He hears our cries…

I was holding off on my post this week, hoping I’d have a “homecoming” update about our cat. Our black cat, named after the “How to Train Your Dragon” movie star Toothless, has been at the vet. Last week, he stopped playing fetch. We thought maybe it was just a phase & didn’t think much beyond that. If you’ve been around cats, they kind of make their own rules. He switches his favorite resting spots so we thought he was just changing his favorite playtime toys.

Saturday, he didn’t seem like himself and got sick in the garage. At first I thought maybe he was just mad that we were moving things around. He was struggling to urinate also, so we knew something was up. Tried to give him lots of TLC, but Sunday he didn’t feel better. You could tell he was in pain. I tried the local ‘on call’ vet but couldn’t get through. I talked with an online vet who mentioned that bladder obstructions for male cats can be deadly. So, we took him to St.Cloud to the ER vet. Poor kitty had such sad meows the whole way there. Myles and I stayed at a hotel there instead of driving back. (PSA: the Hilton Garden Inn is very nice). They called me and said they removed the blockage but his potassium levels were dangerously high. He would have likely had a heart attack if we had waited. Several of his other numbers were elevated.

We picked him up at 6:30am. They said he was very loving after the procedure & was in pain meds. I’m sure he was purring and rubbing on them, so thankful for the relief! We took him to the regular vet to continue monitoring him and trying to flush his system out. We even made it back home before 8am! We thought he could come home today but he wasn’t quite clear and wasn’t going on his own yet. His blood work came back much better. They said he was eating well also. I miss him, but hopefully he will be fine tomorrow and we can give him lots of love and attention.

Hearing him cry was kind of like hearing an infant cry – you aren’t really sure what they need because they can’t tell you. And not being able to soothe them feels so difficult & helpless. I’ve had 2 kids, I understand it’s not the same thing, but it’s a similar helpless feeling. Sometimes when we cry out to God, we feel helpless too. We feel like he doesn’t understand what we need. We must not be saying it clear enough, right? Maybe he knows what we need and is clearing the way for better things.

I believe this for the most part but really struggle with the tragedy part. The young wife who is now a widow? The young man who took his life and left a heartbroken family? The mom with cancer leaving behind small kids and a spouse? Why did those things have to happen? I don’t know. I don’t claim to know. But, the young widow is bringing awareness to grief… the young man’s family is advocating for teen mental health all across the US… and the mom’s family is raising funds for cancer research. So I do think God hears our cries, and maybe he does really know what we need.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Reach out if you are struggling, you are not alone and you are always enough!

PS- the book launches June 21st!!! So exciting!!

Sometimes you need to sow again…

This is part of our farm/garden. On May 27th, we worried about frost. We covered our garden because of freezing temps. May 27th should be a “frost free” time frame. We didn’t lose plants, just a few asparagus. Then the temps jumped up into the 90’s. We worried about keeping the plants watered and hoped they wouldn’t burn. What extremes. Highs and lows follow us through life. Sometimes the swings are big, and sometimes things are steady for a while. The last two weeks have been full of temperature swings for sure.

The last few days we have been re-planting. There were gaps in the rows where the plants didn’t germinate. We waited until the garden had a little more shade, and the temps were down to the mid 80’s. I checked my “garden map” to see which varieties we needed and started to sow by hand. Filling the gaps. Replanting. I wasn’t thrilled about it. I was kind of annoyed. I don’t like being hot and this was hard on my back. But I knew it had to be done. In order to get a full harvest, we needed to sow the seeds again. Kind of like life, right? Sometimes things don’t turn out like we planned. Even if we had it just right, we might have to try again. Sometimes when we sow again, the timing is better or the conditions are better and it thrives.

There are 48-66 Bible verses related to sowing (according to two Google sources). either way, it’s mentioned quite a bit. I liked this one the best:

Luke 8:5-15 New International Version

5 “A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path; it was trampled on, and the birds ate it up. 6 Some fell on rocky ground, and when it came up, the plants withered because they had no moisture.7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up with it and choked the plants. 8 Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up and yielded a crop, a hundred times more than was sown.” When he said this, he called out, “Whoever has ears to hear, let them hear.” 9 His disciples asked him what this parable meant.10 He said, “The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of God has been given to you, but to others I speak in parables, so that, “though seeing, they may not see;
though hearing, they may not understand.’11 “This is the meaning of the parable: The seed is the word of God. 12 Those along the path are the ones who hear, and then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. 13 Those on the rocky ground are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away. 14 The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature. 15 But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. When harvest time comes, I’ll be thankful for the work we did now to sow again.

