As I sit down to write this, the word on my mind and in my heart is gratitude. More than just a word, it’s the feeling that defines Thanksgiving for me. As I've shared, my heart is heavy with all that’s happening in the world and it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of events and emotions swirling around us. Still, I know, deep in my soul, that gratitude is the key to shifting my energy. Whether it’s for the big things or the small, gratitude has the power to transform.

This Thanksgiving, I have so much to be grateful for, and acknowledging those things that make my heart beat happy helps me ground myself in hope and peace.

I’m profoundly grateful for the freedom I’ve gained since selling my retreat center, Ripple on Silver Lake. That sale brought me physical, emotional, financial, and time freedom. I no longer carry the daily responsibilities of managing a busy property or the weight of its financial demands. Now, I have the space to relax, rejuvenate, and reflect on what’s next in my life. As I look back on the experience of serving as a steward to that magical property, I am forever grateful all the learning and the growing I experienced there as well as what I am bringing forth as I plan my next steps. And I'm grateful for the people who have supported me all along the way and continue to do so.

I'm grateful for my Ukranian family. I was happy to provide them with a place to land when they first arrived in the US seeking asylum for the war in their country. Now I am honored to call them family and cherish the unbreakable bond we have formed.

I’m grateful for time—time to write, time to dream, and time to curl up with my cats, Luna and Sundae. Their sweet snuggles and gentle purring warm my heart and soothe my soul, lifting my spirits and elevating my vibration in ways words can’t describe.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to spend meaningful time with my dad. We’ve been reminiscing about family memories, and he’s been sharing stories I’ve never heard before—about his childhood, my mom, and the journey of raising a family. We've had some deep conversations about values, integrity, what's happening in the world and the meaning of it all. These moments feel like treasures, and I’m savoring every one of them. And I'm grateful to have the time to help my dad finish up his Storyworth book and add some pictures. (If you haven't heard of Storyworth, I highly recommend it as an easy way for your loved ones to share their stories with you and your family.)

I’m even grateful for the shift in seasons this year. While I’ve always loved winter and have a passion for skiing, I’m surprised by how much I appreciate not having to prepare for the cold. Instead, I’m enjoying warm days with my toes in the sand, walking along the beach at sunset.

I’m grateful for technology. I recently splurged on a new computer, which feels like the perfect tool for the online training I’m preparing to launch. I’m grateful for my business coaches, who are challenging me in ways I’ve never experienced but absolutely love.

Even the little things bring gratitude to my heart: my noise-canceling earbuds that turn the chaos of errands into a personal concert hall, the workspace and sleeping area I’ve created at my dad’s house, complete with ceiling fans and AC to keep me comfortable. (Let’s just say my dad’s ideas of home decor and temperature control don’t quite align with mine!)

I’m grateful for the tools I’ve cultivated to manage frustration and anger, which seem to arise more often as I process my thoughts and feelings about the state of the world. Heart breathing and practicing uncommon appreciation are my favorite and never fail me, reminding me to breathe deeply, choose gratitude in the moment, and raise my vibration instantly.
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Above all, I’m grateful for my belief in a higher power, a faith that reassures me that everything happens for our learning and growth—even when the bigger picture is unclear.

This Thanksgiving, gratitude feels like my lifeline, anchoring me amidst uncertainty and guiding me toward hope.

Reflection Questions

1. What are some of the big things you’re grateful for this year?
2. What small, everyday moments or items bring you joy and gratitude?
3. How can you use gratitude as a tool to shift your energy when life feels heavy or uncertain?
4. What lessons or blessings have come from unexpected changes in your life?​​

As you reflect on your own blessings this Thanksgiving, may your heart be filled with peace, hope, and gratitude. 💛

It’s been 21 days since the election, and my heart still feels heavy. While I’ve managed to regain some productivity, I can’t bring myself to watch more than 30 minutes of news a day—if I even make it that far. The weight of current events is palpable, and the steady stream of developments has made faith feel fleeting. Each new cabinet appointment brings with it the certainty that the Project 2025 agenda looms larger every day. I’m holding on, but not without struggle.

In this season of emotional turbulence, I find myself retreating. I’ve taken to asking curious questions or offering clarifying data on social media, but even those efforts to engage feel exhausting. When I hit my limit, I block and move on. And then there are the escapes. Sometimes it’s a glass of wine with a friend, other times it’s sugar or shopping—none of which truly serve me. Recently, I even found myself at a casino, losing myself in the blinking lights of a slot machine. I slipped on my new noise-canceling earbuds, cranked up the music on my phone, and let the sensory overload take me away. For a couple of hours, it was blissful, yet there was an edge of danger in how addictive it felt.

I've even found myself on youTube, listening to someone talk about bubble votes and how swing states had an inordinate amount of them compared to the rest of the states this election. Could it be possible that this election was really stolen? Did Harris concede too soon? Why didn't she demand a recount in the swing states? Now am I the one to be accused of being a conspiracy theorist! The truth is, I don't trust Donald Trump. I wouldn't put anything past his desperation to do whatever it takes to keep himself out of jail. Jack Smith dropping the charges because he is the sitting president literally made me sick to my stomach. What is wrong with a system that allows a twice impeached, convicted felon, and rapist to run for office in the first place?

I could go on. Suffice to say, I'm still not okay. I'm still angry. I'm still beyond frustrated. I'm disgusted. And I'm tired. Lately, I’ve been seeking healthier escapes. I turn to nature, the quiet presence of animals and connecting with like minded others. Still, even conversations with like-minded souls—while necessary—often leave me drained. The weight of collective grief and anxiety is ever-present. I am not one for fear, but I fear I will feel this way for another four years. 

Yesterday, my cousin texted me about a dream she had about me. She asked if I was sick. She saw me lying in bed, hooked to an IV bag. In the dream, she felt certain I had cancer and that the IV bag contained chemotherapy. Intrigued by the subconscious symbolism, I asked her about the scene. Was I lying down or sitting? Was it chaotic or peaceful? Was I in a hospital or just a bed? She told me I was lying down in a peaceful setting—not in a hospital.

In real life, I’m not physically sick, but I can’t ignore the deeper message. I feel like the “cancer” in her dream isn’t mine alone—it’s the collective cancer of what’s ailing our country. The IV bag represents my need to heal. Not in chaos, but in a calm and intentional way.

I am healing, deeply, from the emotional toll of these times. I know this healing is essential. Still, the need to escape is constant. I balance my moments of escape with small victories—checking things off my task list, buying a small Christmas tree, planning Thanksgiving dinner for me and my Dad, and spending time reflecting on what’s next for me. There’s light on the horizon. In early December, I’ll be attending a week long retreat at a private luxury compound in the hills of Acapulco, Mexico. This opportunity came to me in a magical sort of way and promises to provide some clarity, inspiration, and rejuvenation for the next chapter of my life.

For now, I focus on the present. One day at a time. One hour at a time. One minute at a time. One breath at a time.

Reflection Questions

1. What “escapes” do you find yourself turning to during challenging times? Are they helping you heal, or are they temporary distractions?
2. When you feel heavy or overwhelmed, what spaces or activities bring you peace and clarity?
3. How can you actively create moments of healing—mentally, emotionally, or spiritually—amid the noise of life’s challenges?

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Remember, healing isn’t linear, and it’s okay to take it one breath at a time. If you’re feeling a similar weight, know that you’re not alone—and that even the smallest steps toward healing can make a difference.

Living in the mountains of New Hampshire, November always carries a certain kind of magic. This is the time of year when the chill settles in, and we prepare for the long, snowy months ahead. We stack wood, fill our sand/salt buckets, get our snow shovels ready, and enjoy our first cup of coffee snuggled up under a down comforter with furry friends for an extra bit of warmth. The first dusting of snow blankets the valley, and we can look up to see the snowcapped peaks of the White Mountains glistening in the sunlight. Ski areas are buzzing with anticipation, as avid skiers and snowboarders unpack their gear and scrape off summer wax, eager to carve the first tracks of the season. I was one of those winter enthusiasts, embracing the cold with excitement and a sense of adventure.

But this year, my "wintering" looks very different. I am in Florida, far from the familiar snow-covered landscapes, the frosty mornings, and the cozy evenings by the fireplace. This year, my winter isn’t marked by the usual rituals of pulling out ski gear and getting snow shovels ready. Instead, I’m experiencing a different kind of winter—a season of deep rest, reflection, and hibernation of the soul.

In the past month, I’ve navigated immense change. I sold my beloved retreat property, closed one of my businesses, and sorted through a lifetime of belongings—storing, selling, donating, and letting go. It was an intense whirlwind of decisions and emotions, made even more challenging by the unexpected waves of anxiety and sadness stirred up by the recent election results. My heart aches with a deep sense of concern for our collective future, and my spirit feels unsettled as I watch the post-election chaos unfold. It’s as if I’ve been burning the candle at both ends, and now I find myself with little wax left in the middle.

