Tag Archives: june

The Shifting Blog Post

June didn’t crash or crescendo — it shifted. Quietly, slowly, almost imperceptibly at times. But I felt it. In conversations I didn’t force. In moments, I chose to sit with rather than fix. In the way I showed up for others, and maybe more importantly, for myself. This was the kind you notice when you’re brushing your teeth, staring at the ceiling, or standing still in a room that used to feel heavier. June moved me. Not dramatically. But definitely. And in a way that matters.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, to shift means “to change the place, position, or direction of something”— but it also means “to change gears,” “to assume responsibility,” or ” to move subtly in tone or meaning.” It’s a word built for motion, but not always motion you can see. As Maya Angelou once said, ” We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” And bell hooks reminds us, ” Healing is an act of communion.” To shift, then, isn’t just about you. It’s about adjusting in ways that let others breathe. Shifting can be an act of grace. A quiet apology. A new boundary. A softer tone. A deeper truth. A held silence.

This June, the shifts were personal and real. My year of service came to an end— closing a chapter that stretched and shaped me in quiet, relentless ways. I moved back to Texas, returning with more clarity, more softness, and a deeper sense of who I am and who I’m still becoming. And maybe most meaningfully, I embraced my genderqueerness more boldly than ever before. During Pride Month, I didn’t just show up — I showed. I claimed space with both softness and strength, and I wrote it all down. Here’s a poem I shared this June, that still echoes in me:

Shifts are constant. That’s why, over the past two years of writing this monthly blog, a recurring theme has surfaced again and again–under different names like change, growth, and now shift. Each word marks a moment, a feeling, a phase of moving forward, even when the steps aren’t clear or easy. Change and growth have been anchors before, but this shift feels different — more fluid, less about arriving and more about navigating the in-between. It reminds me that to live authentically, we can’t settle. We have to keep moving, even when it’s uncomfortable or uncertain, because that movement is what shapes who we are becoming.

As the poet Rainer Maria Rilke wrote, “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.” This echoes the necessity of embracing shifts — not resisting the tides of life, but flowing with them. Similarly, Virginia Woolf observed, “Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.” The halo is never static; it moves and changes shape, just as we must. Even the philosopher Heraclitus famously said, ” You cannot step into the same river twice,” reminding us that change and shift are the very nature of existence. To live authentically, then, is to accept that we are always in motion, always becoming something new.

At the heart of all these shifts, growth, and changes is one undeniable truth: we are all human — imperfect, evolving, and beautifully complex. No one’s journey should be judged or rushed. As the Apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Our vulnerabilities, our shifts, and our slow growth are not signs of failure, but of life’s grace working within us. Jesus himself said in John 13:34, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” That love includes compassion for ourselves and others as we move through seasons of change. So whether you’re shifting quietly, growing boldly, or changing completely, remember: this is your sacred path. Your pace is your own, and every step is worthy of respect and kindness— because being human means never standing still.