah, September! You are the doorway to the season that awakens my soul…” Peggy Toney Horton
“I want you to be the intersection of the sacred and the secular. I want you to be the person who appeals to Caesar, and people cannot figure you out. I want you to be the person who does what you do so great and so extraordinary, and with so much brilliance, creativity and genius that people come up to you and go, ‘What in God’s name got into you?’ And you can say, ‘You are exactly right; it’s that God got into me, and I cannot help but elevate to the highest level.'” Erwin R. McManus
“Don’t you love New York in the fall? it makes me want to buy school supplies.” You’ve Got Mail (1998)
Via Pinterest
“Adults inform. Children explain.” Jim Cress
“Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” F. Scott Fitzgerald
“If you’re my friend, I want to lose time with you, to spend a whole day, to get bored together to the point of laughter.” Garance Dore
“Wisdom comes with winters.” Oscar Wilde
“And all at once, summer collapsed into fall.” Oscar Wilde
“Life is not merely a series of meaningless accidents or coincidences. It’s a tapestry of events that culminate in an exquisite sublime plan.” Serendipity (2001)
“I am part of everything that I have read.” Theodore Roosevelt
“People spend a lot of time talking about other people’s bodies, gossiping about other people’s relationships, critiquing other people’s business, etc. Keep your eyes on your own paper. Work on your body. Nurture your relationships. Improve your business. We all have plenty to improve.” James Clear
“I don’t know what lies around the bend, but I’m going to believe that the best does.” Anne of Green Gables
“You cannot trust a person desperate for validation.” @Jessicaalixhesser
“The wars will end and the leaders will shake hands, and that old woman will remain waiting for her martyred son, and that girl will wait for her beloved husband, and the children will wait for their heoric father, I do not know who sold the homeland but I do know who paid the price.” Mhmoud Darwish, I think any war-torn country feels this deeply.
“Life with my parents and the other family members was natural and pleasant. Mutual support happened spontaneously and guaranteed the survival of people as well as of material and spiritual values. Until a few years ago, those bonds were so strong in the rural culture that they safeguarded ideals. The willingness to make sacrifices for others, to be able to wait for a reward, the devotion to work; for me, these are everlasting values. The joy of working together and sharing what was being produced turned work into a joyful liturgy, not a punishment. We all knew what was being done in the fields, in the garden, in the pastures, at home; planting, cultivating, raising children and helping parents. There was no wealth, but we were happy. And it makes me think: having enough is itself a form of wealth.” Brunello Cucinelli
“But we can’t enable bad behavior in ourselves and others and call it love. We can’t tolerate destructive patterns and call it love. And we can’t pride ourselves on being loyal and longsuffering in our relationships when it’s really perpetuating violations of what God says love is. Please hear me clearly say, the purpose of this book isn’t to quickly call out issues in others without looking honestly at ourselves as well. We need to examine our motivations and our mindsets.” Lysa Terkeurst
“Books hold most of the secrets of the world, most of the thoughts that men and women have had. And when you are reading a book, you and the author are alone together—just the two of you. A library is a good place to go when you feel unhappy, for there, in a book, you may find encouragement and comfort. A library is a good place to go when you feel bewildered or undecided, for there, in a book, you may have your question answered. Books are good company, in sad times and happy times, for books are people—people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book.” E.B. White
There’s a Russian saying that says something like, even the strongest piece of metal will break if it takes enough hits. Something like that. Do not quote me. I am not a Russian philosopher. This has had me thinking. The true virtue is not in being strong, but in being resilient. Resilient things/people don’t snap, they bend, and then, they fling themselves forward. Resilience is the virtue that tops strength. How can we cultivate resilience every day? I think the world needs more resilience. Most people freak out when normal life happens, never mind what happens when life goes into dark mode. The TSC podcast was hinting at the idea (and I agree) that if people read more, they would be more resilient. You know, your life wouldn’t seem as crappy after reading about a crew in the 1700s who survived shipwreck and typhoid fever. We need to read more history and nonfiction, not the fiction that rots the brain.
Yeah, these are the thoughts on my mind. I am eyeing my almanac. It’s time to read it and make a s’more or something.
-A Rainy Day in New York-
Happy first day of autumn. And just like that, NYC has decidedly gone in the direction of rustling leaves and drizzly rain. A perfect day to watch A Rainy Day in New York. A perfect day to live it.
A Rainy Day in New York gif via Tumblr
I am pretty sure I am gonna end up in a George W. Bush poncho tomorrow for the 5k.
#neverforget
The autumn vibes have been real. Rest was lacking last week, so I am trying to recharge this weekend today. I did some low impact pilates from MWH, and thought about curling up with a good book. #buildresilience
-A New Fact-
I was listening to Lauryn Bosstick who was saying that people should bring a new fact to dinner every day. It sounds old-fashioned, but I love this idea. It is an excellent way of inculcating the discipline of reading and learning into children and even adults. What new thing are you literally bringing to the table, each day? And if you aren’t, how can you change that?
-Autumn Inspiration-
Alex Riviere via Pinterest
Isn’t this Alex Rivière look wonderful? It just screams falls; and I love it. I leave you with this autumny outfit. The season is here! It has embraced us. It’s time to slow down, read and make every minute count. Everything is starting to die and darken outside, but the season reminds us of the beauty that comes with every new chapter.
It’s the autumn essentials, and by essentials, I of course mean books. It’s the season for cozy evenings and candle light. What will you be reading? What books are hitting my shelf this autumn? You don’t have to ask me twice…
Evergreen: Discover the Joy in Every Season
Lydia Millen’s favorite chapter to write was autumn, so how could we not read it in autumn? Very excited about this new release. Millen is the queen of seasonal living, and I am here for it. My mind will wander to her little village and her sausage dogs.
Mind Shift: It Doesn’t Take a Genius to Think Like One
I read everything Erwin R. McManus writes. The man is brilliant. Very excited about this book; his first venture into the business genre. (My favorite by him is The Last Arrow)
Be Useful: Seven Tools for Life
Schwarzenegger’s biography is my favorite. I am beyond excited to read this new book in October, when it releases. I don’t pre-order much, but I did pre-order these first three books mentioned. I am probably most excited about this one. (*giddy*)
Bright Star: Love Letters and Poems of John Keats to Fanny Brawne
Everyone needs poetry in autumn. It is essential for the soul. Give me a little Keats or Wordsworth, and my soul feels right.
Breath: The New Science of A Lost Art
I have heard a lot about this book, and I am ready to learn. I hope it expands on what I learned in the Wim Hof Method book.
GABRIELA YARELIZ 