Attunement

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Welcome to Volume two — Attunement

This year is a Root Year for this movement of returning to ourselves as feminine beings we are becoming.

A year not meant for rushing, proving, or pushing forward—but for strengthening what lies beneath. Roots are built quietly. They form when we slow down, become present, and begin to notice what is true for us.

Attunement is the beginning of that return… not through force, but through awareness.

This year is a Root Year for this movement of returning to ourselves as feminine beings we are becoming.

A year not meant for rushing, proving, or pushing forward—but for strengthening what lies beneath. Roots are built quietly. They form when we slow down, become present, and begin to notice what is true for us.

Attunement is the beginning of that return… not through force, but through awareness.

Let’s pause for a moment before we go any further.

Before any journey deepens, there needs to be a base—something steady to return to. As you move through Attunement, and through this Root Year as a whole, there is one thing I want you to establish for yourself above all else.

If you take anything away from this volume, let it be this: begin creating a sanctuary space for yourself.

Not something elaborate. Not something perfect. Simply a place—physical or portable—that holds what you return to when you need to slow down, listen, and notice what is true for you. A space that supports you as you move through this experience you’ve chosen and invested in.

You will need a place to land.

A place to be with what arises.

A place that gently holds you as you come back into relationship with yourself.

We’ll explore what this can look like in many different forms further down the page. For now, just let the idea settle. This space—whatever shape it takes—will help hold the entirety of the journey ahead.

Attunement

/əˈt(y)o͞onmənt/ noun

Attunement is the gentle return to yourself—

the noticing of what you feel,

the honoring of what is true,

and the quiet reconnection to your inner knowing.

THE STORY OF ATTUNEMENT

Lately, my soul has been asking for a deeper listening.

Not a distant one.

Not a “I’ll get to it later.”

A real one.

I’ve begun to notice how easy it is to move through life without truly checking in with ourselves—carrying roles, expectations, and patterns that once served us, but no longer feel aligned with who we are becoming.

I’m in a season of noticing.

Of slowing down enough to hear what is true.

Of listening to my body and honoring what it needs.

Of becoming aware of what feels aligned… and what doesn’t.

This is a year of presence for me.

From the root of my being.

Presence as devotion.

Presence as awareness.

Presence as truth.

My work, my home, and my life are becoming more intentional—shaped through listening, care, and integrity. Love Notes to the Feminine is part of that devotion. It’s a space to return to yourself… to notice what is true beneath the noise, the expectations, the constant movement of life.

If you’re feeling that same pull—to slow down, to listen, to reconnect with yourself—you’re not alone.

This isn’t about becoming someone new.

It’s about learning to hear yourself again.

ATTUNEMENT

When I began imagining what Attunement might look like in an image, I knew it couldn’t be still. Attunement lives in the body—in movement, in feeling, in the quiet moments where we pause long enough to notice what is true for us.

I was drawn to the idea of a woman in motion—not performing, not posing, but responding. Arms lifted. Body open. As if she’s not reaching for anything outside of herself, but instead tuning inward… feeling what is already there.

There’s a softness to this image. A blur. A lack of sharp edges.

Because attunement isn’t always clear or defined. It’s not something we force into focus.

It’s something we allow.

A quiet conversation between you and your body. A noticing. A responding. A return.

Let this image meet you however it does. Place it somewhere you’ll see it. Let it be a gentle reminder to pause, to check in, to feel.

A small Attunement invitation: Let this image inspire you to notice your body.

It might be a stretch, your arms reaching overhead. A breath you didn’t realize you were holding. A shift, a sway, or a moment of stillness.

If it feels natural, capture that moment. Not to create something perfect, but to hold a reflection of where you are, as you are.

The intention is simple: to notice, to feel, and to give your attention to what is present.

And if nothing comes, let that be part of the experience too. Attunement isn’t something you force.

Place your image in your journal. Sit with it. Notice what it brings up.

And if you feel called to share, do so in whatever way feels most natural. I’d love to witness you.

Selfie Invitation — Attunement

An invitation to see yourself. Truly.

There’s something I feel called to share—because I’m certain I’m not alone in this.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped noticing myself.

I hold a camera for a living. I photograph women. I witness them. I see them. And yet, it wasn’t until recently that I realized how rarely I had turned that same awareness toward myself.

