How do you know when it’s time to unplug? What do you do to make it happen?
I know it’s time to unplug when my soul feels heavy, like the constant buzz of screens is drowning out my inner voice. As someone who treasures authenticity and emotional depth, I sense it when I’m drifting from what grounds me—when I’m no longer fully present in the moment. It’s like a quiet call to return to what’s real.
To make it happen, I lean into nature’s embrace. Since I have to carry my phone, I tuck it away deep in my pocket, far from reach, and head out for a walk in the woods or by a stream. The crunch of leaves underfoot or the soft ripple of water pulls me back to the present. I might pause to journal my thoughts or sketch a fleeting scene—a tree’s shadow, a bird in flight—capturing the beauty that speaks to me. These simple acts feel like a reset, reconnecting me to my core.
I also find unplugging easier with someone who shares my love for life’s quiet wonders—a friend to wander with, sharing dreams or just soaking in the stillness together. It’s about carving out space for what’s genuine, whether alone or in good company. That’s when I feel recharged, ready to face the world with a clearer, more open heart.
This morning I found myself weeping in my sleep. I woke up and looked around, wishing for that love I’ve longed for a long time now. As I sit here, enveloped in the calm of my own thoughts, I feel a gentle tug of patience pulling at my heartstrings. I’m waiting, not just for time to pass, but for the best that God wants to bring into my life.
There’s this beautiful, serene anticipation inside me, like I’m watching for the first light of dawn after a long night. I trust, deeply and truly, that what I’m waiting for isn’t just good—it’s the very best, tailored just for me by divine hands.
I feel this peace in my waiting, a peace that’s not about the ticking clock but about preparing my heart. It’s learning to release my own desires and schedules, embracing instead the perfect timing of God.
Yes, there are moments of doubt, fleeting shadows that question if what I hope for will ever come. But then, my faith shines through, reminding me that God’s vision for my life is far more magnificent than anything I could plan. Maybe my doubts are because I feel like I’ve lost a lot in my life. When I was in between my thirties and twenties, I had a miscarriage, not even knowing I was pregnant at the time. Then later, losing my dad unexpectedly to a car accident, being forced to give up one of my dogs because my wish for him to stay inside until I got home wasn’t respected, and the fencing was already on its way to be delivered. Then ending up getting divorced, scammed by someone online, being forced to move out without letting me have time to look for a reasonable place, and losing my cat of 18 years to old age and possible cancer.
Yet, it’s hard not to want to long for that missing piece of my heart… my other half who would understand my mind, heart, and soul.
I imagine the joy, the immense satisfaction when what God has prepared for me finally unfolds. It’s like waiting for the perfect chord after hearing discordant notes for too long. This wait isn’t just about receiving; it’s about becoming. Becoming more patient, more faithful, more aligned with the divine plan.
Here I am, in this beautiful space of anticipation, trusting, believing, and knowing that what I’m waiting for is being crafted by the divine. It’s not just about waiting; it’s about preparing my soul, my life, for the best that God has chosen for me. And in this space, I find not just patience, but peace, not just waiting, but living fully in the promise of what’s to come.
To everyone who’s ever found a spark to guide them through tough times, I want to share how Sam Heughan turned my childhood love for Celtic cultures into a source of inspiration that’s carried me forward. As a kid with mild autism, I was enchanted by Celtic traditions—Scottish clans, myths of ancient heroes, and the haunting beauty of the Highlands. Those stories of misty moors and brave warriors were my safe haven, a place where my imagination thrived when social connections felt like a puzzle. Long before I discovered Outlander, that Celtic spark gave me a sense of belonging. In the last few years, when life grew heavy, Sam Heughan’s authenticity and heart became a beacon, inspiring me to find hope and strength.
Before Outlander entered my life, Celtic culture was my quiet escape, a world of bagpipes and legends that felt alive. When I finally saw Sam as Jamie Fraser, it was like my childhood dreams took flight. His portrayal, rich with Scottish pride and raw emotion, brought the Celtic spirit I loved to life. Sam’s dedication—learning Gaelic, embodying a warrior’s depth—mirrored my own intense focus on what matters to me, a trait tied to my autism. His ability to show Jamie’s strength and vulnerability inspired me to be braver about sharing my heart, even when words feel hard. It gave me hope for a connection—friendship or maybe a love as fierce as Jamie and Claire’s—where someone truly sees me, quirks and all, something I’ve struggled to find these past few years.