So, for now, I’m wintering—a term that has taken on a whole new meaning in this season of my life. I’ve traded the crisp New England air for the humid warmth of Florida, where I’m staying with my 88-year-old dad. It’s a different kind of nesting.

I’m nesting, taking time to create a comforting, nurturing environment here in my dad’s home..

I’m resting, leaning into the power of retreat and recovery.

I'm reading. Two book are my companions: The Art of Doing Nothing: Simple Ways to Make Time for Yourself and Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times. They are gentle reminders that this season of hibernation is necessary—that it’s okay to step back, to pause, and to allow myself the time and space to simply be.

I’m writing more than I have in a long time. I’ve started a new blog series called A Journey Back to Hope, where I’m sharing raw, unfiltered reflections about what it feels like to navigate the aftermath of the election and the deep-seated fears that so many of us are experiencing. I’m also working on a new book, What I’ve Learned from Other People’s Kids That Parents Need to Know, a teaching memoir that draws from my years in adolescent development and sex education.

I’m still coaching my clients and staying open to new opportunities, but I’m allowing myself the grace to explore slowly, without the pressure of making big moves or decisions right now.

This season is about taking it one day at a time, listening to my heart, and soothing my soul as I move through this deeply personal transition, while also witnessing the global shift we’re all a part of. It’s a time of deep uncertainty and yet, strangely, a time of possibility. As I lean into this sort of wintering, I’m reminded that even in the darkest, coldest seasons, there is a quiet, potent magic at work—a space where transformation happens, unseen but profound.

I invite you to join me in this space of hibernation and exploration. Let’s honor this time of quiet, rest, and reflection together and finding moments of peace, comfort, and perhaps, a little bit of magic.

May your own "wintering," however it looks, bring you the rest and renewal your heart needs. And may you find the courage to embrace this season, not with fear, but with a gentle curiosity about what lies ahead.

Reflection Questions:

1. As you look back on your own week, what moments of transition or change did you experience? How did you navigate them, and what emotions surfaced for you?
2. How might you create your own version of "wintering"—a space for rest, reflection, or simply slowing down—even if your current season feels busy or uncertain?
3. What small steps can you take this week to nurture your heart and soul, allowing yourself the grace of rest or retreat, even for just a few moments each day?

​To read more in the A Journey Back to Hope series, click here.

This weekend, I’m inviting us all to take a moment for lightness, creativity, or even the briefest spark of joy. I’ll be honest: joy has felt distant lately. My heart feels heavy, and I suspect this weight may linger for a while. The recent election has left me frustrated and disheartened and the daily updates of cabinet picks make me angry. It is very difficult to reconcile that so many chose a leader whose values feel so at odds with kindness, truth, integrity, and justice.

But in these times, I find myself returning to the small, grounding practices that help me stay afloat. I’m setting firm boundaries around how much chaos I let into my world. I'm doing my best to stay connected to gratitude instead. I’ve been finding comfort in small rituals: watching the sunrise and sunset, feeling the soft purring of my cats, Luna and Sundae, as I pet them, spending time with my Dad reminiscing about childhood memories and laughing. It’s amazing how such simple things as gratitude, laughter and simple moments of joy can shift my energy from all that is happening in the world right now. Oh, and deep heart breaths when I feel triggered.

I’m grateful for the people in my life who hold space for me, exactly as I am—sadness, frustration, and all. I’m grateful for the writing that lets me process these complex emotions. I'm grateful for a couple of projects that have been slowly bringing a bit of happiness back into my days. I'm grateful for conversations with like minded others who validate my feelings. And when the overwhelm starts to creep in, I turn to the tools I know well, like heart breathing and the practice of uncommon appreciation. They ground me and help me refocus on what I can control, even when the world feels wild and out of reach. They both take some practice, but these gratitude practices are foundational for me. I suggest you check them out!

Joy will come, I believe that. It is actually there in each and every moment, if I choose to notice and embrace it. But for now, I’m honoring this mix of emotions I am navigating.

Reflection Questions for the Weekend

1. What small, grounding practices bring you comfort in heavy times?
2. Can you recall a recent moment of lightness or joy, however fleeting, that made you smile?
3. What is one thing you’re grateful for today, even if it feels small or insignificant?
4. How can you give yourself permission to feel what you’re feeling without judgment?

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Let this space be one where we can collect and share these tiny moments of beauty and reminders of hope.

The past two months have been an emotional whirlwind for me—packing, moving, selling my property in New Hampshire, liquidating one of my businesses, traveling to Canada and then across the US for several business events and finally landing in Florida to spend some time with my eighty-eight year old Dad.

Oh, and the election!

I’m acutely aware of the shift in energy that surrounds me here in Florida compared to the energy of my northern New Hampshire town. The truth is, it doesn't matter where any of us are, many of us are finding ourselves especially sensitive to the post election dynamics happening all over our country.

Yesterday, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few things. As I walked through the unfamiliar aisles in my Dad's community, I found myself in a sea of red MAGA hats. I was immediately overwhelmed. I felt a wave of anger and disgust come over me. I didn’t see the individual human beings beneath those hats—I only felt the sharp sting of the symbols they chose to display. It was a like a neon sign telling me who they are, how they think and how they choose to show up in the world. Divided with no interest in connecting with anything but their own beliefs and displaying their, offensive to me, symbols. It was jarring and took me by surprise. I had to stop, take a deep breath, and ground myself. Wait, was it really a sea of MAGA or was it just a couple of hats? In the moment, it really didn't matter. I was triggered and my nervous system was doing it's adrenalin thing. 

As I stood there, trying to calm down and catch my breath, I noticed a young man crouched on the floor next to me stocking the lower shelves. His energy seemed light and kind. He looked up and asked, “How are you today, Ma’am?” It was a lifeline. Without thinking, I blurted out, “I would be much better if I wasn’t surrounded by so many MAGA hats!” He paused for a moment, then responded softly, “Yup, there is a lot of that around here. You'll get used to it. I know I had to.” "I don't get it," I responded. "Neither do" I, he replied.

His words and the quiet empathy behind them took me back to my years working with teens and young adults, listening to their private confessions about the adults in their lives and the disconnect, even dissonance they often felt with them. I can't tell you the number of conversations I've had with young people since 2016 who struggled with the fact that their parents and grandparents could actually support a bully who, if he behaved like that in school, would get detention or even suspended. 

I can't tell you how many times through this election cycle I heard or read, "I don't like his behavior. It's his policies that I'm voting for." And every time, all I could think was, do you really care more about money and your beliefs than you do about honesty, integrity, values and the example you are setting for our youth and the foundation you are laying for future generations? And I couldn't help but wonder where they got the information upon which they would cast their vote. 

In that brief exchange with that young grocery clerk, I was reminded that while the outer symbols can feel overwhelming and trigger an automatic physical and emotional response, there’s always a deeper current beneath—one that’s not always visible but is palpable. It carries a bit of hope and might provide a moment of solace at a time when we need it most.

Also, during this election cycle, I have definitely become more judgmental. I see a symbol, like a hat or a lawn sign or a flag, and I immediately cast judgment about the people behind the symbol. In time, I often get to a point where I can find empathy, compassion, understanding and acceptance. However, right now, I am simply not there.

Reflection Questions

• What symbols or outward appearances trigger strong emotions for you and why?
• Have you ever found yourself reacting strongly to the symbols or outward appearances in a public space? What did you notice about your internal response?
• In moments of discomfort or disconnection, what helps you ground yourself and find common humanity?

​Scroll down to leave a comment with your thoughts or share any similar experiences and how you dealt with the challenge. 

​PS If you're interested in the breathing technique I use to find calm when I get triggered, you can download it here. It's based on a Heart Math Institute technique called Quick Coherence Heart Breathing. It takes a bit of practice, but once you've got it, you can calm down in just one breath!

Transitioning into a new chapter of life is like standing on the edge of a cliff—exciting yet terrifying. As I prepare to close the door on a life I've loved and step into a future full of possibilities, I find myself caught between fear and excitement. The sale of my retreat center in New Hampshire is just around the corner, and while I'm grateful for the time and financial freedom it promises, the uncertainty of what comes next is daunting.

At 65, after a busy, fun and fulfilling career, I find myself leaning into the legacy phase of my life. It's a place I've never been before, complete with thoughts I've never thought and feelings I've never felt. I am in a place where I feel fully integrated. I've dealt with life challenges, work challenges, money challenges, relationship challenges and have learned so much from each. I've accumulated life skills, work skills, money management skills, relationship skills that I use every day. I chose to dive into personal growth and learned to release certain patterns of behavior that no longer serve me. I've learned how to fully feel my emotions and not push them down or away. For the first time in my life, I feel fully integrated as a person. I know who I am, what I like, what I don't like, what I need, what I want, what I don't need, what I won't tolerate. I've learned patience, acceptance, compassion and how to set boundaries. I've learned how to dream. I've learned how to manifest what I want in life. And yet, fear still creeps in as I begin to fully embrace this legacy phase of my life.