Doors, roses and dancing…

We traveled back “home” for the graduation of our son’s former classmates on Sunday. He went alone on Friday to see some more kids and attend a few extra open houses. As we drove up to the school in the middle of nowhere, I knew the day would be almost as emotional for me as it was for the moms of the kids on stage. I forgot Kleenex in the car, but I managed to hold it together.

I held back tears as I talked to other moms before the ceremony. Parents who my son grew up with. Field trips and birthday parties, Halloween around the neighborhood on scooters… now young adults stood before us, eager for their next steps. Pomp and Circumstance played and the lump in my throat got larger. Where would he have been? Who would he walk in with and sit by? What stories would be told of his high school years if we had stayed? Then the choir sang, “I Hope You Dance,” and I leaned over and told my senior that I should have brought tissues. He looked shocked. “What for?!” It’s a touching song. Through all the struggles of raising kids, moving and changing schools, I still always want the best for them. I know it won’t always be easy, and that’s ok. The seniors handed roses to their parents and I’m sure I would have lost it. I would have tried to take 100 pictures so I wouldn’t miss a thing.

When he walked across the stage for his tech school graduation (before high school finished), I wasn’t even able to be there. When he walks across the stage this Friday, I will be there in person, but it’s just not the same. 322 kids instead of 43. Very few he has connected with, and since he was mainly at the tech school, he wasn’t involved in many activities with them either. He is so ready to move on. I can relate to that part. I vividly remember being ready to graduate. I didn’t move as far away, but it was a change. It’s the independence that I longed for. He’s ready for that independence also. I hope we’ve given him the skills to do well, and I hope he will dance.

The words give me chills. Here is a reminder. LeAnn Womack’s “I Hope You Dance”…

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.I hope you dance… I hope you dance…I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance,
Livin’ might mean takin’ chances, but they’re worth takin’,
Lovin’ might be a mistake, but it’s worth makin’,
Don’t let some Hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.I hope you dance… I hope you dance.
I hope you dance… I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
And wonder where those years have gone.)I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.Dance… I hope you dance.
I hope you dance… I hope you dance.
I hope you dance… I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
And wonder where those years have gone.) I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.Dance… I hope you dance.
I hope you dance… I hope you dance.
I hope you dance… I hope you dance.
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
Tell me who wants to look back on their years
And wonder where those years have gone.)

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. Moving may have closed a door, but it opened a different opportunity & many friends remained. Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens for you too.

Use your voice…

We spend the first few years of life learning to talk. Our parents and family members are so excited when we learn new words. They clap and cheer and smile at us. Then we are toddlers and are told to be quiet. Maybe it’s the constant questions or the “Mom?! Mom?! Mom??” nonstop that wears us down.

I’m an introvert with a Mass Communications degree. I can talk in front of a large group of people, yet I’m not a fan of small talk. I was in speech and drama in high school, and even in college. I was never afraid to speak my mind. A bit too much at times, I guess. Somewhere along the way, I lost my voice. Maybe it’s the way people looked at me if I did stand up for myself or voice my opinion. Maybe it’s the training about what should or could be said and how to go about it. Maybe it’s the years of being told what I was saying out loud wasn’t right. If you hear something long enough, you begin to believe it.

“Your voice doesn’t matter….”

“Your thoughts are wrong….”

Whatever the narrative was, it started to shut me down. So much so, that it manifested as physical pain in my throat a few years ago. I went to the doctor several times, convinced that I had something wrong. I mean, suppressed emotions can’t become actual pain, right? Wrong. It can and does happen. Your throat chakra is a thing. It’s an energy point that can get stuck when you’re not using your voice. That’s what happened with me. Am I totally fine and speaking my voice again? Some days, but not always.

Fear gets in the way. Fear of rejection, fear of driving someone away, fear of offending, fear of being misunderstood. I have a ton of conversations in my head, but I don’t always speak them out loud. I assume people are mind readers and should just know what I’m thinking or what I’d like. It’s not fair that I get frustrated when I haven’t actually spoken the words. As an introvert, it’s common to clam up and just stuff all those words and feelings inside. “Why bother anyone?” This is NOT healthy thinking. The words need to be spoken. Once I can verbalize something, then we can have a true discussion. Otherwise it’s just words swirling around in my head with no place to go.