At some point, it simply became easier not to look.

Then something shifted.

Not gently—but clearly. It was time to include myself again.

I’m still practicing this. I still catch myself reaching for perfection. Taking multiple photos, searching for the “right” one… only to realize the moment I’m looking for is already there.

So now, I’m doing something different.

I’m taking everything I’ve learned from seeing other women so clearly—and I’m beginning to see myself the same way.

And I want to invite you into that with me.

Your Attunement Invitation

This is not about getting the perfect photo.

This is about noticing yourself.

Take one photograph—or a few—that reflect where you are right now.

A close-up.

A full length.

Standing in morning light, or at the end of the day.

In something you love… or simply as you are.

No performance.

No pressure.

No need to get it right.

Just a moment that says: I’m here.

A few ways to hold this moment

Place your favorite image in your journal.

Write a sentence—or a few—about what you notice when you see yourself.

Set one image aside.

You may choose to include it in your love letter to yourself.

If you feel called to share, do so in whatever way feels natural. I would love to witness you.

This is not about how you look.

This is about learning to see yourself.

To notice your presence.

To include yourself in your own life.

A Love Note to Yourself

There is something powerful about writing to yourself — not the version you are trying to become, but the woman you are right now.

This is a gentle invitation. A small nudge to write a love note to yourself.

Who are you in this moment?

What are you feeling?

What do you need that you may not be giving yourself?

Where are you being called to listen more closely?

What feels true for you right now?

Write to yourself honestly. Tenderly. Without trying to get it right. Let it be a conversation — one where you are both heard and held.

You can write this letter in your journal, on a loose page, or wherever you feel most comfortable. If it feels meaningful, include an image of yourself — one you took during this Attunement — and place it inside the letter as a quiet witness of where you are.

When you’re finished, fold the letter.

Place it somewhere intentional — inside your journal, your sanctuary space, or somewhere you can return to it.

You might revisit it.

You might add to it.

You might simply let it exist.

There is no right way.

If it feels meaningful, you’re also welcome to send your letter to me. I may choose a few to gently send back at an unexpected time — a quiet return, just when you need it.

No expectation. Just an offering.

This becomes a practice.

A returning.

A way of staying in relationship with yourself.

A moment to pause.

A moment to listen.

A moment to remember that you are here.

Where it all begins...

If you take away only one thing from this volume, let it be the importance of creating a sanctuary space for yourself.

This will look different for every woman. For some, it may be an entire room, a garage, or a she-shed. For others, it’s a chair by a window, a corner of a room, or even a small basket that holds what you return to.

Everything does not have to be perfect, and the space does not need to be finished. The intention is what matters. Choosing a place to return to… that is what matters.

This is something you will build over time. You might begin simply with a journal, a pen, and a place to sit. And as you continue, you may find yourself adding pieces that support your return—a candle, a favorite tea, flowers from outside, something soft, something meaningful. Not because you should, but because you notice what feels good to you.

This is your space. Let it evolve. Let it become somewhere you want to be—somewhere that feels like a soft landing, somewhere that feels like home.

For those of you who already have a space, this may be your invitation to reconnect with it. To shift something. To notice how it feels now and what it might be asking for.

I am still building mine. It’s not perfect, not even close. But there’s something about claiming a space—even a small one—that changes how you show up for yourself.

The act of returning to it, again and again, begins to create something deeper. A familiarity. A connection. A relationship with yourself.

If this speaks to you, you might gather inspiration, save images, and notice what draws you in.

And if you feel called, share your space as it evolves—not for performance, but as a reflection of choosing yourself.

Create a sanctuary space for you. That is the root, the base, the beginning.

Lavender Seeds

Plant Something to Return To

These lavender seeds are a quiet invitation. To plant something. To tend to it. To return to it. Lavender is known for its calming presence— a reminder to slow down, breathe, and come back to yourself.

How to Plant

• Use a small pot or plant directly in the ground
• Place in a spot with sunlight
• Lightly cover seeds with soil (don’t bury too deep)
• Water gently and keep the soil slightly moist

Growth takes time. Just like attunement. As you care for this plant, let it be a reflection:

A small, living reminder to check in with yourself…

to notice…

to listen…

to return.