Here are five tips I’m using to shift from fear to excitement as I navigate this unknown territory:

1. Acknowledge Your Fear—Then Reframe It
Fear often signals that something important is happening. Instead of letting it paralyze you, try reframing it as a sign that you're on the brink of something big. When I feel that knot of anxiety, I remind myself that it’s just my brain's way of preparing for change. Fear isn’t an enemy; it’s an ally nudging you to stay alert and engaged. Ask yourself: What’s the worst that could happen? Then flip it—what’s the best that could happen? The unknown holds as much promise as it does uncertainty.

2. Anchor Yourself in the Present
While it’s natural to project into the future, dwelling on what might go wrong can intensify fear. Instead, focus on the present moment. I’ve found solace in small routines—setting up a cozy workspace overlooking my dad's parklike backyard, taking walks, and enjoying lunches with friends. These daily anchors ground me in the now, making the future feel less overwhelming. Remember, the only moment you have control over is this one.

3. Visualize Your Ideal Future
Use your imagination not to anticipate fears, but to visualize the life you want. I often picture myself traveling, writing, and exploring new opportunities with the freedom I’ve worked so hard to achieve. Visualizing positive outcomes shifts your mindset from what you might lose to what you stand to gain. It transforms fear into excitement, turning the unknown into a canvas for your dreams.

4. Embrace the Adventure Mindset
Every new phase in life is an adventure, with its own set of challenges and rewards. Rather than fearing the discomfort of stepping out of your comfort zone, embrace it as a sign that you're growing. I remind myself that the most fulfilling experiences in my life came from taking risks and embracing change. Adventure isn’t about the absence of fear—it’s about stepping into the unknown with curiosity and courage.

5. Trust Your Journey
Finally, trust that everything you’ve done up to this point has prepared you for what’s next. The sale of my property is a significant milestone, but it’s just one step in a longer journey. Trust that the same intuition and resilience that guided you in the past will continue to lead you forward. Believe that every challenge is an opportunity to grow, and that your journey, with all its twists and turns, is unfolding exactly as it should.

Transition is just the beginning of a new adventure; one that promises growth, discovery, and freedom. It challenges us to acknowledge the fear, get out of our head, connect with our heart and be present in each moment. I once heard that fear is simply excitement without the breath. Breathing is a simple, yet powerful way to to become present in the moment, however it's only the beginning of the journey from the head to the heart. If you could use some support through a life transition, click here to check out our FREE mini course The Journey from Head to Heart.

The other day, I had a literal and figurative encounter that jolted me into a powerful revelation about love, boundaries, and self-respect. Love is not all we need.

As I was driving along a familiar road, a large truck came around a corner, moved into my lane and forced me to pull into the shoulder to avoid a collision. It happened at a slow speed, in slow motion and the experience had a sort of ethereal quality to it. I saw the face of the driver. It was someone I met years ago. Someone whom I still love deeply. Someone who crosses my path consistently. Someone with whom I had once thought I would build a life with.

I pulled off the road, closed my eyes, took a deep breath and felt the effects of an adrenalin surge. As I was settling down, he texted me to explain what happened from his perspective. Something about a corner and a hill and losing power in the truck ... but I was much more immersed in the symbolism that was coming forth. It struck me really hard in that moment on the side of the road. The truth is, every time he crosses my path, I am run off the road I'm traveling. Today, his truck literally ran me off my path. The experience somehow felt important. I sat there and let it all integrate.

Our history is filled with love, passion, fun, regret, deep connection, misunderstanding, frustration and missed opportunities. A few weeks ago he showed up in my driveway as I was getting ready for yet another trip to my storage unit. He asked me why I was giving up on my dream. His question jolted me off the path I was on and sent me into some deep and valuable contemplation.

A week later, he asked me to meet him for a conversation. I'm getting ready to leave town for awhile, maybe forever, and he told me he had some things he wanted to say to me before I left. When we met, he expressed regret for how things turned out. He expressed sadness that we didn't do things differently when we had the chance. He told me he missed the good parts of what we once shared. He apologized for his part of what went wrong between us. I mirrored his feelings, expressed some of my own and apologized for my part of it all. We both left feeling with some closure around the way things are, along with some sadness for how things had played out. I have to admit that I found myself feeling that old familiar glimmer of hope that I've felt every time we've reconnected.

But the truck encounter put things into profound perspective. 

The truth is, he has built a life with someone else. Their relationship has been rocky, but he chooses to stay, bound by circumstances and decisions he cannot or chooses not to undo. But he keeps showing up in my life. Each time he shows up, I feel the glimmer. And every time, I am knocked off my path. This time, he literally ran me off the road. And, as I sat on the side of the road, I finally saw the pattern and got the message that has finally set me free of the glimmer.

Love, to be healthy, must be mutual, respectful, and supportive. It must foster honesty, trust, and give each other space to grow. It is not something to be kept hidden. It's something to be embraced, celebrated, honored, cherished. It is a choice.

Here are the core tenets of what healthy love should look like:

Mutual Respect

Healthy love is built on mutual respect. It means recognizing each other's worth, valuing each other's feelings, and honoring each other's paths. It's about understanding that respect is non-negotiable and must be present in every interaction.

Honesty

Honesty is the foundation of trust. It's about being truthful, even when it's difficult. It means having open conversations about feelings, desires, and disappointments. In a healthy relationship, honesty should never be compromised.

Healthy Boundaries

Boundaries are essential for maintaining individuality and respect within a relationship. They help define what is acceptable and what is not, ensuring that both partners feel safe and valued. Boundaries prevent one person from overpowering the other and keep the relationship balanced.

Trust

Trust is the cornerstone of any healthy relationship. It's about knowing that your partner has your best interests at heart and will support you through thick and thin. Trust is earned through consistent actions and genuine care.

Support

A loving relationship should be a source of support and encouragement. It means standing by each other through challenges, celebrating each other's successes, and being a constant source of strength. Support in a relationship fosters growth and resilience.

Space to Grow

Healthy love allows for personal growth. It recognizes that each partner is an individual with their own dreams, goals, and needs. Giving each other space to grow ensures that both partners can thrive both individually and together.

Understanding Love Languages

Showing love in a way that both partners understand and appreciate is crucial. This means recognizing and honoring each other's love languages, whether it's through words of affirmation, acts of service, physical touch, quality time, or gifts.

Reflecting on my experience, I realize that while the love between my old lover and me is real, it lacks the essential components of healthy love. His inability to make a change and my choice to let him in when he shows up has consistently disrupted my path and prevents both of us from truly moving forward.

In love, as in life, it is vital to choose paths that nurture our well-being and growth. Sometimes, this means letting go of friendships and relationships that, despite deep affection, do not support our journey toward a healthy and fulfilling life. The lesson I learned on that roadside is one of self-respect and the importance of healthy love—a love that builds us up rather than breaks us down.

As I continue my journey, I am committed to embracing love that embodies mutual respect, honesty, healthy boundaries, trust, support, growth, and understanding. Only then are we able to expand our capacity for love and experience the kind of love and friendship that aligns with our path, supports our next steps and propels us forward.

All that said, I believe in twin souls, soul mates, soul contracts and past life connections. It's the only thing that makes sense based on some of my own life experiences that cannot be explained any other way, including my relationship with this man.  And so, for each time I've been literally or figuratively run off the road, I am grateful ... for that is where I've learned some of my most profound lessons, my greatest growth occurred and I've learned what's most important in life ... that we can love from a distance and that expanding our understanding of and our capacity for love is what this life is all about.  

I'm in the hallway.

There are so many doors. Some are wide open. Some just barely, casting slivers of light where I stand. Others are closed. Some are locked forever, keys thrown away in moments of intentional choice. A few doors remain unlocked, inviting further exploration should I choose to venture through—perhaps for the first time or perhaps to visit a piece of the past yet to be resolved.

This hallway isn't just a passage between the rooms of my life; it's a space of reflection and transformation. As I prepare to sell my beloved property, retire from a rewarding career in education and healthcare, and venture towards new creative horizons, I find myself here—in this corridor of transition.

The Hallway of Life’s Big Changes
Selling the property that once buzzed with the energy of retreat attendees and AirBnB guest and now serves as home to health professionals who rest a between shifts, is much more than a financial decision. It's a symbolic release of a past era and the embrace of a new sort of freedom. Each room holds memories of laughter, learning, connection, growth, and sometimes cleansing tears, much like the chapters of the books I've written and read. Letting go is bittersweet, yet necessary to support my next steps towards physical, financial, emotional and spiritual freedom.

