“This may only be a dream of mine, but I think it can be made real.”

— Ella Baker

Dreamers, Combatants, Lovers & Comrades,

With the constant churn of unsettling news and the weight it carries, I hope this finds you tending to yourself in big and small ways psychologically, emotionally, spiritually, and somatically.

And still, spring rises.

Not asking for perfection, productivity, or a polished personal breakthrough. Just asking us to pay attention. To what’s stirring. To what’s aching. To what’s alive enough in us to keep reaching for light anyway.

Here are some spaces already rooted and ready for you:

Space to Belong: A Yoga Fundraiser for Colley Community Center (CCC)🌀

📍(IRL) Norfolk - online option available

⏳May 23, 2026, 10:30am - 12:30pm

ℹ️ - 75-min Yin Yoga

There’s a quiet kind of healing that happens when we’re given room to simply be, to exhale, to soften, to remember ourselves in the presence of others. Space to Belong was created in that spirit.

This offering is also an act of collective care. All proceeds will benefit the CCC, helping support the work of creating spaces where connection, creativity, and community can continue to grow. And even more beautifully, every dollar raised will be matched, doubling the impact of your support.

Come practice, rest, and give in community.
A little softness can go a long way.

Come Find Me on Substack 👋

I’ve created a new little home for my newsletters, reflections, and offerings over on Substack, and I’d love for you to join me there.

It’s still in its early days, but in time it will hold not only my writing, but also some of the audio offerings I’ve been dreaming up behind the scenes.

If you’d like to stay connected and follow what’s unfolding.

Would love to have you there.

Garden of Healing Ideas:

Spring has a way of making things harder to ignore.

What’s been dormant starts stirring. What’s been sitting too long starts to itch. What you’ve been putting off, silencing, minimizing, or trying to logic your way around starts asking for your attention in a different voice.

And maybe that’s the real question this season keeps bringing me back to:

So… what has been calling out to you?

Not what looks good on paper.
Not what would make the most sense to other people.
Not what you can force into a five-step plan.

I mean the thing that keeps returning.

The idea.
The shift.
The boundary.
The desire.
The grief.
The work.
The version of yourself that won’t leave you alone.

Because that’s the thing about spring, it doesn’t just symbolize growth; it reveals where growth is already trying to happen.

And if I’m honest, I think answering a call takes more than clarity. It takes courage. It takes honesty. It takes being willing to admit what’s no longer working, what feels alive, and what you may already know but haven’t fully trusted yet.

That kind of listening is a practice.

It’s in the body, too.

In yoga, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to respond instead of react. To move from instinct, not urgency. To build the kind of inner steadiness that helps us recognize what’s truly ours to follow and what’s just noise.

That feels like the work of this season for me.

Not rushing into bloom.
Not performing transformation.
Just paying attention.
Listening closely.
And honoring what’s rising.

So wherever this season finds you in clarity, in confusion, in transition, in readiness, in resistance; I hope you’ll make a little room to ask yourself the question honestly:

What has been calling out to me?

And what might change if I actually answered?

If anything in this newsletter stirs something in you, I’d love to hear what’s alive in your heart right now.

You can reply directly to this email.

Read:

Poem for Women’s Month:

This month, I’ve been sitting with Lucille Clifton’s “won’t you celebrate with me,” a poem about becoming, surviving, and making a life in a world that doesn’t always make room for your full humanity. It feels like a fitting companion for this season of rising.

Go: It’s Plant Sale Season 🌱

If you know, you know… spring in Hampton Roads doesn’t just announce itself through pollen, weeds, and wildly confused temperatures. It also arrives with one of my favorite rites of the season:

Master Gardener Plant Sales

This is the time of year when parking lots, garden centers, libraries, and community spaces quietly transform into treasure troves of tomatoes, native plants, herbs, pollinator favorites, and all kinds of green possibilities. Whether you’re building out a full garden bed, looking for a few porch beauties, or just want to wander among fellow plant people and dream a little, plant sale season is officially upon us.

Below, find a roundup of Master Gardener plant sales happening across the Hampton Roads area, because honestly, there are few better spring activities than buying plants you may or may not have room for.

Happy hunting, and may your trunk be full.

Grow:

(ZONE 8b - VIRGINIA)

Master Gardener Plant Sale Roundup

(Check with each Master Gardener city extension official page for most accurate information)

Norfolk:

Location: The Hermitage Museum & Gardens

Friday, April 16 , 9-7

Saturday, April 17, 9-3

Chesapeake:

Location: Warren Farms

Friday, April 24, 8-6

Saturday, April 25, 8-12

Newport News:

Location: Brittingham - Midtown Community Center

Saturday, April 25, 9-4

Suffolk:

Location: Earth & Arts Festival Historic Downtown Suffolk

Saturday, April 25, 10-4

Virginia Beach:

Location: Hampton Roads Agricultural Research & Extension Center (AREC)

Saturday, May 2, 9-3

Sunday, May 3, 10-2

Feel & Flow Playlist:

This month’s playlist lives in that tender place between thaw and bloom.

It’s for the slow return.
For the body waking back up.
For the heart stretching toward warmth again.
For the parts of you that have been quiet, guarded, hibernating and are now beginning to stir.

Listen while you stretch.
While you clean.
While you walk.
While you remember that even now, life is still moving through you.

Closing

Spring rarely arrives all at once. More often, it comes in fragments. A little warmth here, a little clarity there, a sudden urge to begin again before you feel entirely ready.

So wherever this season finds you, in motion, in uncertainty, in renewal, in resistance; I hope you’ll give yourself permission to meet it honestly. To notice what’s rising. To tend what feels tender. To trust what keeps calling.

As always, I’m grateful to share this space with you. Thank you for being here, for reading, for practicing, for returning in whatever way you can.

Wishing you a spring of grounded growth, softened edges, and just enough courage to answer what’s yours.

With care,
Fee 💚