This is a place built from borrowed light. Ideas spoken, written, and lived by others. Ideas that have been run through my own lens of losses and joys that have come out the other side shaped a little differently.

Some ways of thinking arrive and stick to your soul. They settle into you quietly, and then, without warning, something shifts. Think of Notes from the Nest as a curation of what I want to share. A life spent listening: to books, to light holders, to strangers, to friends, to hard moments, to quiet ones and most importantly to myself.

If anything here reminds you, even briefly, of your own brightness or can contribute to your own path, then this was worth writing. If something speaks to you, please carry it with you. If it doesn't, move on without guilt.

A nest is made of many things: some gathered with intention, some stumbled upon, some borrowed, some barely worth keeping. And yet, woven together, it holds. Much like our homes, our friendships, our thoughts and our bodies, but none of these things are actually who we are. There is much more there.

Here is what I have gathered along the way. Books I've underlined. Podcasts that arrived at exactly the right moment. Friendships that have carried me through rites of passage. Relationships that taught me things I didn't ask to learn. Positions I've held that gave me skills I never expected to need. The thoughts I hope to share here have all passed through me. The best ones are the ones that left a scar.

This is my attempt to share those scars, mostly with a small group of people I love, timed to a birthday that feels important.

It is so easy to follow what is popular, what is safe, what is expected. It is easy to put on a mask and try to fit the mold. We have parts of ourselves that want to protect us, and those parts do a very good job. But I find myself asking: what are they protecting us from? Saying the wrong thing? Embarrassment? Being ostracized? Perhaps even something deeper than that? These are questions worth sitting with.

I am slowly learning to speak, act, and experience from my passions. I am still very much an amateur explorer, but there have been moments, sitting in the silence of the pause, when something has landed. And these are the things I want to write about. The moments when something resonates so deeply that I knew, without being able to explain it, that it is true… because it just had to be!

I have come to believe that we are here to miss the mark. We all have free will, and that is the whole point of being human. We are here to make mistakes and to learn from them.

There is a part of me that would protect me from doing this. That part says: don't do this, nobody wants to hear what you have to say. But I am doing it anyway. Because when I put pen to paper I can sort through my thoughts and explore what I love. This is for me first. And if something resonates with even one person I love, that is more than enough.

The biggest regret people carry to their deathbeds, again and again, is that they didn't live an authentic life. This is my small effort to bring forward the things that have felt authentic to me. It is intellectually scary, but it also feels a little like an adventure.

You will not find a predictable publishing schedule. This is a creative pursuit built on love for myself, love for my friends, and perhaps a small field guide for the things I would like to remember. There will be imperfection. I am fumbling through this life just like everyone else.

What I do believe is that there are universal truths that can help us navigate life's path… that so many voices, across so many traditions and lineages, are all pointing in the same direction. That consistency is exactly what led me to starting Notes from the Nest.

This is not a polished media property. It is not a brand. It is a nest: imperfect, assembled from what I have gathered, home to something that is still becoming.

My hope is that these posts carry small feathers of wisdom. That they point to thoughts, ideas and experiences that might resonate for someone else. That they create a little more permission, for you and for me, to live just a little bit differently.

After all, I need to make use of this English major.

Welcome. I'm glad you're here.