Caring for my aging father has added a poignant door in my hallway. It's one of those doors that swung open unexpectedly, and though it's challenging at times, has enriched my life with invaluable moments and  a testament to the cycle of life.
Retirement from my career is another significant door. I spent over four decades as a health care practitioner, teacher, trainer and coach impacting young people. Closing this door was not about ending a journey but about completing a fulfilling chapter that empowers me to take what I’ve learned and apply it in a new direction.

The Window of Possibilities
As daunting as the hallway can seem, there's a window here too. It frames the changing skies, sometimes bright and sometimes stormy, reminding me that life too varies between clarity and challenge. The fresh air it lets in is like the new ideas and aspirations filling my mind and feeding my soul. Writing has always been a passion, and now, with more time, I can devote myself fully to it. Finishing up lingering projects feels like tidying up this hallway, preparing for a cleaner, more organized stride into the future.

The Doors Yet to Open
And what of the doors that are still closed or slightly ajar? These represent the untapped potential, the dreams yet dreamt, and the experiences waiting to be had. One or two of the doors remind me that I still have pieces of my past left to address. As I consider my next steps,  I see these doors as opportunities for adventure and self-discovery, providing insight into a new aspect of the world, life, love myself and those who share some steps on my journey.

Creating Space in the Hallway
In this transition, I've learned the importance of intentional action. It's not enough to passively move from one door to the next. One must pause in the hallway, understand the space, decorate it with thoughts of hope, and place memories on its walls. This active engagement makes the hallway not just a route, but a place of peace and transformation.

The Lessons from the Hallway
This hallway teaches resilience. It shows that transitions are not to be feared as voids of uncertainty but embraced as avenues of growth and enlightenment. The doors we open, close, and sometimes lock are all part of how we manage our journey through life.

The key is to appreciate this in-between space, to understand that while some doors close, others open, and in the hallway, we find ourselves—our truest, most reflective selves.
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Moving Forward with Awareness and Hope
As I prepare to explore new doors, I carry with me the lessons from each door I've passed through. The hallway, with its doors and its windows is no longer just a transition. It's a vital part of my journey, rich with potential and promise.
In embracing my hallway, I find not just a path to new rooms but a deeper understanding of where I’ve been and where I’m headed. It is here, in this space of passage, that I find the courage to continue moving forward.
One door at a time. One day at a time. One moment at a time. One breath at a time.

I recently had an unexpected encounter in my yard with an old friend. He is someone with whom I once shared a deep, intimate and significant relationship. It had been ages since we last spoke, and though the silence of the years lay thick between us, the connection—that kind of soul-deep connection—remains unmistakable.

It was good to see him. We exchanged pleasantries. Then, as we tend to do, we got down into the deep. He posed a question that caught me off guard: "Why are you giving up on your dream?"

Yes, it is true that I am selling my "dream property". Yes, I'm selling the equipment I bought for that ice cream shop I once dreamed about opening. Yes, I'm heading to Florida to spend some time with my aging Dad even though I don't like Florida much. Yes, there is a financial component to my decision to sell. My head was swimming with so many thoughts I thought I had already sorted through.

"I simply want to be free with no obligations or responsibilities," I heard myself say to him.

I must admit, his question rattled me a bit. I heard his voice in my head asking it over and over as I went about my day. When I finally had a chance to sit quietly and explore what was up for me, I realized that his question was simply an opportunity for me to reflect on all that is happening in my life right now, none of which he is a part of anymore. He is a man who goes after what he wants. I've watched him manifest his dreams over the years we spent together. I must admit, coming from him, the question "Why are you giving up on your dream?" is one that might have unsettled me for a long time, had I not spent some time deeply engaged in what Marcia Weider, founder of Dream University, might call a "period of discernment."

You see, I haven't given up on my dream. Instead, I have allowed it to evolve as I have evolved. I am not the same person I was when I was in relationship with this man. I am not even the same person I was yesterday! None of us are.

As I approached my 65th birthday, I gave myself the profound gift of debriefing my life. I took a deliberate journey through memories, lessons, and countless shifts. This reflection has brought incredible insight and clarity and is fueling the dream that I am living today as well as the new one I am actively creating for my future. I'm grateful to myself for setting up my life in such a way that I've had this reflection time. I'm also grateful for the freedom to take simple steps and lean into what feels like the next right step for my life.

It’s vital to recognize when a dream no longer serves you. Holding on to what was can prevent us from embracing what could be. Integrity at a soul level demands that we know who we are and what is truly ours to do—and just as importantly, what is not. This discernment allows us to clear space for new dreams, making us more available to fulfill our evolving roles and visions.

The process has not been fast, nor has it been easy, but it has been important for me. Those who have supported me over the past couple of years know that the journey I've been on. They have witnessed bits and pieces of the emotional roller coaster ride I've been on. And in this process of moving through the waves of emotions and letting go of what I once desired, I have found immense and indescribable freedom. Freedom from the constraints, responsibilities and attachments of outdated aspirations, and freedom to embrace a future created by the person I am now, not who I once was. This freedom has become the cornerstone of my new dream, one that will be fueled by the financial and emotional freedom I will experience once my property is sold and I'm able to spend some quality time with my Dad, and more fully explore the spiritual landscapes of my own growth and human potential.

Perhaps the most beautiful thing for me right now is to acknowledge my old dream for the learning, the lessons and the growth it provided me. Little does my friend know how that one question has served me in the next steps towards my new life. Another benefit of letting go of the dream that no longer inspires me is to witness how letting go of my old dream is supporting someone else's new dream of opening an ice cream shop or owning a retreat center or bed and breakfast in the mountains.

Through actions that reflect my true desires and resonate with the core of my being, I am discovering the ultimate way to create and pursue new dreams. Perhaps, this is what we are all meant to do: to inspire and invite others by who we are being, and by the dreams we dare to pursue.

So, to my old friend, thank you for your visit, your question and for helping me dig a little deeper into why I'm doing what I'm doing. And to anyone wondering about the dreams I’ve let go, know this: I am not giving up. I am simply moving forward. With each step and in any given moment, I act on what’s important to my heart and my soul. For that is serving my new dream. And that is a journey worth embracing at any age.

If you are interested in hearing what Marcia Wieder has to say about dreams and discernment, you can listen to her here.

Although I've liquidated all the ice cream equipment, if your dream is to own a bed and breakfast or a retreat center, I might be able to help you make that one come true here: 
https://search.suzannedamon.com/listing-detail/1125091499/1527_Village_RD-Madison-NH

As the first light of dawn crept through my window, casting a serene glow over my room and the lake I could see from my bed, I found myself in an all too familiar position: my foot propped up on pillows, with my ever-faithful Luna nestled by my good foot and Sundae stretched out alongside me. Just a week prior, I had donned my air cast with a triumphant spirit and grasped my crutches firmly as I ventured out to do a few errands. I was grateful to be pain-free and to be able to drive again. It felt so good to be out and about. Although I was moving at a much slower pace, each step was a testament to my resilience and determination to embrace life's unplanned pauses and the payoff for resting for a whole week after I injured my ankle.


However, life, with its penchant for unpredictability, had more lessons in store. The very next day, a stark reminder of my vulnerability arrived in the form of renewed pain and swelling, prompting a retreat back to the familiar regimen of rest, ice, vitamin I (ibuprofen), and elevation. I added heat to the regimen to promote healing as the acute phase of the injury was over. My furry companions, Luna and Sundae, shared the therapeutic benefits of their purring and snuggly presence and were a balm to my spirits. I repeated this cycle of a day of rest and then some time out and about. What I discovered is that I was doing too much. I was in more pain than I was when I first injured my ankle, and the swelling seemed to come back with a vengeance. I decided to commit to several days of rest and a follow-up appointment for a reevaluation of the injury. Something wasn’t right.


In the midst of this forced slowdown, a severe winter storm was brewing on the horizon, promising an unprecedented deluge of snow. Initially, I paid little attention to the warnings; after all, it was late March, the temperature had started to warm up, the crocus were blooming, the daffodils were coming up, and there were robins everywhere! Yet, as the hours ticked down, the forecast only grew more ominous, culminating in a relentless 24-hour snowfall that left our village buried under an astonishing 30 inches of snow. Faced with this unexpected challenge, my independence was once again put to the test. My lodging property, now serving as a haven for traveling health care professionals, was now buried under two and a half feet of snow. When I looked outside, I saw that my car had disappeared and had been replaced with a snow bump. I was physically incapable of managing the aftermath of the storm. The simple act of navigating downstairs had become an insurmountable hurdle, let alone shoveling the entryway or uncovering and moving our snow-engulfed so the plow guy could clear the parking lot.