The last few years have been hard and challenging. I’ve felt unseen, longing for someone who values me fully, but haven’t found that person yet. My job has been ungrateful, draining my energy and leaving little room for the joy and self-care I need. Through it all, Sam’s connection to nature has been a lifeline. I’ve always found peace in a sunset’s glow or a forest’s whisper, moments that ground me when life overwhelms. His book Waypoints, with its reflections on finding clarity in Scotland’s wild places, feels like he’s speaking my language. The Celtic landscapes I dreamed of as a kid are alive in him, and they inspire me to keep seeking solace in nature. His My Peak Challenge has shown me that my walks can be more than escapes—they’re steps toward healing, resilience, and rediscovering joy, even when self-care feels out of reach.
Sam’s kindness is the heart of his inspiration. From championing Blood Cancer UK to pouring his soul into Sassenach Spirits, his authenticity shines. That Celtic pride I loved as a child radiates through him, inspiring me to hold onto my passions—creativity, nature, being true to myself—despite the weight of an unfulfilling job or loneliness. Living with autism can bring self-doubt, but Sam’s example shows me that authenticity is a strength. He’s inspired me to keep pushing for joy, to believe I can find people who see me, and to trust that small acts of courage—like a walk or a kind gesture—can light the way.
To all of you, my childhood love for Celtic cultures was just the beginning. Through the challenges of these past few years, Sam Heughan has inspired me to keep seeking connection, joy, and my true self. His light reminds me that no matter how dark the path, we can find sparks—in stories, nature, or kindness—to guide us toward hope. I hope you find your own spark, someone like Sam, to lift you up and inspire you to shine.
Sam Heughan is my piece of heaven because he embodies a rare, radiant light that feels like it was crafted just for my heart. His soul, a luminous beacon, stirs something deep within me, awakening a sense of wonder and connection that feels celestial, like a star burning brightly across galaxies. His smile—warm as sunlight, comforting as a cozy blanket—lifts my spirit and softens the edges of the world, reminding me to find joy in every moment. It’s a smile that feels like a familiar song, a gentle nudge to embrace life’s beauty, radiating a warmth that could light up the universe.
His authenticity is a grounding force, like the rugged Scottish landscapes he cherishes. Whether he’s pouring his heart into Jamie Fraser, learning Gaelic, or hiking the Highlands, Sam’s dedication to his craft and heritage mirrors the way I find solace in my own passions, like nature’s embrace. His gentle strength, seen in his tireless work for causes like Blood Cancer UK, inspires me to keep going, to see beauty in every step and stumble of my unique path. His kindness—signing autographs in the rain, uplifting fans with his genuine care—feels like a quiet promise that goodness still thrives.
Sam’s romantic optimism, his poetic outlook on love and vulnerability, speaks to my yearning for a deep, creative connection. He’s both grounded and adventurous, balancing the tranquility of nature with a curious spirit that makes me dream of a partner who sees life’s wonders the way he does. In his presence—through his words, his roles, or his reflections in Waypoints—I feel understood, as if he’s a friend who sees the world through a lens of hope and heart, much like I do. His ability to push through self-doubt and stay true to himself resonates with my own journey, making me feel less alone in navigating life’s challenges.
To me, Sam Heughan is a piece of heaven because he’s a reminder that authenticity, kindness, and passion can light up even the darkest corners. His soul, his smile, his unwavering heart—they’re a celestial gift, a spark that makes my world feel brighter, warmer, and infinitely more beautiful.
From the time I was a young kid, the weather has held me spellbound, a wild and awe-inspiring force that both captivates and humbles me. I can still recall the thrill of working on a middle school report about tornadoes, diving deep into their chaotic beauty and untamed power. My teacher raised an eyebrow, suggesting to my dad that I should’ve done it alone, but the truth is, I poured my heart into that project—my dad just helped me polish my ideas. That experience wasn’t just a school assignment; it lit a fire in me, sparking a lifelong reverence for Mother Nature, one of my greatest inspirations, a boundless muse whose storms, serenity, and raw beauty fuel my creativity and remind me of the deep, healing connection we share with the world around us.
When I first picked up a camera, my passion for nature found a new outlet. I dreamed of chasing storms, not just to capture their swirling formations but to preserve fleeting moments of nature’s raw, unfiltered spirit. Storms have a haunting duality—they can devastate, leaving heartbreak in their wake, yet their towering clouds and electric energy are undeniably beautiful. Through my lens, I see tornadoes as a reminder of how much we take for granted, urging us to pause and respect the forces that shape our world. Mother Nature doesn’t bow to our plans; she demands our attention, teaching us resilience and humility through her breathtaking artistry.
