My once lovingly decorated therapy office is empty except for the circle of folding chairs that we now sit upon. Don sits to my right. Colleagues of mine fill the other chairs. We gather to formally close my psychotherapy practice. Each participant has been part of my journey from an undergrad classmate of twenty years […]
I am ready to receive! This declaration begins the gift giving ceremony in the December women’s circles. We don’t exchange bubble bath, candy or gift cards with each other. We give words — words from our hearts. This is not easy. It takes deep inner listening and dropping into our experience of one another to
Goldfinch’s color is changing ever so slightly as he moves from summer’s bright yellow to flaxen in autumn. By the time the snow falls, he’ll be olive-gray. That same toning down starts to happen to me as hoodies come out of the closet and firewood is stacked by the backdoor. Subtle changes are obvious in
It started with a rainbow. Well, that’s not quite right. What is the starting point in any event that you have experienced? Was it a childhood dream? An idea that flashed through your young girl mind? Or did it start in the Costco parking lot in Manitou Springs, Colorado. There, in an SUV filled with
Don is in the basement working on his model railroad layout. I just awoke from a midday nap. The house is still. Outside the distant rumble of a jet lets me know life continues to have deadlines, boarding passes and schedules. Not me. A soft overstuffed chair hugs me. A summer blanket warms me. We
“Who, who, who are you?” The question comes from an owl in a nearby tree. It seems to be speaking to me as I pick up my pen and begin my early-morning journaling. The owl’s question reminds how hard it’s to be one’s self. Yet there is really no other choice. Harder still, is
Eight women sit in a circle. The rattle, that we use as a talking stick, lays in the center of the circle. This is the last day of four-day retreat. Soon one of us will reach for the rattle and speak. The closing ceremony will begin with her words. For now, we sit in deep
Our kitchen is my center of gravity. Changing it seemed like a bad idea even though Don repeatedly said it needed updating. Then the refrigerator failed. I could no longer deny it was time. Cabinets disappeared. Sink and appliances were carted off to new homes. Anticipation bubbled. Excitement gave way to impatience as every room
How are you going to be in 2017? Not what will you do or what will you have. How will you be? Most New Year’s resolutions are about what we will do. “I will start doing thirty minutes of exercise three times a week. I will eat less and move more.” Money,
Fake Wakes is a business I’ve considered starting. Its mission: To encourage telling friends and family how much they mean to us while they are alive. Company Motto: Tell them now. Too many of us save up all the best comments about loved ones to finally deliver at their funerals. It makes me wonder, “Is