Reluctantly, I reached out for help, calling upon my plow service and appealing to the kindness of my tenants. Their responses were immediate and heartwarming; one tenant diligently kept the entryway clear, while another volunteered to excavate my car from its snowy tomb. In those moments, I was reminded of the profound strength found in community and the grace of receiving assistance with humility and gratitude. I also learned that I feel much better when I am the one helping others. This experience, though fraught with frustration and moments of helplessness, taught me invaluable lessons about the nature of rest and the importance of pacing oneself through life's trials. I learned that being idle does not equate to being unproductive; rather, it offers a precious opportunity for reflection and growth. I have done some writing, outlined a new online course, and finished knitting a pair of socks that have been unfinished since last winter.


It taught me that asking for help is not a sign of weakness but a courageous act of self-care and an invitation for others to show their support and kindness. Most importantly, it reinforced my belief in the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of gratitude. As I slowly regain my mobility, am humbled when I do too much, and the physical limitations imposed by my injury continue to remind me to slow down, the storm became a metaphor for the unexpected hurdles we all encounter. These challenges compel us to pause, reflect, recalibrate our priorities, and ask for help, often leading us to discover strength we never knew we had and a renewed sense of purpose.


As the snow melts and the promise of spring returns, I carry forward the lessons learned from the heart of the storm: the power of community, the importance of rest, and the infinite value of a grateful heart. It's not about how quickly we can return to what we’ve always done but how we choose to navigate the detours, savor the pauses, and appreciate the beauty and lessons they bring into our lives. In the end, it's not the storms that define us, but how we choose to weather them and how we choose to express gratitude to those who help us along the way.



Stay tuned for my new online mini course: What I've Learned from Other People's Kids that Parents of Teens Need to Know. To be notified when this new course is released, enter your email address below. This info is sure to help parents (and grandparents and anyone who works with teens) to improve their understanding of how teens think, why they do what they do and how you can best support them.

It began like any other day in the bustling corridors of one of the middle schools where I had the privilege of teaching a two week unit on sexuality education. Yet, that morning in 2019, an unexpected disturbance rippled through the morning routine, leaving an indelible mark on my consciousness.

As I entered the classroom, I found my co-teacher visibly unsettled by something she had encountered at home while getting ready for school that morning. It wasn't typical for either of us to start our days streaming breaking news; we were both inclined to start our day in quiet meditation preparing to deal with high energy middle school students and do our best to carry that energy into the classroom. However, this morning, the air crackled with tension.

When I asked her what was up, she shared that she saw a snippet from the national news when she poked her head into the home gym where her husband was working out and watching the news. Just a few seconds of video had pierced through her meditative state, thrusting her into the tumultuous realm of political discourse. President Trump was on national news and had called congressman Adam Schiff a "pencil neck”. It didn't end there. He continued to put him down in front of a crowd of adults who stood behind Trump laughing and clapping in support of his insults. The snippet had ignited a firestorm of emotion within my colleague. Her frustration, bordering on outrage, stemmed not only from the Trump's  behavior but also from the stark contrast it presented against our efforts to instill values of respect and empathy within our student community.

As educators, we tread a delicate balance, striving to nurture young minds while shielding them from the toxicity of divisive rhetoric. Yet, in that moment, it became painfully clear that the boundaries between the political arena and our classroom were porous, with implications far-reaching and profound. My colleague's impassioned state resonated with me deeply, prompting a period of introspection that would shape the trajectory of what happened next in that classroom over 5 years ago and why I'm writing this today. For, you see, beneath the veneer of political debate lies a more profound truth: the undeniable influence of adult behavior on the moral compass of our children.

In the classroom, where young minds come together to explore the complexities of the human experience, I bore witness to the subtle yet profound ways in which parental views and adult behavior seep into the fabric of our children's worldview. With over twenty five years of classroom experience, I have grown increasingly aware of the weight of our collective responsibility as parents, educators, family and community, in shaping the values and attitudes that will guide future generations. As we stand on the precipice of yet another pivotal election, the echoes of one specific classroom experience, prompted by the President calling another human being a derogatory name, reverberate within me.

I’ve thought twice about sharing this story publically. I'm not sure why. But, in the final analysis, our allegiance lies not merely with political factions or ideologies but with the enduring welfare of our young people who look to us for guidance and inspiration.

So with future generations in mind, here’s what happened in that classroom.

The teacher did a daily starting activity. She would present a current event, a quote or a story and have the students reflect on it. She would then ask them to write their reflections in their journals for a minute or so. Then she would ask them to share their thoughts and insights with the class. This start-up acgtivity was a wonderful way to engage them, challenge them to form their opinions, notice their own thoughts and practice sharing them with others. That day, she wanted to present the scenario at the rally with Trump putting down Schiff and with the crowd of adults cheering, laughing and clapping. She wanted to see what the kids thought about it relative to the new bullying/harrassment policy that had been implemented.

Before the conversation began, she and I had a discussion about what might happen. My guess was that we could open a can of worms and trigger something that could lead to a challenging situation. I left it up to her. It was her classroom and I was a guest. She knew school policy and what she was willing to do in class. We both knew that health was one of those classes that covered lots of challenging topics and we were quite used to handling whatever came up. I feel comfortable with any topic, after all, I teach puberty and sex education to elementary, middle and high school students all day long. I was quite sure we could handle whatever happened in the classroom as a result of the activity. She decided to go forward.

She began the conversation by reminding the kids of the school's policy on bullying and harassment. She asked how many kids had seen or heard the incident she had seen on the news. About 1/3 of the kids raised their hands. She asked what they thought about the behavior relative to the school policy. What happened next was fascinating.

The kids blurted things out.
"That was not okay!"
"That was bullying."
"He would have to go to the principal's office if he did that here!"
"He would get detention!”
"How come he can do it but we get in trouble in school for calling people names?"
"My mom says he's a narcissist and that's why he does stupid things like that."
"Yeah, how come adults can call people names? I can't when I come to school, but my parents do it all the time at home!"

The kids continued to blurt out their statements, forgetting to raise their hands. I noticed one kid sitting in the back corner of the room with his hand raised. I had never heard him speak in the week I had been in class. While the other kids blurted, he patiently held up his hand. I quieted the kids down and called on him to share.

"To be honest, I'm kind of scared," he said.
"Can you tell me more about what you're scared about?" I asked.
"I'm not sure but something is just not right. He is our president and he doesn't act like someone who should be president."

I asked the kids if anyone else had anything to share about what this kid just shared.

"I don't understand why my parents like the President. He's mean."
"I feel confused."
"I'm scared too. If he's the boss of our country, what's going to happen?"
"When we have a bully in school, there is sometimes a fight. Is he going to get in a fight with someone or another country?"

I was surprised that the kids were sharing so openly and candidly about their fears. I was taken by the connection they made between Trump's behavior and what happens when bullying and fights occur in school. It was also interesting to hear them try to reconcile their parents' support of a man that, in their eyes, was mean to others. Young teenagers aren’t always able to make that sort of connection and put it into words. As I witnessed it, I couldn't help but wonder if them making the connection had anything to do with the constant media coverage playing in the background of many households and the subconscious impact that might be having on kids. Although a fascinating theory to explore, I brought my attention back to the classroom. 

When you talk with kids about sexuality, they often ask questions about other sensitive topics that they may be curious about or need help navigating in their own lives. I redirected the discussion and tried to put it into some context of what we had already talked about in class. In the previous week of class, we had touched on mental health and the importance of having support systems in our lives. I got an intuitive hit to frame the discussion about fear on some things we had already talked about and some things they had already shared about their own lives.

"So remember last week when we talked about mental health? Well, by a show of hands and without mentioning any names or saying any words, how many of you have ever heard about someone being diagnosed with depression?" Most all of the kids raised their hands. "How many of you have ever heard of someone being diagnosed with anxiety disorder?" About 3/4 of the kids raised their hands. "What about bipolar disorder?" About 20 percent of the kids raised their hands. "Does anyone know what all those things are an example of?" "Mental illness!" one student blurted out. "That is correct," I answered.

I went on to explain how clinicians diagnose these mental illnesses and cited one source of diagnostic criteria, the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) which is a tool some clinicians use as a pathway for diagnosing mental illness. I reminded the kids that anyone with a mental health diagnosis typically has friends, family, coworkers, doctors, counselors and a support system to help them when they're struggling.

And then I said something I never, ever could have prepared for. The question slipped out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it. Sometimes I'm guided to say something I never planned to say. It was out before I knew it.

”How many of you have ever heard of narcissistic personality disorder?" A few kids raised their hand, including the girl who previously blurted out that her mom had called Trump a narcissist. I proceeded to explain that there are some people who suspect that our president may have narcissistic personality disorder as he displays many of the characteristics of NPD on national TV. I stated that only a psychiatrist can diagnose him and that TV is not a way someone gets diagnosed, however, TV has been showing us some things that are concerning to some. I also reminded them of confidentiality when dealing with medical issues, another topic we talk about in class. I told them that I felt confident that there are a lot of people in Trump’s support system and who work close to him that are aware there might be a problem and they are supporting him, making sure he is okay and that we are all safe. The same as when someone we know is showing signs of a mental illness in our own family or community and needs some extra support.

