Looking back, I can see that there were pieces of me I understood long before I had words for them.

There were experiences scattered throughout my life—moments of knowing, unusual connections, and things I sensed or experienced that I couldn’t quite explain. I held them close, but I didn’t always understand them, and I certainly didn’t always feel comfortable talking about them. So, for many years, they simply became part of my inner world.

My creative process was much the same. For most of my life, I never questioned how I made things. I would see an image in my mind or become inspired by an idea and simply create it, following instinct from one decision to the next. I knew when something felt right and when it didn’t.

It wasn’t until college, when I heard other artists explain and defend the choices they had made in their work, that I realized I didn’t really work that way. I wasn’t choosing a color because I had consciously decided what it symbolized or placing something in a composition because I could explain why it belonged there. I just knew.

So I learned to work backward, finding the practical language to explain choices I had already made intuitively.

I understand that part of myself differently now. What I once thought of simply as creativity was also a way of receiving and following information. Channeling of sorts. I just didn’t have a name for it yet.

There were other things I noticed, too. Children I didn’t know would sometimes stop and stare at me or catch my eye in a crowd. Sometimes they would say hello, come over to me, or offer me some tiny treasure they had found. There was no obvious reason for it, but it happened often enough that I noticed. I didn’t know what to make of those moments, so I simply tucked them away with all the other things I couldn’t quite explain.

Years later, after my marriage ended, I turned to meditation. I wasn’t trying to become more spiritual or develop some new ability. I was trying to find myself again.

And in many ways, I think that’s exactly what happened.

As I became quieter, I started paying attention to things I had spent much of my life dismissing, questioning, or keeping separate. My intuition became clearer. Experiences from years earlier began to look different to me. I became more aware of the ways I felt connected to other people, to nature, and to things I couldn’t always explain.

More importantly, I began trusting myself.

The more I listened, the more I realized that creativity, intuition, nature, and spirit weren’t separate interests I needed to somehow fit together. They were already connected because they were all part of me.

And somewhere along the way, I stopped feeling like I needed to become something else.

I was becoming more like me.

Dandelion Wise grew from that realization. It gives me a place to share the things I’m learning and exploring, the stories and experiences that have shaped me, the things I create, and some of the questions I’m still asking.

I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t want to pretend that I do. I’m still listening, learning, noticing, and changing my mind about things as I go.

What I can offer is a place to explore some of it together.

Because I’m beginning to believe that becoming who we are isn’t always about adding something new. Sometimes it’s about peeling away the noise, the expectations, and all the ideas we’ve collected about who we’re supposed to be.