What could you do more of?
My thoughts:
Lately, Iāve been thinking about what I need more of. And not in the material sense, but in the marrow of my days. The kind of āmoreā that fills, steadies, and fuels. The kind of āmoreā that shapes a life worth remembering. Itās not about excess, itās about abundance in the things that matter most: trails, laughter, waterfalls, family, community, creation. These are the moments that root me, the pieces of life that remind me why I keep pushing forward.
I want more Ohio winding trails, through forests, hills, and hidden ridges that still call my name.
The backwoods bonfires, with sparks lifting like prayers into the dark.
Then of course more sāmores, sticky fingers and laughter mixed with smoke.
Relaxing trips to the lake, the sun reflecting on ripples like glass.
That leads to more camping trips, with the quiet hum of crickets and the steady breath of earth beneath me.
Iām a sucker for a waterfall, tumbling like time itself.
And I could use more kayaking, with my arms burning but spirit alive.
Iād love time with Kelso, their presence steady as a compass.
And time with my sisters, weaving memories out of ordinary afternoons.
Iāll always want time with my mom. May she rest in paradise. Though, I am carrying her in every quiet moment, every place where the wind sounds like her voice.
I want more of these moments because they are the anchors: where the noise quiets and the core of living rises up clear. Trails, rivers, bonfires, and late-night laughter donāt just fill time; they carve it into memory. They remind me Iām not just moving through life, Iām part of it⦠woven into the forests, the water, the people who walk beside me.
I want more because āmoreā isnāt greed, itās gratitude. Itās choosing to multiply the things that heal instead of the things that drain. More connection, more earth beneath my boots, more stories written in smoke and stone. These are the things that make the days stretch wide and give me the energy to keep pushing, keep creating, keep fighting for the world I believe in.
The list Continues:
All this make me want More sunrises on trailheads.
And then sunsets bleeding across horizons too wide for words.
I wish for journals filled, ink poured like rivers of thought.
Iād love a good rockhounding trip, uncovering pieces of the earthās hidden heart. UP MICHIGAN is always on my list!
I want advocacy, protests, standing up when silence would be easier.
And More poetry read aloud, words stitched into air.
With this I need more community built, where every voice finds its place.
I love more time with my dog. The walks, snuggles, the simple grounding presence only she can give.
And time with my cats, their quiet purrs stitching calm into my days.
Who wouldnāt love more time gaming? We know play matters too, and escape can be just as healing as creation.
I would die for more time making physical products for my shop: witchy items, jewelry, keychains, and more. The tangible art that keeps my hands moving and my spirit rooted.
And more time on writing retreats, they donāt need to be fancy! I just need the only noise to be pen to paper and the only task is to let words flow free.
Spending time connecting with other poets and creators, trading sparks and building bonfires out of shared voices.
More more more ! Give me more! experiments, more mistakes, more chances to grow without apology.
Why?
Because if Iām honest, FOMO: the fear of missing out, lurks in the background. Not about the shiny, curated things the world flaunts online, but about missing the marrow of my own life. Missing the trails I havenāt hiked yet, the poems I havenāt written, the moments with the people and creatures I love most. Fear of missing the work that matters, the fire that only comes alive when Iām fully in it.
So this is my reminder to myself: donāt let fear decide. Let more decide. More moments, more presence, more joy stacked up like stones marking a trail forward.
Because life isnāt about less. Itās about leaning into more, the kind of more that fills you up without emptying the world.
Wanting more doesnāt make me restless, it makes me aware. Aware that life is short, that moments slip by, that time with people I love and places that restore me cannot be taken for granted. So Iām choosing more. More presence, more connection, more experiences that outlast the scroll of a screen.
Your turn:
What would you want more of? Where do you feel time calling you? Share it with me, and letās hold each other accountable to seek more of what matters, and to build lives overflowing with meaning, not scarcity.


