Riding the Wave

Riding the Wave: Opportunity, Stress, and the Cost of Peace

This week has been a study in contrasts—the kind of week where joy and stress sit side‑by‑side at the same table, each insisting on being heard.

On the joyful side: I received the news that I’ve been cast in Phenomenomaly, a brand‑new immersive theatre production opening at Meow Wolf Denver. It’s my first professional theatre contract in a long time, and stepping back into this world feels like returning to a part of myself I’ve missed. Anyone who has ever done immersive theatre knows the cocktail required to survive it: laser focus, improvisational agility, and the ability to stay present inside a story that never stops moving. I’m ready for it. Hungry for it.

And the momentum keeps building—two more auditions this week, with three more lined up over the next two weeks. If the universe keeps nudging me like this, next year might be filled with theatre in a way that beautifully complements my personal training and yoga work. A full, creative, embodied life.

But then… taxes.

With all the changes of the past two years—two living spaces, a condo that still hasn’t sold, the financial whiplash of transition—this year’s tax season hit hard. The stress is real. The numbers don’t lie. And they made me reflect on something we don’t talk about enough:

A lot of “mental health issues” disappear when the bills are paid, the rent is secure, and the fridge is full. Peace is expensive. Pretending money doesn’t affect mental health is privilege.

I’m fortunate—blessed, really—to be living a life where I can almost balance the stress with the income, the uncertainty with the opportunity. But I’m not blind to the connection. Financial stability doesn’t solve everything, but it softens the edges. It gives the nervous system room to breathe.

Talking with friends who are navigating similar pressures helps. There’s comfort in knowing you’re not the only one doing the math, juggling the unknowns, trying to plan for futures that refuse to stay still. But there’s also power in acknowledging that financial health is part of our overall wellness. We spend so much time tending to our mental and physical health—movement, breath, meditation, community—and yet our financial health sits quietly in the corner, affecting everything.

This week reminded me that wellness isn’t a single practice—it’s an ecosystem. Creative fulfillment, physical vitality, emotional steadiness, and financial grounding all feed one another. When one is strained, the others feel it. When one rises, the whole system lifts.

I’m stepping into this next chapter—onstage, in the studio, in my bank account—with eyes open and heart steady. Stress and joy can coexist. Opportunity and uncertainty can share the same breath. And peace, even when expensive, is worth working toward.