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This blog seems even more appropriate today…

I have been processing so many things these last few days. Trying, like everyone else, to make sense of so many things: my roller coaster emotions, the best and worst of humanity that can come from a crisis, fear and survival instincts, a little scare from a loved one, friends that are experiencing the virus first hand in their families, the anxiety of the unknown, the lack of leadership from our national government and the actual leadership of some governors, and...

My mom was one of the most caring and genuine people I know, and all walks of life: the four-legged, two-legged, winged, young, and old knew it too. Her laughter, beautiful sense of humor, and her positivity rang through even though she had endured great loss. She wanted people to be happy and feel joy even through hard times like this…

Something occurred to me this morning at 5:30 am: now that I’m feeling a little better the lack of urgency has me feeling very uncomfortable. Isn’t there something I should be doing? Going out and getting? A fire to put out? I have all these new ideas and thinking and no grasping (although my brain is really trying to). No GO GO GO and this is NOT easy and I believe is fueling some of my confusion. What am I “supposed to” be doing? Turns out nothing, or so it seems…

Much of the time we feel isolated and alone in our traumatic experiences, we feel shame, terrified, lost, confused, unsafe, and misunderstood. We feel as if no one could possibly help, support, or understand us and our experiences or that people just don’t care. We feel shame for what we went through and how we feel. We aren’t able to see and/or trust that there is any compassion in the world, any kindness, or any connection — not even within ourselves. Nothing is sacred and everything is scary. It is scary to be in the world, it is scary to be us. And the truth is, finding that safe and sacred space to bring us safety, comfort, healing, and peace seems overwhelmingly unattainable…

In the web of existence, Healing through Connecting is not a mere theory but a profound truth, an undeniable reality seen and felt by many souls. My personal narrative unfolded in the absence of genuine connections for numerous years, with the exception of the profound bond shared with my maternal grandfather. Even in his physical absence, the connection persisted, a testament to the enduring power of genuine human bonds…

At the tender age of 18 months, my baby brother Jeff, just five weeks old, succumbed to sudden infant death syndrome. The weight of loss settled upon me in the earliest chapters of my life, yet its profound impact eluded my understanding until 2008, when the call to reflect on the formation of my identity compelled me to explore the depths of my soul…

In the web of my life, I once thrived as a collegiate scholarship athlete, achieving the accolade of NCAA three-time All-American in softball. For two decades, the rhythm of my existence was set to the cadence of playing and coaching softball. It was more than a passion; it was everything. Yet, when the symphony was disrupted by injuries and the dissonance of high school politics, I found myself at an unexpected crossroads. The abrupt pause ushered in an identity crisis - without the roles of athlete or coach, who was I?…