About Kit Maitland

Soft-spoken and soil-hearted, I plant comfort where it’s needed and listen like it’s an art form.

Grow where you’re gently rooted.
(or tumbleweed-roll into it… either works.)

Hi, I’m Kit. I’m a writer, ACT nerd, recovering perfectionist, introverted extrovert (or is it the other way around?), and the person behind this odd little cottage of thoughts you’re wandering into.

This isn’t just a blog. It’s a meadow.
Metaphorically, anyway.

Imagine: soft grass, wildflowers, birds in no particular rush. A forest keeping watch. A lake that understands secrets. A cozy cottage just off to the side — there’s tea on, something baking, and probably a journal open with way too many tabs.

This is the space I created for all of us who feel a little between things: between who we are and who we’re becoming, between speaking and staying silent, between “I should have it together by now” and “actually… maybe I’m doing okay.”

Wait, What Is This?

This blog is rooted in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT for short, because that’s a lot of syllables). It’s a beautifully flexible approach to mental health that says:

• You don’t need to fix everything to move forward.
• You can feel awful and still do meaningful things.
• You get to choose what matters, even if it’s weird or wonderful or wildly yours.

This isn’t therapy, but it is therapeutic.

Think of it like a soft place to stretch out the parts of yourself you’ve been hiding, hush your inner critic for a sec, and maybe learn how to speak up or connect without panic-sweating through your shirt.

Where I’m Coming From (Besides the Meadow)

I hold a BSW in Social Work with a Psychology minor, and I’m currently in grad school for Behavior Analysis. So yes — I’ve spent a good chunk of time learning the science of human behavior, the patterns we fall into, and the tools we can use to gently shift them.

But I’ve also lived a life that doesn’t fit neatly into any syllabus — one that’s been messy, beautiful, gutting, resilient. I’ve survived things I wouldn’t wish on anyone and found meaning in places I didn’t expect. That lived experience matters just as much as the degrees on the wall.

I’ve taught, mentored, counseled, and held space for real people doing the gritty, gorgeous work of finding their voice, setting boundaries, softening shame, and showing up in their own lives.

And I’ve been shaped — deeply — by voices that whisper through the trees:

• Thoreau and Emerson, sitting under a pine tree somewhere, arguing (lovingly) about simplicity and self-reliance.
• The mindfulness roots of Zen Buddhism — presence without judgment, breath as anchor.
• The gentleness and grit of Stoic philosophy, which says: you can’t control the storm, but you can learn to hold your ground.
• The raw compassion of Carl Rogers, the radical belief that people are worthy, even before they change.
• The poetic honesty of Mary Oliver, who reminds us to pay attention, be astonished, and tell about it.
• And the core truth of ACT itself: that our pain is not the enemy — our avoidance of it is.

So this little blog isn’t just academic. It’s not preachy. It’s a campfire, a trail guide, a page in the margin. A mix of research and rumination, all offered with the hope that something here might help you feel a little less alone.

Meadow Letters

I write a little email sometimes. It’s not a marketing funnel or a “lead magnet” or whatever those cold words are. It’s more like a letter tucked into your mailbox with a pressed flower inside — unexpected, unhurried, and hopefully a breath of fresh air.

It’s called Meadow Letters, and it comes when I have something honest and hopefully helpful to say — about healing, ACT, courage, self-trust, or the beautiful weirdness of being human.

If that sounds like your kind of thing, I’d love to send one your way now and then.

[📬 Sign up here.]

Thanks for being here.
Really.

The meadow is better with you in it.

With warmth,
Kit