Where Procrastination Leads Me

I thought about writing a blog post, as I often do. I even started writing one about 48 hours in Singapore and the adventures of Ruthie and Jo—or is that Jo and Ruthie?

But as I sit here on the back deck of my home—our home, so casually and with a smile in my heart named Cloud IX—yes, I live on Cloud IX, our oasis on the lake—I watch a workboat go by, which always brings a feeling of pride for the industry on the water. And maybe in this unique moment, as I sit here waiting for Sam to get home, feeling the gentle breeze on the back deck and the gentle sun warming my back (it’s the only way I can see what I’m typing), this moment has me thinking about love.

About my love, but in this moment, it is for the beautiful man, my husband Sam. Sure, he’s not hard on the eyes, but more importantly, he’s not hard on the heart—on my heart. In this moment, I want to give gratitude to the man who supports my heart and my dreams.

I recall asking Gage, my son—the boy who has held my heart, who is the best of my heart and challenges me to open it once again: “Gage, how could it be that a man could support me, even encourage me to go with my friend Jo on our adventure?” His reply: “Mom, could you consider for a moment that Sam loves you and would do anything to make you happy, to help you pursue your dreams, to encourage you to see the world—even if in that moment it’s with one of your BFFs?”

To this I say thank you, my love, my Sam, for encouraging me to be my best, even if in that moment my best is working in Alaska (multiple jobs—fun stories about those still to come!) or taking that incredible month-long journey to Indonesia that just wrapped up. What an adventure that was—seeing all those beautiful faces, experiencing a culture so rich and different from our lake life here on Cloud IX. Thank you, my love, for praying for what is for us and what’s not for us to pass on by, for encouraging me to keep going, for believing that my path is being written so I can shine for the reasons I’m called to shine.

But this moment of gratitude opens my heart to something even bigger. When we allow ourselves to receive love so fully—the way Sam loves me, the way Gage challenges me to stay open—it creates space for love to flow outward. Love for ourselves, first and foremost, because how can we truly love others if we haven’t learned to embrace our own hearts with kindness? Love for our families, our friends, our communities. And yes, even love for strangers across the world—those incredible faces I just spent a month getting to know in Indonesia, the workers on that boat passing by our deck, the countless souls navigating their own journeys on this beautiful, complex planet we share.

There’s something profound about choosing to keep our hearts open, even when it feels vulnerable, even when love asks us to grow beyond what feels comfortable. This year has been quite the journey for me—leaving my traditional job a year ago to forge my own path, working on things that aligned with who I’m becoming, building something authentic through my website. It’s messy and real and sometimes scary, but it’s mine. We only get one heart, and it’s pumping through all of it—the work, the love, the adventures, the quiet moments on this deck.

My faith teaches me that this kind of love—the messy, imperfect, keep-trying kind—is what we’re meant for. It’s what gives me grace for others and grace for myself when I fall short. Whatever your beliefs, whatever gives you hope and grounds you in love, I think we can all agree that choosing to love bigger is never the wrong path. When we say yes to love—for ourselves, for those closest to us, and for humanity as a whole—we become part of something much larger than our individual stories.

So to anyone reading this, whether you’re Sam’s friend, coworker, or family: Sam W., you are a great guy! But more than that, may we all find the courage to love boldly—to love ourselves with the same tenderness we’d offer a dear friend, to love those in our daily lives with presence and gratitude, and to hold space in our hearts for the beautiful, struggling, hoping humanity that surrounds us everywhere.

I love you, Sam, and I’m grateful. I love this life we’re building together, and I love the way it’s teaching me to love even bigger.

Love and Peace,
Ruthie