A Tribute Blog By Raphaela Fritz Photo Credit: Helen Joy George Behind this hat, my love, a lot has happened that no one else will ever know or understand, only us, the couple behind it. Eighteen years ago on leap year, the day out of time, the universe pulled us together and we collided, awakening a great force in the joining. You wore a hat then, not this one. Your head was clean shaven, shiny, glowing, lit up unlike any other I ever met, otherworldly, flowing, open. When t

A little over a month ago, I had the profound honor of turning 50 . Because my birthday falls right in the heart of the holiday season, smack dab between Christmas and New Year's, I've rarely had big parties throughout my life. As a child growing up in the Midwest, most kids were out of town visiting family during the holidays, so celebrations often felt quiet or postponed. That pattern followed me into adulthood too. But this year was different. My husband and our children s

As someone who’s walked this healing path through childhood wounds, relational traumas, creative blocks, and more, I’ve learned that true wholeness starts inside us. Chandler and I have grown together over many years of births, losses, joys, and challenges, discovering that loving ourselves first creates the safety to receive love without chasing or defending. The biggest mistake? Waiting for someone else to complete us, when self compassion is the foundation that changes ev

The Process of Becoming The process of becoming is one of life’s most mysterious, humbling, and holy rites. To bring a child into form, into breath, into being, remains one of the most transformational, and magical, experiences in my life. Parenthood demands us to witness the constant evolution of our children, and hopefully ourselves, and a mother’s body and heart feel this evolution in a uniquely intimate way. As a mother, I sense my children from the inside out. I feel th

by Raphaela Fritz 10/25   One of the biggest lessons I wish I’d learned earlier in life is how to truly love myself, not the polished or perfected version, but the messy, honest, in-progress one. The self who’s a little cracked in places, who still forgets, still feels too much, still tries again. That kind of love didn’t come easily. It arrived through the slow alchemy of life: through challenges, heartbreaks, traumas, and the long road of remembering who I really am. Out of