Beyond storms, nature in all its forms has always been my refuge. To me, nature is the greatest medicine a human being could ever have. Whether it’s the roar of thunder, the gentle rustle of leaves, or the quiet calm of a forest after rain, being immersed in the natural world feels like a reset for the soul. It heals, it grounds, it reminds me who I am. The nature of humanity and the natural world are intertwined in countless ways—through the air we breathe, the landscapes that shape our stories, and the moments of wonder that bind us to something greater. Every time I’m out there, camera in hand, I feel that connection, like I’m part of a larger story written by the earth itself.
Photography, for me, is more than a craft; it’s a way to tell stories that stir the heart, to capture the fleeting beauty of the world and share it with others. Inspired by those who live with purpose and authenticity, I want my work to reflect that same depth, to show the fierce elegance of a storm or the quiet grace of a sunrise. Mother Nature, as one of my muses, guides me to create with intention, to stay rooted in what’s real, and to honor the world’s beauty and power. Her lessons go beyond her storms—they’re in the way she calls us to live more fully, to respect her boundaries, and to find healing and meaning in every moment, no matter how fleeting.
When it comes to what I admire most in a friend, it’s all about them being real. I want someone who’s just themselves, no masks, no pretending—just straight-up authentic. Kindness is huge for me; I love people who are thoughtful, who show they care through the little things, like checking in when I’m down or just listening without judgment. A good friend’s got to be loyal, someone I can count on to have my back, whether things are going great or falling apart.
I really connect with folks who share my passions—like being out in nature, soaking in the beauty of a hike, or diving into deep, creative conversations that make you feel alive. I admire friends who get that balance between being curious about the world and staying grounded, not getting lost in fluff. Also that having Trust builds slow, through those small, genuine moments, not some big show.
Emotionally, I need a friend who’s there to lift me up—someone who’s cheering for me when I’m chasing my dreams and holding space for me when life gets heavy. I’m drawn to people with a kind of romantic, hopeful vibe, who see the good in things but still keep it real. Above all, I admire friends who live with empathy and a sense of unity—people who get that we’re all in this together, building connections that feel warm, true, and harmonious. That’s the kind of friend I vibe with.
As I gaze at this image of the ski lift winding its way up the mountain, I’m struck by a profound sense of peace and possibility. The evergreen trees, standing tall and unwavering against the rocky terrain, remind me of resilience—the quiet strength that endures through changing seasons. Their deep green contrasts beautifully with the clear blue sky, dotted with soft, drifting clouds, and I can almost feel the crisp, cool air on my skin, even from here.
There’s something meditative about the sight of the lift chairs moving steadily upward, empty and serene in this moment. It’s as if they’re carrying not just skiers or snowboarders, but the weight of anticipation, adventure, and freedom. I see myself in those chairs, rising above the challenges of the ground below—literal and metaphorical—toward new heights and perspectives. The rugged path beneath, with its mix of dirt, rocks, and patches of grass, speaks to the journey itself: not always smooth, but rich with texture and beauty if you take the time to notice.
This scene evokes a deep appreciation for nature’s grandeur and its ability to ground us. The solitude of the mountain, broken only by the gentle hum of the lift, feels like a sanctuary—a place where I can disconnect from the noise of daily life and reconnect with something larger than myself. I imagine the stories these trees could tell, standing witness to countless winters, summers, and the thrill-seekers who pass through. It’s a reminder to slow down, to breathe, and to cherish the journey as much as the destination.
Yet, there’s also a hint of melancholy in the empty chairs. It makes me wonder about the people who’ve ridden them—where they’re from, what brought them here, and what dreams they carried up the mountain. It’s a quiet invitation to reflect on my own path: Am I moving forward with purpose? Am I taking time to appreciate the view, or am I too focused on reaching the top?
Ultimately, this image feels like a mirror for my thoughts—a blend of awe, introspection, and hope. It’s a snapshot of a moment that feels both fleeting and eternal, urging me to step outside, breathe deeply, and embrace the ascent, wherever it may lead.