I’m not an expert. I’m not a therapist. I’m learning as I go. I’m learning that my voice has value. I’m learning that it’s ok to be heard. I’m learning that by speaking my words, I am validating my feelings. But man, that’s still scary at times. I wrote recently about being invisible, yet I never talked about it out loud. This kept me still invisible. I’m a work in progress, friends. We all are. Some days you might need to talk out loud to yourself. That’s totally ok. That’s a validation too.

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. I also wish for you to find your voice. Go yell outside if you must. Speak to your pet or talk to the mirror. Call up a friend or speak to a counselor. We all want to feel heard, but in order to do that, we have to use our voice.

Labor of love…

It’s almost here… June 20th is when the book comes out. I am the author for one of the chapters. I’d be lying if I said being a “published author” was a lifelong dream of mine. I actually hadn’t dreamed that BIG for my writing. Sure, there was a maybe or someday that danced through my head, but I honestly never thought I’d be good enough to be a published author. And then I had cancer and writing became a way for me to manage and share information. Every now and then, someone would throw a compliment my way. I’d dismiss it, because they were just being polite, right?

Then I went to a retreat and was opened up to a whole new realm I hadn’t experienced before. I met intuitive, magical and strong women. Women who lifted each other up and supported without judgement. People I wouldn’t have come in contact with during my regular life. Each retreat widened the circle…. several returned, new people came… our spiderweb of connectivity grew.

I can’t explain the feeling, other than to say I felt like my authentic self. I could share and listen and be lifted up. Intuition was celebrated and shared instead of hidden. I began to look at life differently. I still believe in God, but I’m also more connected to nature and aware of the signs from our loved ones and angels.

I’ve been pregnant and given birth twice. Because of infertility treatments, I knew I was pregnant when I was exactly 17 days along. 9 months of excitement and worry, puking and having swollen feet, insulin shots and bloodwork. Fifteen (first one) and seven (second) hours of labor. This book has been a much shorter version of a labor of love. I’ve felt like I was going to puke, I’ve worried and stressed, written and rewritten, and the day is almost here. My chapter is called “Journey to Joy” because there is a book in my heart already called Journey of Enough. I talk about two of the things that bring me joy and a little more about my back story. I have no idea how many copies I will sell, or how many the other authors will sell. I hope that collectively we will reach a bunch of readers. I’m excited to read the other chapters and to feel the book in my hands.

I’d love to sign a copy for you. $22 covers the book, tax and shipping. June 20th is our launch date (and right around graduation open house time so it will be a busy week.) My journey of enough has brought me to the journey to joy… and I can’t wait to share it with you! Peace be with you on your journey of enough.


The Wild Woman’s Book of Shadows

Pre-order your author signed copy. Tax and shipping included. Books will ship after June 20th. Allow 1-2 weeks for delivery.


Preorder an author signed book copy!

Preorder your author-signed copy today! Only $22
(includes tax + shipping within the US)

The magic of nature, the moon, and the seasons had a profound effect on Melissa Kim Corter growing up. Mystical experiences unfolded in the simplest of moments. Rocks and trees were animated with life; the moon listened to her stories while the Earth held her as she stumbled through life as an empath (feeling everything so deeply). As she began to morph and adapt to the adolescent changes of life, magical views were stripped away until only a fragment of her imagination. She was lost and floundered until she awakened the wild, wise woman within.

This book contains women who “know” truth through feeling and sensation without the need for evidence or approval. This collective includes women who own their light and release the opinions of others. It features women who have forged a path, and refuse to settle out of fear. The wise, wild woman lives in our bones and rises up through the core; she has an unapologetic desire to reflect this potential to those who feel called to welcome her.

The pages within are filled with powerful women who share a desire to live an enchanted life and connect you to the intuitive knowing you hold. In the Wild Woman’s Book of Shadows, Melissa Kim Corter and 22 magical women (including ME!) offer stories, tips, formulas, and wisdom to awaken and connect you to your own inner wisdom. They invite you to join them in sharing the most potent medicine of all … the reclamation of enchantment.

Publication date is set for June 20, 2021. All preorders will be processed on publication day. Please allow 1-2 weeks for delivery. Outside of the US? Contact me for international orders: mavisfrueh@journeyofenough.com


Wild Woman Compilation: Book of Shadows

Preorder your author signed copy (signed by Mavis)! Orders will be shipped after June 20, 2021.