I tied it all back to bullying and the idea that a bully usually has a reason in their own life that makes them act like a bully. Maybe it's the way they were brought up. Maybe it's a mental illness. Maybe it's something else. But that basically people are kind and help each other and that sometimes we have to see beyond the mean behavior to see the good in the person, while also holding them accountable for their behavior. “Like detention? Is that sort of like being held accountable?” “Yes!” I said as I remembered how much I love witnessing the adolescent brain making connections.

The tone in the room shifted from one of fear, chaos, and confusion to one of understanding and compassion. The kids were ready to move on, and so were we. I exchanged glances with my co-teacher, took a deep breath and moved on to the sexuality curriculum.

At the end of the day, we both spoke to our supervisors to be sure they were aware of what had happened in class, just in case there were any repercussions. I didn't think there would be, but if there were, it would be headline news. What I've learned about working with teens is that at a certain age, they stop sharing everything about their day with their parents. They are busy integrating endless stimulation, growing their bodies, developing new neural pathways while worrying about what their peers think of them. It's simply part of their developmental process. There were no repercussions, however, I have thought of that class quite often as the political discourse ramps up and I see adults acting in ways that would get them detention if they were in middle or high school. So here I am sharing this story publicly

My Thoughts

I have to be honest. I definitely have had and continue to have my concerns that Trump displays such blatant and dangerous narcissistic behaviors without any significant accountability. Like that kid sitting in the corner with his hand raised waiting patiently to be called on, I too find myself sometimes feeling afraid.
Trumps public behavior is unacceptable. Trump has had and continues to hae an impact on our children. Parents who support Trump are having an impact on their kids. We have seen that translate into inappropriate behaviors in the classroom and widespread permission to act out violently in a our schools and throughout our society.

All that said, I have faith in our kids. They intuitively feel right through the rhetoric and seek to reconcile the meanness, the name-calling, the bullying with what they inherently know in their nature and what they are learning about acceptable behavior. 

A Profound Sense of Urgency

As I flashback to that classroom that happened over 5 years ago, and fast forward to the reality of present day, I am left with a profound sense of urgency. The impact of our leaders on our children cannot be overstated, nor can the responsibility we bear as parents, educators, citizens and communities to navigate this tumultuous terrain with wisdom, compassion and personal responsibility for our own behavior.

Trump's behavior is unacceptable; regardless of his policies.

As we approach another pivotal election, let us heed the voices of our children, who speak not from a place of political partisanship but from a primal instinct for justice and empathy. Let us honor their fears and uncertainties, recognizing that our actions today will shape the world they inherit tomorrow.
It is incumbent upon us to foster an environment of open dialogue and critical thinking, where our children feel empowered to question authority, challenge injustice, and embrace the inherent dignity of every human being.

It is my hope that we will rise to the challenge of nurturing a generation of compassionate leaders, grounded in the values of integrity, empathy, and respect. For in their hands lies the promise of a brighter future, where the echoes of division and discord are drowned out by the resounding chorus of unity, compassion, mutual respect and understanding.

Afterword

As I reflect on all of this, I am reminded of a fundamental truth: our children are always watching, always listening, always taking it in. Whether it's the snippets of conversation overheard at the dinner table or the images flickering across the television screen, they are absorbing every nuance, every contradiction, every inconsistency in their surroundings.

Their real-world experiences are a mosaic of interactions—with peers, teachers, mentors, and yes, even with the wider world of politics. And as they navigate this complex tapestry of influences, they do so with an inherent, intuitive sense of right and wrong, grappling with the challenge of choosing their foundational values and deciding about the kind of adult they want to become.

In this sometimes tumultuous journey, they rely on us, the adults in their lives, to provide guidance, support, and above all, integrity.

It is with a heavy heart that I observe how some Trump supporters, in their zeal to champion certain policies, are willing to overlook the glaring character flaws of the man himself. But let us not be deceived: the presidency is not merely about policies; it is about integrity, accountability, and the embodiment of positive character and moral leadership.

As the highest office in the land, the President of the United States serves as a role model for children everywhere, a beacon of hope and inspiration for future generations. And in this regard, I implore Trump supporters to consider the message they are sending to our youth—a message that prioritizes expediency over ethics, partisanship over principle.

It is not enough to justify poor behavior with political pragmatism; we must hold our leaders to the highest standards of integrity and moral courage. For our children are watching, and they deserve leaders who embody the values of honesty, empathy, and accountability.

My Invitation

As we prepare for the upcoming election and express our thoughts, opinions and, perhaps, frustration in our homes, our workplaces, our communities and on our social media platforms, I invite you to consider that our kids are always watching.

Let us heed their innate wisdom and understanding of fairness and justice.

Let us nurture an environment where they feel empowered to question opinions, to challenge beliefs, to make sense of inconsistencies and to uphold the principles of integrity that form the bedrock of our society.

Let us each take personal responsibility for what we say, what do and how we say and do it.

Let us remember that this is about way more than the stock market, the economy, the border wall, women's health and all the other "kitchen table" issues the campaigns are focused on. This is about raising our kids to be the best human beings they can be, while sparing them the pain of having to sort out the inconsistencies in the messaging they are receiving from the adults in their lives who love them.

For in their hands lies the promise of a brighter tomorrow—a tomorrow where integrity triumphs over pragmatism, and where our leaders lead not only with authority but with authenticity.

Let us rise to this challenge, for the sake of our children and the future they will inherit from us and create for themselves.

I have been humbled. It’s 8:22 am, and I’m propped up on pillows, gazing out over the lake from my bed while the ice works its magic on my ankle. Next, I’ll strap on the air cast and take my next dose of ibuprofen. I’m about 36 hours into my 72 hours of RICE: Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation.

It’s astonishing how quickly life can change, how swiftly we can lose control of the simple, day-to-day things we take for granted, and how our bodies force us to slow down when we struggle to choose that option ourselves.

I woke up with a plan: a mastermind call at 7 am, then to pack up my laptop, my "To Pay" folder, and my laundry basket and head downstairs to do some laundry, pay some bills, and spend the better part of the day writing. I also needed to run to the dump. I run a guest house for traveling nurses, and with everyone working, I had the main house to myself. After putting in a load of laundry and heading to the dump, a call from a neighbor and dear friend invited me for a cup of tea. It was a welcome distraction I’m now profoundly grateful for.

After our chat, I switched over the laundry, started another load, and settled into the recliner in the den with my spreadsheet. Luna, my cat, nestled on my feet for a nap. Suddenly, a loud noise from the laundry room indicated the machine was out of balance. As I got up, Luna jumped off, and I didn’t realize my left foot had gone numb from her weight. It was too late. I put my full weight on it, rolled over my left numb ankle, stumbled, and landed on the floor, hitting my shoulder against the radiator.

For those who’ve experienced a vasovagal response, what happened next will be familiar: dizziness, profuse sweating, nausea, and the telltale flashing of light to black, with the sound in my ears signaling I was about to pass out. I managed to lay down away from the radiator before losing consciousness.

When I came to, sprawled on the floor away from the radiator, the throbbing in my ankle brought RICE to mind. My medical training kicked in automatically. I crawled to the freezer for ice, then onto the couch to elevate and wrap my ankle.

I remembered Sue mentioning her afternoon plans and, swallowing my reluctance to ask for help, called to see if she could fit an ER visit into her day. I’ve learned to ask for—and gratefully accept—help when I need it.

Sue arrived, and I crawled to the car for the ride to the ER, where I was left in capable hands. I left with crutches, an air cast, and a prescription for pain meds. Friends and family have been incredibly supportive, assisting with daily tasks and ensuring I follow my RICE regimen. My brother delivers ice as needed, and I’ve adapted a desk chair with wheels to navigate my home more easily.

As I reflect on this experience, I’m filled with immense gratitude for everyone who has supported me through this unplanned ordeal. Even the nurses who are my tenants have checked on me. My cats are content to keep me company as I rest.

I’ve tried to remain productive, to pay those bills and write more of my memoir, but I can’t focus. My body insists on rest, and I’m learning to heed that call.

This blog post took a full day to write, born from a moment of respite from napping, watching brief segments of Netflix movies, or reading a few pages of a book before losing focus. The simple tasks of daily living, combined with my RICE regimen, now consume all my attention, and I’m learning to embrace it. I welcome the kindness of visitors offering meals or a cup of tea, adjusting my ice pack, and providing company.
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I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the many blessings in my life, and this experience has reminded me that, no matter the challenges we face, there’s always much to be thankful for.

