Field Note 0001-J: This Is Not Advice.

I don’t know exactly who I am right now.

But for the first time—maybe ever—I’m not rushing to fix that. I’m content in the not knowing. Not because it’s a state I’m trying to move through, but because this space is the point. I’ve set up camp in the uncertainty, and there’s something sacred—maybe even a little thrilling—about letting mystery have room to breathe.

This site—Renaissance Jenn—isn’t a personal brand in the way people usually mean that. It’s more like a soft landing for the hard work of becoming. A place to collect the scraps and sketches that don’t fit neatly in a resume or a diagnosis. A field journal, not a map.

You won’t find perfect conclusions here. You’ll find notes. Observations. Stumbles and sudden clarity. Things said too early, or too late. Questions asked at the wrong angle. Joys named just in time.

Because I’m reimagining my life—not retroactively, but in real time. And that means the ground isn’t always steady.

What am I reimagining?

• My relationship to work and rest

• My voice (after years of silence or shapeshifting)

• My rituals

• My space

• My softness

• My fire

• The story I tell myself about who I am, and who I’ve always been

Some days I write about patient safety, because I live inside systems that are designed to save and fail people. Some days I write about my dogs. Or what my grandson said about dinosaurs. Or what the hummingbird outside my window taught me about rage.

Some days I write to remember, and some days I write to forget.

If you’re here, reading this—hi.

I don’t know if this space will be useful to you. I hope so. But mostly, I hope it’s useful to me. I hope it keeps me honest. And brave. And grounded in my own becoming.

So welcome.
To the in-between.
To the unpolished.
To the field notes of a life reimagined.