Take me to the water…

I don’t know much about astrological signs, but I am a Sagittarius, which I guess is a “fire” sign. Youngest son is a “water” sign, oldest son is “air” and my husband is an “earth” sign. My husband’s makes the most sense because he is very connected to the earth. He loves to garden, move dirt, work with compost, and trim trees. I love the water. I spent most days at the city pool when I was a kid. Growing up in the 70’s/80’s, we would ride our bikes to the pool and wait for it to open (as long as it was warm enough). We would swim until supper break & sometimes ride back again for evening swim. In high school, I got my lifeguard certificate and worked at the pool for a few summers.

I’m drawn to water. I love floating down the river or being on the lake. I could sit and listen to the waves lap against the shore all day. I love the sound of it flowing over the rocks at the dam. I like kayaking so I can glide across the water. There is a calm and sense of peacefulness that washes over me when I’m by the water. It’s hard to explain if it’s not something you connect with. It is where I will retire someday… in a cabin on a lake. I will wake up and have my coffee while watching the sunrise and listening to the loons.

“Take me to the River” is the song that the “Billy Bass” sings. If you’re not familiar with it, Google it. For several years, that’s how my husband woke up our oldest son. A song from a plaque with a singing bass fish was just annoying enough to get him out of bed. I could always hear it upstairs, even though his room is in the basement. It made me chuckle. I wonder what will happen to Billy when he goes off to college?

I know my son will learn to fly fish in Bozeman. He will seek out the pond of ducks and sit to listen to their calls. Are there lakes by Bozeman? If there is, he will find them. Ironically, the kid sinks like a stone… he is not a strong swimmer. His lifeguard mom failed at getting him comfortable IN the water. He will be on or beside it, but he doesn’t love to swim. He may not have Billy Bass with him, but I’m sure there will be a few tackle boxes and rods packed into his car in the fall.

There are many things I admire about my son. He can talk to anyone, I love his smile and he has a desire to learn new things (especially if they are in the realm of fishing, hunting or welding). He may look more like his dad, but we will always share the connection to the water. I’m thankful this summer will be busy compared to last summer. There will still be time for fishing or boating or river floating. Next year will be completely different.

Peace be with you on your journey of enough. Take me to the water, are memories to be made.

I see you…

This picture of an “invisible woman” really caught my attention. I first time I saw it was in a writing group. They asked us to write a short paragraph about how this made us feel. Tears rolled down my cheek as I typed my paragraph. It made me sad because I often feel invisible.

Sometimes we yearn to be seen and heard. It’s a validation that we are enough.

Have you ever felt invisible? I admit that invisible is my preference at a party or in a crowd. I hide behind being busy. My labels make me invisible and I lose myself. I’m not Mavis, I’m Dallas’ mom or Myles’ mom. I’m not Mavis, I’m Cameron’s wife. I lose myself to be what others want me to be, what they expect me to be. I lose myself to make sure I stay “small.” I set my own wants aside to make sure everyone else is taken care of. Self care seems selfish for me, even though I know how important it is & I encourage it for other people.

I will be the invisible helper in the kitchen. I will be the invisible chef, invisible crafter, invisible planner, invisible laundry folder, the invisible accountant. I keep a mental checklist of all of the appointments & medication refills, of every item in the house, each upcoming activity, birthday, bills to pay, who needs new socks or pants to be spotted, what homework is coming due, what trips we have coming up…. oh and then there is the list for work related stuff too. No wonder I have vertigo with all of these things spinning in my head. Don’t get me wrong, my family is great, and I know they love me. The only females around me are 6 hens, and they aren’t much help (other than the eggs).

Mother’s Day is just around the corner, and to the other moms who feel invisible, I want you to know… I see you.

  • To the hopeful mom, praying for a positive pregnancy test… I see you.
  • To the new mom worried about doing “the right stuff”… I see you.
  • To the toddler mom who thinks these days will never end… I see you.
  • To the mom in the store with a kid in full tantrum mode… I see you.
  • To the mom of the 4th grader longing to fit in… I see you.
  • To the mom of tweens who wonder what happened to their kid… I see you.
  • To the mom of junior high awkwardness… I see you.
  • To the mom of a senior, taking a deep breath as their child prepares to leave the nest… I see you.
  • To the mom of a graduate, wishing for another weekend together… I see you.
  • To the mom who became a grandma, beaming with pride… I see you.
  • To the mom who became a great grandma, yearning for a more active body to keep up with those sweet babies… I see you.