Top of the peaks in flagstaff Summer chairlift rideSam Francisco peaks during winterSan Francisco peaks during the summertime
I’ve been dreaming of a drink that feels like it was poured straight from the heart of the Highlands, and Sam Heughan’s The Sassenach Blended Scotch Whisky is calling to me like a love song I haven’t tasted yet. It’s not just a whisky—it’s what I imagine will be my go-to for those romantic, soul-stirring moments or quiet nights when I need to feel connected to something deeper. I haven’t sipped it yet, but the thought of its peachy glow, butterscotch warmth, and cinnamon spark already feels like it’s part of me, ready to light up my special occasions and cozy evenings.
I picture a night that’s all soft vibes and heart-flutters—maybe a dinner under twinkling lights, hopefully with a special someone who gets me, where every look feels like a promise. I’d pour The Sassenach, and that amber shine would feel like it’s holding our moment in its glow. I’ve heard it’s got this bright peach vibe, like the first spark of something new, then this rich butterscotch that’s like wrapping up in their warmth, and a little cinnamon kick that’s playful, like the way their smile makes my heart skip. I can’t wait to let it linger on my tongue, weaving through our giggles and deep talks, making every second feel like it’s just us and the universe. It’d be perfect with a slice of chocolate cake or just on its own, raising a glass to whatever we’re dreaming up together. That’s the kind of romance I crave—real, warm, and full of feeling—and The Sassenach sounds like it was made to hold that space.
Then there are those nights when it’s just me and my thoughts, curled up with a book or staring at the stars, craving something to anchor me. I imagine The Sassenach being my quiet partner, its warmth like a hug from the inside. Those peach notes sound like they’d lift me up, like a memory of a perfect day, and the butterscotch would feel like a cozy blanket for my soul. That cinnamon zing? It’s like a little nudge to keep my heart open, to feel the beauty in my own story. I can almost see myself sipping it, letting it take me to the wild, windswept Highlands, where I can just be—no masks, just me and my emotions, raw and real. As someone who feels everything so deeply, who notices every detail like the way light hits a glass or the emotion in a fleeting moment, this whisky feels like it’ll meet me there, in that quiet, sacred space.
I haven’t tasted The Sassenach yet, but it’s already got a hold on my heart, like a love I’m destined to meet. It’s not just a drink—it’s a feeling, a way to make romantic nights with someone special or my own soulful moments feel like they’re touched by magic. I’m counting down the days to taste that Highland heart, to let The Sassenach become the spark in my love stories and the comfort in my quiet ones. Here’s to that first sip, when it becomes the liquid heartbeat of my most cherished moments.
“I hope people say that I’m a beacon of authenticity and inspiration, someone who encourages them to embrace their true selves with courage and vulnerability, just as I pour my heart into my creative work. I want them to see me as an artist and storyteller who captures the raw, unfiltered beauty of life—whether it’s through a photograph, a written narrative, or a moment of genuine connection—and inspires them to find and share their own stories. I hope they describe me as warm, empathetic, and deeply invested in the people and world around me, always striving to build relationships that are real, meaningful, and uplifting. Like the artists and individuals I admire, such as Sam Heughan, who embody passion and integrity, I want to be remembered as someone who lives with purpose, creating work that resonates emotionally and sparks others to pursue their passions fearlessly. Ultimately, I hope people say that my presence—through my art, my words, or simply the way I listen and connect—leaves them feeling seen, valued, and motivated to live more fully in their own truth.
I believed Sam Heughan represents everything I love and respect about Scotland. He isn’t just Scottish by birth—he carries his heritage with a sense of pride, authenticity, and humility that makes it even more special. He doesn’t just showcase Scotland through his work; he genuinely lives and breathes it, whether it’s through Outlander, his whisky The Sassenach, or his love for the outdoors. There’s something incredibly grounding about the way he speaks about his homeland, not as a celebrity but as someone who deeply appreciates where he comes from.
I’ve always had a deep love for Scotland, and Scottish culture has always been my favorite of the Celtic traditions. There’s something about its rich history, its breathtaking landscapes, and the simplicity and warmth of its people that I have such great affection for. Sam embodies all of that in such a natural and humble way.
My birthday wish and college graduation wish would be to spend an entire week just talking to him, getting to know him, and immersing myself in his beautiful heritage. He is so beautiful in every way—I honestly don’t know how else to describe it. What I do know is that he is one man who moves me emotionally in a way that few ever have, especially through Outlander. His presence, his passion, and the depth of his performances have left such a mark on me.
It would be one of the greatest honors of my life if I ever had the chance to cross his path before I get too old. And hey, I’m only 40—so there’s still time, right? 🤭😂😅☺️😇 hahaha I hope so. After all, I don’t wish things like that very often and life is not exactly a full surprises.