Chips, Dips, and Gratitude

Every family has that person — the one who brings the safe, no-stress, zero-chance-of-burning-anything dish to holiday gatherings.

In my family, that person is me.

I don’t cook. I don’t pretend to cook.

My contribution is chips and dip, and honestly? I bring them with pride.

It’s funny, but there’s something comforting about it.

It takes the pressure off.

No timers. No smoke alarms. No “is this supposed to be that color?” moments.

Just grab the chips, grab the dip, and walk in like I did something heroic.

And maybe that’s kind of the theme of my life lately — embracing the simple things instead of beating myself up over what I’m “supposed” to be doing.

Thanksgiving, for me, has never been about the perfect meal or a magazine-ready table.

It’s about quiet gratitude. The parts nobody sees. The moments that don’t need to be performed to matter.

This year, my gratitude feels a lot more grounded:

🧡 I’m grateful for my little studio, always warm enough to keep creating even when everything else is chaotic.

🧡 I’m grateful for the people who show up for my art, my readings, and my strange mix of island spirituality and watercolor chaos.

🧡 I’m grateful for my family — even when my only assignment is chips and dip.

🧡 I’m grateful for the island itself: the woods, the water, the stillness that resets me over and over again.

🧡 And I’m grateful for the way life keeps nudging me forward, even on the days I feel unsure.

You don’t need a perfect holiday to feel thankful.

You don’t need to cook a masterpiece.

Sometimes you just need a quiet moment, a warm place to land, and one thing — just one — that reminds you you’re doing okay.

Today, I’m grateful for the ability to keep creating a life that feels like mine.

And for the people who walk this journey with me, even from far away.

— Ashley

Fall But Once

Fall But Once