THE DETAILS MATTER
I used to say, "The details don’t matter." Things either are or aren’t. You either are, or you’re not; it can’t be both. Living in black and white helped me simplify life. I made big generalizations—this or that, right or wrong, good or bad—because it felt easier. Over time, I applied these absolutes to myself, my value, and my worth. I created a story in my mind that didn’t serve me.
With this perspective, I could only see everything that was wrong or incomplete. My many mistakes. My unaccomplished goals. The pain and disappointment I’ve caused myself and others. Unrealized dreams. All the times I didn’t measure up.
Zooming in helped me see more—and better. When I examined my life and experiences more closely, I not only discovered a new story but, more beautifully, a new storyteller.
In the details, I found the grace, compassion, and love I needed for myself. Discovering the weight of my presence and the cost of my silence. I felt soil and seed in my garden, carrying both shadow and light. My darkness and light shape each other—trading places, while making room for more. And the tension between the truth I live and the truth I claim.
Sometimes, knowing means feeling clear about who you are and what you want. You feel confident and sure. The days feel lighter, the seasons seem more hopeful. The path ahead is clear, and you move forward, one step at a time.
Other times, knowing means being keenly aware of your uncertainty. Not knowing means holding two truths: you can’t stay where you are, but you don’t yet know how to get where you want to go. Every moment is measured, feeling heavier and darker.
In these times, the questions outnumber the answers. What do I do next? Who am I becoming? How should I move forward? These questions quietly echo, revealing my confusion and self-doubt.
The first kind of knowing always felt better to me. I found safety in being clear about who I was and what I wanted. It felt like I’d been planted in good soil, being watered just enough, and the sun shining on all my parts. It felt good. Right. Warm. I wanted every season of life to feel that way.
I’m learning to accept the other kind of knowing. It’s uncomfortable and unsettling not to know who you are or what you want. Finding these answers can be painful and lonely. I’ve always tried to rush past this part because it feels like punishment or a delay for missing the mark. But lately, I’m starting to see this delay as a sacred pause—a moment to reflect that invites me deeper into my questions. In these slow seasons, I’ve found the quiet gift of patience with myself and the wisdom that sometimes clarity comes only when I let myself stay in the unknown.
What I know for sure about the “knowings”: Both are needed. Neither is wasted.
Knowing and trusting my story helped me see the unique details of my love and light.
In the details, I found the themes and patterns of my life. Some came from my light, others from my shadows. I learned to peel back the layers to see what’s underneath and lean into the rhythms of my life. I began to trust my journey’s pace, even during slow, slight turns.
I was wrong to think the details don’t matter. So wrong. The details matter—they are all that matters. In the creases and folds, the corners and the edges, we find ourselves. The details of our journey and the specifics of our stories are what lead us home, helping us remember who we are.
Here’s to both of us finding the freedom and power to live in our complete truths. While also lighting a match for those who need it most.
My ever evolving list of details that matter:
My purpose is to capture and document the human experience. It took 10 years of self-discovery for me to write that sentence. So if you don't know yet, please keep going.
I love fresh flowers in my home.
I love hard. Sometimes too hard. Sometimes so hard that I abandon myself.
New experiences, big and small, are exciting to me.
I'm an alchemist. I have this way of making my pain beautiful.
Murder, She Wrote is my all-time favorite show. I never tire of it. Never.
I want to open a bed and breakfast one day.
I can be extreme. I'm always trying to find balance.
Breakfast is my favorite meal.
I tend to observe before I engage.
I'm an artist.
My vision for my production company, KenCai Productions, is to create beautiful, thought-provoking art that helps people return to themselves.
I love art. Books, films, photography. . .
I hate oppression of any kind.
If it were socially acceptable, I would wear a t-shirt and sweats everywhere I went.
When I'm connected to someone, I have the gift of seeing them fully. Especially the stuff they want to hide.
Top 3 favorite movies: The Little Mermaid, The Wizard of Oz, and Gone With the Wind
I try to live intentionally.
I have a big capacity to feel and experience every emotion. Sometimes that serves me, other times it doesn’t.
Every 2-3 years, I seriously think about pursuing a doctorate degree.
I think the people I love belong to me.
I'm equal parts analytical and intuitive. It gets really confusing around here sometimes.
On Saturday mornings, I like to play in my books while sipping on a nice cup of tea. Skimming new books to see what jumps out at me. Or revisiting old books, to look at all my highlights and scribbles.
I have a history of staying in connections and relationships longer than I should. Working on that . . .
Sometimes my anxiety makes me overthink when I should really be taking action.
As a writer and storyteller, my stories—whether fiction or not—are for me first. I’m the first to touch, hear, see, taste, and feel these words.
Whether I write to recall, explore, affirm, expel, or expand, my words pull me aside and ask me to look within. They help me sort, sift, and shift.
They connect me to my energy, my medicine, my purpose, and my gifts. Through them, I find my voice and learn to listen to God’s whispers.
I hope to be a college professor one day.
I love long walks.
I'm drawn to understanding people beyond the surface.
I've decided not to live my life competitively. The pace, lessons, and details of my journey are most important to me.
I'm genuine and kind but not friendly.
I love watching reality shows where people get eliminated.
My sense of self is rooted in my mere existence. I believe that because I am here, I matter. Because I matter, I am here. You feel me?
I love mini cupcakes.
Maintaining my connection to self is what keeps me rooted and anchored. Rooted in my truths, anchored to my Source.
I try to add a little bit of whimsy to my days.
My newest obsession is interior design. Turns out I like really expensive shit.
Please, share some of your details that matter.