52, Feral and Fiery
It all begins with an idea.
It’s my birthday.
And the best gift I could give myself this year isn’t something I can unwrap…it’s the decision to say yes to life.
To new experiences.
To curiosity.
To everything that sets my soul in motion.
For a long time, I kept waiting for clarity, for the “right time” or perfect plan, but I’ve realized that life gets exciting the moment you stop waiting and start exploring.
This year, I decided to follow the spark. To step out of certainty and into possibility. And that choice lit a fire I didn’t even know I’d been craving.
I started my own business, Wildly Capable Wellness Coaching, and it’s become more than a dream. It’s a declaration.
It’s me saying: I want more passion, more adventure, more purpose, more life.
This season is about courage and curiosity…about trading control for creativity, and pressure for presence. I’m learning that growth isn’t about pushing harder, it’s about opening wider.
I don’t need all the answers.
I just need to keep moving toward what feels alive.
So here’s to being 52, and absolutely on fire for what’s next.
Here’s to the late starts, brave choices, wild dreams, and moments that remind you: you’re not done. You’re just getting started.
Here’s to the year I chose wonder over fear, and built something beautiful from it.
- Diane
Founder, Wildly Capable Wellness Coaching
www.wildlycapable.life
email: diane@wildlycapable.life
The Stories We Tell Ourselves
It all begins with an idea.
What are we believing that costs us our freedom, our happiness, and the awareness of our own true nature? - Byron Kelly
Here’s what no one tells us:
You don’t have to untie the rope.
You don’t have to drag the chair.
You don’t have to wait for permission.
You don’t have to work harder, heal perfectly, or become more worthy.
You just have to take one step.
The rope loosens.
The story cracks.
The illusion dissolves.
Your world expands.
You remember:
I was never stuck.
I was never powerless.
I was just believing a story that wasn’t true.
And once you realize that?
The chair becomes laughable.
A prop.
A symbol of your old chapter.
A relic you don’t need to carry forward.