This morning, I felt a chill in my room as I woke. I pulled the covers up to my chin, adjusted my pillows, and snuggled back in. I love mornings when I have no particular place to be. Luna settled back in to my right. Sundae gazed up at me from her usual spot near my feet, slowly blinking her eyes in a way that some cat communication experts say means "I love you" in cat language. I can feel her purr against my foot. I slowly blink back at her, and she blinks again. I reach over to pet Luna, who has snuggled into the crook of my arm. She is also purring, seemingly happy that I opted to settle back in rather than jump out of bed, hit the shower, and head out to wherever it is I go when I leave the house.


"Alexa, turn on the news," I say as I snuggle further under the covers. McConnell endorses Trump. Another attack near Gaza. What the New York mayor is doing to decrease crime on the streets of New York City. An advertisement about investing in gold. Another one from a credit card company with a cash back incentive. Back to a discussion about Biden’s upcoming State of the Union Address followed by a discussion about Trump’s multiple indictments and the fact that he has pretty much clinched the Republican nomination for President.


"Alexa, stop! Turn it off!"


Sundae has moved from my feet and is now sitting next to me, rubbing against me asking for pets. Luna turns over, stretches, and shows me her belly, also asking for pets.


As I pet them, I ask myself why. Why did I interrupt a quiet, peaceful morning by turning on the news? Why do I do that pretty much every morning as part of my morning ritual? When did it become so automatic?


I reflect on the contrast in the way I feel listening to the news versus lying here quietly, all warm and cozy, petting Luna and Sundae and feeling their purrs with my fingers.


Stress versus peace. Frustration versus pure joy. Projection into the past and the future versus staying fully present in the moment.


I have a choice about how I start my day. I am in complete control of my morning ritual. I can choose to create the feelings I want to feel as I set the tone for my day.


Lately, without even thinking much about it, I’ve started a habit of waking up, curling back up in bed, and having a snuggle session with Luna and Sundae while I listen to the news. It has become automatic. Alexa enables the habit, which does nothing more than wind me up and take me out of the peaceful present moment.


Enough. I get to choose. I am, right now, deciding to eliminate the news from my morning routine. I’m taking Alexa out of my bedroom and putting all technology out of reach. My morning routine will consist of waking up, snuggling with the cats, and amping up my vibration with their purring, getting up, making a cup of tea, crawling back into bed propped up for a short meditation, followed by twenty minutes of writing whatever I feel inspired to write about.


I love the concept of building new habits by living life in 30-day experiments. Thus, I’m going to commit to this practice for 30 days and pay attention to how I feel through the process. Alexa, I'll talk to you later. The truth is, the election is eight months away, and I already know who I’m voting for and why. Gaza is thousands of miles away. I don’t live in New York City, and I could really care less about getting a new cash back credit card.


But I can lie content in my bed for a few extra minutes, all warm and cozy under my down comforter, surrounded by purrs and snuggles, focused on the miracle of my breath, raising my own vibration and sending light and love to the world in meditation. And then writing about whatever I’m inspired to write about.


Now that is the way I’d rather start my day! How about you? What can you do in the morning to intentionally raise the vibration of your day?

On February 24, 2024, I celebrated my sixty-fifth birthday in quiet reflection, marking the beginning of what I consider the final act of my life—a period dedicated to creating a lasting legacy. The lead-up to this milestone was not characterized by celebration but rather by introspection, making a couple of major decisions, in the midst of a powerful process of letting go of a dream I once had and some people, places and things that no longer serve me. It was a year for acknowledging that I have integrated the myriad lessons life has taught me and recognizing that as long as I am still breathing, I am still learning and growing. And as long as I am still learning and growing, I have something to offer the world.

For the majority of my life, age was merely a number, obscured by the vibrancy of daily experiences and the satisfaction derived from my passion for working with young people. This work kept me youthful, not just at heart but in spirit, thought, and occasionally, even in defiance or rebellion. However, at sixty-five, I have discovered a serene confidence within myself—a result of overcoming challenges, achieving some success and learning from each experience. My boundaries are now firm, my self-awareness is sharp, and my intentions and aspirations are clear.

This past Christmas, my niece pointed out that I am now the matriarch of the family. Initially, the comment took me aback. I felt something rise up in my body that I knew warranted exploration. What does the word 'matriarch' really mean? The term brought to mind my grandmothers, Alice Day and Alice Jacobson, each of whom embodied the role in unique ways.

Nana Day was the silent observer, harboring unspoken secrets. I often wondered what she might share if she were open to sharing her story She never shared—nor did I inquire. She simply sat in the corner of the dinner table or on a chair in the corner of the room at family gatherings, quiet, safe, and content as the reigning matriarch of my mother's side of the family. Over the years, my mother revealed snippets of the secrets Nana Day held, but never enough to break the chains or the cycle of growing up in an alcoholic family. That was a journey I had to take myself when it showed up in my marriage.

Nana Jacobson presented a contrasting example of matriarchy. She was strong, stoic, proper, and somewhat controlling, with a clear sense of right and wrong and strict expectations for her grandchildren's behavior. My grandfather, Papa, was usually the one talking during our visits. Nana Jacobson's silence was different from Nana Day's. I recall a significant change in her demeanor after they moved into a senior independent living high-rise in Salem, MA. While Papa was facing health challenges, Nana seemed to discover parts of herself she had never known. My stoic Nana radiated pure joy during one visit as she showed me the leotard, tights, and leg warmers she had purchased for her new exercise class. She was buzzing with excitement another time as she showed me her new art supplies and proudly showed me the first painting she created in her new art class. Like Nana Day, she had secrets that remained unspoken, yet she found a way to experience great joy in her later years.

Their lives, characterized by untold stories and personal struggles, laid the foundation for my understanding of familial roles, the dynamic alcoholism created, and the importance of breaking the cycles of silence. I married my high school sweetheart at twenty-nine and learned firsthand about addiction, recovery, and their effects on relationships and families. This ignited a spark within me and fueled my personal growth journey, something which I am passionate about to this day.

My journey has also been shaped by revelations from my father, who, in his late eighties and with all his filters gone, began to unveil previously concealed family secrets. These disclosures, combined with my professional training, my curiosity, my knack for asking good questions and my ability to navigate difficult conversations, have deepened my understanding of my family's history, my role within it, and the significance of uncovering family secrets.

Today, I stand as a new type of matriarch—one who has let go of the tradition of silence for the power of storytelling and truth. I embrace my past, with all its complexities. I own my story and am fully aware of its potential to affect others. My commitment to living my truth and taking 100% responsibility for my thoughts, words, actions, and experiences extends well beyond my own personal development to having an impact on those around me.

As I enter my sixty-fifth year, I shift my focus to creating a legacy through my writing, transformational courses, books, and retreats. My goal is not merely to leave a mark but to empower others to discover their paths, break free from their chains, end destructive cycles and embrace their truth. This stage of my life is dedicated to making a tangible impact, guided by the wisdom and experiences I've accumulated over the years.

In embracing my role as a matriarch, I aim to inspire others to contemplate their legacies, to consider the impact of their actions, and to pursue lives of purpose and transformation. The journey of aging, with its stages and transitions, presents a unique opportunity to craft a legacy that embodies our deepest values and aspirations. As I write my memoir and share my reflections, I invite you to join me on this journey to our true selves.

My final act, my legacy phase of life is not merely a continuation of my journey but an invitation to all who wish to delve into the depths of their own stories, to find strength in their challenges, to feel the essence of freedom in their lives and to embrace the beauty of becoming who they are meant to be.

As I handed over the proof copy of "A New Englander's Memoir: A Life Well Lived" to Dick Eldridge and his daughter Robin, I couldn't help but be moved. The experience was heartwarming, enlightening, and inspiring. It reminded me of the power of storytelling and the bonds it reinforces.

The journey began when my friend Robin, aware of my recent project with my father, asked for my help in bringing her father's memoir to print. The task was not just about editing and formatting; it was about weaving a tapestry of memories, stories, photos, and life lessons that spanned decades. As I delved into Dick's life story, I was struck by the richness of his experiences and the simplicity with which he approached life. His tales were not just narratives; they were windows into a life lived with passion, purpose, kindness, and compassion.

The deadline to present Dick with a proof copy was set for February 16th. That was the day Robin would come to Silver Lake to spend some time with her dad and their extended family. The date was aggressive, yet amidst the whirlwind of activity, there was a profound sense of purpose. The goal was not just to meet a deadline but to encapsulate a life's journey in the pages of a book. The process was meticulous, involving careful editing, thoughtful layout decisions, and a deep respect for the narrative we were entrusted to shape.

