I didn’t book this trip because I had the time. I booked it because I recognized something in myself that nine years of nursing has taught me to recognize in my patients:

There’s a particular kind of anticipation that builds in the weeks before a trip. The kind where you’ve memorized the map but haven’t yet felt the dirt beneath your boots.

As a nurse, I’ve stood beside countless bedsides — but nothing prepares you for the moment it’s your own mother’s hand you’re holding. After losing her to dementia, I turned to the trail at Starved Rock, where grief met grace and nature helped me begin to heal.

Theres something sacred about the sound of moving water. As a nurse, I spend much of my time responding to the rhythms of others... heartbeats, breath patterns, the soft shuffle of feet down

In the fall of 2020, as the world battled an invisible enemy, I was one of thousands of nurses standing at the bedside, exhausted, heartbroken, and desperately trying to stay afloat. The COVID-19