I see you. I have been you or likely will become you… invisible and just wanting to feel enough in the ebbs and flows of motherhood. I have gotten used to skipping self care. It’s not something I’m proud of. I’m aware of it… it became apparent when I had cancer. I was forced to take care of myself. I was forced to say no so I could conserve my energy. But time marches on, and I became invisible again. I did “all the things” because it is easier to, right? Who am I if I’m not busy or stressed? Sometimes I feel like I’m not worthy of taking time for myself. It makes me feel guilty for taking time away from my family, partly because I know time is limited.

I’ve attended a few retreats and towards the end, we sit in a circle with one person standing in the center. We go around the room and say positive & uplifting things about the person in the center. They can only say “thank you”… they cannot dismiss the compliment, they just take it in. We fill up their bucket. We see them. I do not volunteer to go first, but I do admit that it feels good to be seen.

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. May you truly see others and allow yourself a o be seen. I will be working on this too!

Zip lines & spider webs…

2 years ago, I was zip lining in the mountains of CA for a cancer survivor retreat. I like to remember that trip. For me, it reminds me of what is possible. It reminds me I can fly to CA, drive up a mountain by myself (without getting lost), and stay with strangers who would become friends. I can do a ropes course, zip line and do yoga on the mountainside. I can share my story, and listen to someone else’s story without fear or judgement. I grew a lot that weekend. It seems like a lifetime ago, but I think it was a turning point for me. I can do the tough things and still be vulnerable.

It’s bittersweet because we’ve lost some of the ladies from the retreat. My heart aches for their loved ones who have a void that won’t be filled. The kids who miss their mom, the spouses, friends and parents who reach for the phone and realize they can’t call to say hi. They enriched the lives of those they touched, but it still doesn’t make sense why they had to pass. Some things just don’t have easy answers.

The loss reminds me to appreciate my health, to cherish my friendships and to find JOY. It reminds me to fill my circle with people who cheer me on, even if I don’t make it across the ropes. We all have an invisible connection. When I picture it, I see a spider web. It slowly spins as we tell our stories and gain a connection. By the end of the weekend, the web was strong. Roommates, similar diagnosis, similar struggle, similar victories, similar likes and dislikes, with a common respect and a lasting connection.

A zip line in the mountains was where I found my courage. A zip line in the mountains was where I laughed and screamed and almost puked. A zip line in the mountains will hold a special place in my heart. And every year when this memory pops up, I will think of this web of connection woven between women who started with one common thread (cancer), and ended up with so many more. Your tragedy doesn’t have to define you, but it sure shapes you in a different way.

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. May you find your own “zip line in the mountains” and don’t forget to keep your eyes open. The view is breathtaking!

Are you willing to stick your tongue out?

This is one of the many bird feeders in our back yard. It is empty. Although we’ve had some snow lately, it has melted and hopefully it will feel like spring soon. The bird feeder isn’t empty due to a bunch of migrating birds returning from their winter vacation. It’s not empty because of a wind storm or squirrels. Nope, it is empty due to the deer wandering through the yard. While this feeder closes if a squirrel gets on it, it does not close if a deer sticks its tongue through the hole to lick out the bird seed.

Pretty creative, right? The deer walking from the state park through our yard like to stop for a snack, I guess. We have 3 “winter feeders” we keep full all year. These 3 deer were having some breakfast when we looked out the patio. (Our snow is gone finally- this was a little while ago)

How often does our life not go quite like we planned it? How often are we forced to adapt? Sometimes we have to be creative, be like the deer and stick our tongue out. It might be something small like a road detour causing us to reroute. It might be a larger event – job change, a sickness, a marriage, divorce, baby or graduation causing us to adjust to our new circumstances. Will you keep walking past the feeder, not even realizing that it’s a solution? Will you pay attention to the person showing you the way? Will you take the path not yet traveled? Sometimes the detour is wonderful and exciting, yet other times it feels scary. There isn’t one right answer, you just have to be open to new ways to seek help or find solutions.

I was happy that there were deer in the back yard. If it was a bear in the bird feeder, that might have been a different story. My chickens are pretty safe with the deer. Deer are often a symbol of peace and serenity. I figured they had some kind of lesson or wisdom to share. I think the wisdom is ‘to find peace amidst the change.’ Often times, the part of change that feels scary is the lack of control… the fear of the unknown. Maybe if we are willing to stick out tongues out, we might find what we are looking for.

I wish you peace on your journey of enough. May you find some answers you’ve been searching for, and maybe a full bird feeder or two.