When a Place Becomes More Than a Place

Why This Space Matters — and Who It’s For

Photo by: Rachel Regina Photography

A little while ago, I shared the story of how Arrowhead Acres began — how stepping away from my teaching career after fifteen years opened a space I didn’t quite know how to fill, and how that space slowly led me back to the parts of myself I had set aside.

In that season, I found myself rediscovering the passions that shaped me long before adulthood: design, creativity, imagination, storytelling, rearranging rooms until they felt “just right,” drawing Garfield from the Sunday comics, turning cardboard boxes into worlds of my own making. I remembered what it felt like to lose myself in projects that lit me up.

I also rediscovered connection — real, honest connection — thanks to a small neighborhood book club that reminded me just how much we all need community. That tiny spark grew into a bigger dream, one that eventually led Ryan and me to this old cabin, this land, this possibility. The moment we pulled up to Arrowhead Acres for the first time, something inside me whispered, this is it.
And, somehow, it was.

But what I didn’t share then is what I’ve come to understand more clearly now.

Arrowhead Acres isn’t just a place where I am coming home to myself.
It’s a place I hope others can come home to, too.

Because lately, I don’t think many of us feel fully “home” in our lives.
We’re more connected than ever online, yet more disconnected in the ways that matter. We move fast. We scroll endlessly. We lose touch — with each other, with nature, with our creativity, with presence, with ourselves.

And yet, beneath all of that, there is a quiet longing.
A craving for something real.
A desire to gather, to exhale, to be seen, to feel inspired, to belong.

That’s the heartbeat behind Arrowhead Acres.

I want this place to offer what so many of us are missing:

• A table to gather around.

• A reason to put our phones down.

• A moment to create with our hands.

• A space to connect face-to-face.

• A setting where conversations linger and laughter fills the rooms.

• A reminder that community still matters — maybe now more than ever.

We’re no longer in the “just dreaming” stage — so much of the cabin has truly come to life. The main level and loft are finished, warm, and ready for people to step into. These spaces already hold the heart of what I hoped Arrowhead Acres would become: cozy, welcoming, creative, and rooted in connection.

At the same time, we’re continuing to shape the rest of the property — the lower-level kitchen and dining space, the barn, the landscaping, and the outdoor gathering areas. It’s a season of growth and refinement, and I’m learning that becoming doesn’t happen all at once. Some spaces are ready. Others are still unfolding. And maybe that’s exactly what makes this place feel so real and human.

Thank you for being here, for following along, and for caring about this little dream of ours. There is so much goodness ahead. And now, for the first time, we’re able to welcome people in — not just to see a renovated cabin, but to experience a space that holds room for connection, creativity, and community.

A place where you can come home to yourself.

And a place where we can come home to each other.

Missed Part 1? Read the beginning of the story here.

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