“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”

— Lao Tzu

WHAT’S GOOD

Save the Date for One Another Coffee’s 3rd Birthday Celebration

Spring is officially in the air, and we’re gearing up to celebrate One Another Coffee’s 3rd birthday on Saturday, May 9th. Mark your calendars and be sure to join us for a disco-themed day of fun—as well as a birthday giveaway coming up on Instagram. More details about the festivities to come, so be sure to follow One Another for updates!

My Leaf Story

Che Ortiz, Program Manager, One Another Coffee

So many meaningful practices were shared over a beautiful weekend at the Sunset Ridge Women’s Retreat—a weekend centered on rest, connection, and learning a gentler rhythm of life. Tucked away at Mo-Ranch, surrounded by acres of quiet beauty and the river just steps away, women—including myself—were invited into a space to slow down and to practice rest. It was a time to gather, to heal, and to be vulnerable with one another.

After a warm lunch filled with laughter and full bellies, our Deputy Director, Taylor Bates, paused us to introduce a practice she created—her “Leaf Story.”

She shared, with deep vulnerability, about the grief of losing her first child, Ellis, to stillbirth. She spoke about how, in that season of grief, she felt his presence with her in unexpected ways. She told a story of being drawn to a quiet body of water—a peaceful river where she sat with her grief. In that stillness, she imagined Ellis older, standing by the stream, reaching out to her with a leaf in his hand.

As she received the leaf, she knew in her heart it was time to let it go, setting it into the water and letting it be carried away.

After sharing her story, Taylor and our Executive Director, Jess, handed each of us a leaf and a marker, inviting us to write down something we were carrying—something we were ready to release.

I could barely hold back tears as Taylor spoke. Sitting there, sharing in her sorrow, I knew exactly what I needed to put on my leaf.

I found a picnic table by the water with one of my closest friends—my “big sister,” Nancy, our Hospitality and Engagement Coordinator. The air was calm, the weather perfect. We sat in a peaceful quiet, broken only by the distant sound of the river and children laughing downstream. She read her book while I began to journal.

And once I started, I couldn’t stop.

My hand ached from how much poured out. If you’re anything like me, you know the habit of stuffing things down—pushing emotions aside with “I’ll deal with it later,” “not right now,” or “on my next day off.”

But this…this was my moment to face it.

Eventually, I closed my journal, picked up my leaf, and said out loud to Nancy,
“The things that no longer serve me.”

I wrote it clearly, then walked to the water and knelt down, ready to release it.

With excitement and a sense of freedom, I set my leaf down just inches from the edge of the river.

What I didn’t realize was that we were sitting right by a dam. While the center of the river had a strong current, the area where I placed my leaf was completely still. A quiet pocket of water, blocked by a concrete wall.

My excited smile quickly turned into concern.
“Oh no…” slipped out of my mouth.

Nancy rushed over, and together we watched as my leaf drifted…straight into the dead water, stopping just a foot away from us.

If you know me, you know I somehow always find myself in these slightly ridiculous situations.

Without saying a word, Nancy and I locked eyes—and instantly burst into laughter.

What started as a meaningful, symbolic moment turned into this hilarious, frustrating, very me situation.

And yet, underneath the laughter, I felt everything. Anxiety that my leaf would never move, embarrassment that I hadn’t thought it through, and frustration that something meant to be freeing had come to a complete standstill.

But Nancy, being who she is, stayed right beside me—encouraging me, reassuring me, and laughing with me through it all.

Then, slowly…my leaf began to move.

Inch by inch, it crept forward — even drifting back at times. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Every tiny shift felt like something to celebrate. After what felt like the longest 5 minutes of my life, we watched as it finally reached the edge of the current—

—and then it was gone.

It flowed straight through.

Nancy and I jumped, cheered, hugged, and laughed—followed by the deepest sigh of relief.

As silly as the moment was, it felt like a perfect reflection of what it really means to let go.

Letting go isn’t instant. It’s not always smooth or graceful. Sometimes it gets stuck. Sometimes it feels frustrating, slow, or even a little ridiculous.

But with time, with patience, and with the right people beside you—it moves.

It reminded me that releasing what no longer serves me—old relationships, past hurts, things I’ve held onto for too long—is a process. One that takes intention, grace, and support.

And even in moments of doubt or frustration, I’m not alone.

There are people right beside me, cheering me on.

There is always a way forward.

And while I don’t know where that little leaf is now…

I know I’ve felt ten times lighter ever since.