new beginnings

Rising into aligned purpose.

The Sunrise Social Club has started, stopped and restarted a couple of times now, and the essence of it has been nudging at my consciousness for years. It’s been easy for me to get so caught up in logistics that my creative flow gets smothered. But the more I’ve found myself holding back, the more I’ve seen my creative ideas coming to life in other places. I have learned of this concept many times: that ideas are out there, floating in the universe, waiting to come to life. And if you don’t take action when they come to you, someone else might. So today is the day I’m changing the script, and I’m beginning my journey of writing and sharing.

A few weeks ago, tragedy struck the place I call home as wildfires ripped through the city of Los Angeles and destroyed many beloved places where I have been sprinkling the seeds of a new life since I moved here from across the country almost 8 years ago. One of the fires started up near the very trails in the Palisades highlands that I’d hiked regularly in my early California days, dreaming big dreams about this LA life. It burned neighborhoods off Sunset Blvd. that I’d drive through and dream of living in, and much of the village that I spend hours window shopping and pushing my new babies around in my early postpartum days. It torched most every home and business on an entire stretch of highway that has been a regular route for me since those early days I spent driving, admiring, dreaming on my way to see that guy in that trailer park in Malibu. And since that guy I was seeing became my husband and that trailer park my community, that iconic drive became more regular; the establishments became my go-tos and the homes became those of my neighbors and friends.

These places I love and feel so connected to were gone so fast and too many neighbors and friends are now dealing with unimaginable loss. As it all happened, I realized those seeds I’d been sprinkling had grown roots, and somehow this destruction revealed to me just how deep my connection to, and love for this land and community has become. It’s the place where the dreamers are allowed to dream and the dreams are able to manifest. Where community runs so deep and there is a collective support system unlike any I have ever known. In these recent weeks, I have admittedly struggled with feelings of fear and anger— wanting to give up on living in this risky pocket of Earth. But it became so clear that the roots I’ve grown are too deep now. There’s too strong a pull to this place: it’s unmatched beauty; what it has already helped me to manifest, the dreams it’s realized; the hope of what more there is here for me; and the people and community that I now feel so engrained in.

As I packed up to evacuate a couple separate times throughout the week of January 7, a few more things became really clear to me. The first was that there aren’t many “things” I own that needed to come with me. And the things that did were not purchased- they were photo albums, the book my dad made me about my heritage, my son’s preschool artwork. The second realization was that nothing was more important during the chaos then keeping my family safe. And the third was that a strong sense of community and collective has the power to pull you through the hardest times.

I am very fortunate that I did not lose my home, but was still able to gain some perspective that comes from the possibility of it. If it all burned down, the effort and identity I placed in collecting belongings and curating a sanctuary that felt good to come home to, would now be irrelevant. Honestly, those things have mattered so much to me- especially as we are in the process of building and designing a new home. I have been very wrapped up in how I want that home to make us feel, and how it will help us live peacefully, which I know will continue to be the case (with an added emphasis on minimalism). But the question really is: without every thing, what remains in my life?

This is really what I have been pondering for years now; reignited, if you will, in a time of destruction and loss. Back in October, with the support of my family and so many loved ones, I made the decision to leave my 10 year career in the pharmaceutical industry in search of a more aligned life. To leave behind pieces of who I once was, and get real about who I want to be. To be able to better answer that question: what about me would live on even if I lost it all? Stripped down; without the identity that was wrapped up in my job, and is wrapped up in my home and clothing and books and worldly possessions: who am I?

Allow me to introduce myself. I am a writer. I am a wellness and design enthusiast. I am a trained mental health counselor and health coach who loves to help people. I am a sunrise and nature lover. I am a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother. I am a neighbor who yearns for a more connected life in this special community that is now forced into what is bound to be yet another beautiful rebirth, right alongside mine. I am the founder of the Sunrise Social Club; a community that honors the way the sun rises each day as a metaphor for the work we do to keep our spirits rising. This is my new beginning.

Welcome to the club.