As planned, on February 16th, Robin, her husband Scott, and her dad pulled into my driveway and knocked on my front door. I invited them into my living room. I had seen the proof and loved it; however, what was most important was Robin and Dick’s response. I handed Robin the envelope containing the proofs. She took it out and held it in her hands. Her face was priceless as she handed copies to her dad and her husband. I watched Dick as he looked at the cover and marveled at how it had all come together. As he flipped through, I saw in Dick's eyes a reflection of his life's journey. There was a sparkle of nostalgia, a hint of pride, and a deep sense of satisfaction. As he flipped through the pages, his reactions were a mix of surprise, joy, and contemplation. The pages seemed to trigger a flood of memories, and his comments were not just about the content but about the life that had inspired it.

Robin, witnessing her father's reaction, was visibly moved. The memoir was not just a collection of stories; it was a bridge between generations, a legacy encapsulated in words.

Scott, who had experienced the work behind the scenes of writing a book, was clearly proud of his wife’s accomplishment.

The emotions in the room were palpable, a mixture of joy, gratitude, and a profound sense of accomplishment.

This experience came on the heels of my own memoir project with my father, that I delivered to my family on Christmas Day.* Seeing both my dad’s and Dick's reaction to their life story in print reminded me of the power of storytelling. Witnessing the delivery of proofs to family members reminded me of the impact of our lives on future generations They are not just books; they are vessels of legacy, carrying the essence of a life lived and lessons learned.

The process has inspired me to embark on my own memoir, drawing from over two decades of experience as a sexuality educator. As I turn 65 and lean into the legacy phase of my own life, my story needs to be written. The theme resonates deeply with me, not just as a professional but as an individual who has navigated the complexities of human sexuality and education. My memoir will not just be an account of my experiences; it will be a narrative filled with humor, insights, and the candid truths about what kids want to know about sex and growing up.

The task ahead is daunting yet exhilarating. I envision a memoir that is not just informative but engaging, a blend of personal anecdotes, professional insights, and the wisdom gleaned from years of educating young minds. It will be a journey into the heart of what it means to be a sexuality educator, the challenges faced, the questions pondered, and the impact made.

I am in the middle of selling my property. While packing, I came across a large tote box full of 3 by 5 cards held together with elastics. “Pure gold,” was all I could say as I remembered that these cards were questions that elementary, middle, and high school students had placed in my anonymous question box in each classroom. Over twenty years' worth of questions from countless puberty and sex ed classrooms! My sense is that these will not only serve as memory prompts and inspiration for my memoir but also serve as material for another valuable book for parents who struggle with having “the talk” with their kids.

As I reflect on my journey of writing blogs, stories, books, and, more recently, memoirs, I am struck by the unique power of this genre. Memoirs are more than just personal histories; they are a testament to the human experience, a celebration of individual journeys, and a gift to future generations. They remind us of our shared humanity, the diverse paths we tread, and the universal truths that bind us.
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In the end, the joy of memoirs lies not just in the creation but in the sharing. It's about holding a life's story in your hands and realizing that every page is a reflection of a journey, a struggle, a triumph, and a legacy. As I embark on this journey of writing my own memoir, I carry with me the lessons learned, the joy witnessed, and the inspiration gleaned from lives well-lived.

*You can read my Christmas story in The Book on Abundance, which launches on Amazon on Tuesday, February 20th.

Facebook Memories sometimes takes me on a journey from where I was to where I am. Today, a post I wrote seven years ago popped up and not only provided me with some valuable self care tips ... it showed me how we show up in one aspect of life can provide us with insight into how we show up in all aspects of our lives.

Seven years ago Donald Trump was in the White House. In full disclosure, I was never a supporter. I could never get past the Billy Bush bus interview and the cavalier manner in which Trump described how he approached and treated women. Having worked in the field of human sexuality and sexual assault for years, the video sickened me. Seven years later, he was found guilty of sexual assault and his victim was awarded a $5 million settlement for the crime. He displayed no remorse. Instead he denied ever having met the woman and proceeded to defame her. She sued him for defamation and was awarded $83 million in damages. He remains the likely Republican candidate for the 2024 presidential election. The campaign is ramping up. His base of supporters is solid. His opposition has become much more vocal than they were in the 2016 campaign. Media outlets have taken their stands. Social media is exploding with rhetoric and talking points and false statements and strong opinions which typically evolves into useless attacks, name calling and lots of questions.

What is going on? How can we be so divided? How did we get here? What is the purpose of this? Where will this all end up? How can I deal with what is happening right now?

Today I'm noticing how these questions are not just about our country's current political state. They apply to some aspects of my life.

Occasionally, I engage and comment on a social media post. I'm curious about where people get thier information and how they can still support a man who, in my opinion, doesn't have the leadership qualities that I see as valuable. But some do. I end up frustrated. I get all wound up. I end up feeling awful. And then I feel the need to escape the reality of the divide. Not a great cycle to engage in.

The curious thing is, I've been here before. And it had nothing to do with an election. It had to do with a personal situation in my life that kept repeating and repeating ... until I figured how to unplug. The truth is, I played a major role in keeping the cycle going. Once I unplugged, everything shifted. Hmmmm ...

This blog is not to start yet another divisive conversation that ends in frustration and name calling. It's meant to provide some tools to deal with the conflict and negativity that is happening in our country, no matter where you land and no matter what other cycles you find yourself in. Here's what I came up with seven years ago. It still applies, perhaps even more, today ...

After several weeks of disturbing social media threads full of fear and hate and judgment, along with some powerful feelings about what's been happening in the White House over the past week and several conversations with clients, colleagues and friends about how to cope with the stress many of us are feeling from the constant barrage of negativity and fear, I had to stop, unplug, get quiet and spend some time reflecting on my own feelings and find a way to find some balance and make peace with all that's going on.

Here's what I've come up with ...

I am holding out for the bright spot in all that is going on in our country. I see and feel glimmers of hope in the midst of the fear and angst. I am witnessing a surge of empowerment beyond anything I can recall in my lifetime.

People are engaging in conversations that, up until now, have been avoided, discouraged and even suppressed for fear of judgment. Those conversations are resulting in connections that were never before explored and forming support systems that have never been in place. The old adage, “Silence is golden,” is being blown apart and people are standing up and speaking out about the issues that are important to them. Profound growth and expanded awareness is happening.

People are seeking counsel, standing up and taking bold actions on behalf of their beliefs and in support of basic human rights and the premise of the constitution ... that all men are created equal.

The struggle is real. The challenge to maintain balance and peace of mind through all of this is, indeed, a challenge many of us are struggling with. For me, it’s necessary to strive for that balance so I stay emotionally healthy myself and am able to continue to support others in my work. If I succumb to fear, I am ineffective. And if I allow myself to become surrounded by the fear that others project, I shrink and become disempowered.

I've been reflecting back to my pharmacy practice days, in search for a prescription or a cure for those of us struggling to stay strong and healthy through what seems like it may be a long and difficult journey.
The truth is, there is no pill. No quick fix. Nothing outside of us. The truth is that we already have what we need. It is within each of us. We just have to activate it and consciously decide to access it. And if we can't get there ourselves, we have to reach out for help. Our future depends on how we choose to move forward.

Here is my prescription:

Eat well. Get your rest. Meditate. Turn off the noise. Get quiet.

Choose your sources wisely. Limit your screen time. Pay attention to when you allow the media in. Avoid early morning and right before you go to bed. We need our subconscious brain time to rejuvenate.

Take care of each other. Find joy in the simple things. Ask for help when you get overwhelmed.

Speak your mind when you feel inspired to do so. Avoid engaging when such engagement will only drain you. And when you do engage, be thoughtful, respectful and intentional.

Focus on those connections that inspire you. Remember that it is possible and most important to send love into the world, even if you don't agree with what’s happening.

Be kind. Give and get some hugs. Let the tears flow as necessary. And visualize a unified world surrounded by light and healing energy.

What if Trump (or whatever the situation is) is actually a gift. What if this is exactly what we need to move us forward to a better place in unity and love. Together we are better. And energetically, science has proven that united we are a powerful force and that love vibrates way higher than fear.

What if this is the beginning of a whole new era? One where complacency has no place and empowered individuals stand up for themselves and together in unity … with hope for our collective future … fully embracing the fact that love trumps hate and that love always wins.

I was brought up Christian. As a kid I remember sitting inside the church, a short walk away from our summer cottage, and wondering why we couldn’t all be outside where the sun was shining, the birds were singing, the lake was sparkling ... where God really was. I just didn’t feel connected inside.

I feel powerfully connected when I am watching a sunrise or a sunset, walking in the woods, observing nature from my window as I drink my morning coffee, standing at the top of a mountain, feeling my body move, doing meaningful work and during those random moments when I experience pure joy and love shared with others.

What is happening in the world in the name of God right now baffles me and, quite honestly, disgusts me. It has nothing to do with God. Below is the best explanation I think I've ever seen for what God is all about. It provides wonderful guidance for living our best lives and to honor this wonderful gift of life we have been given.

The God of Spinoza

When Einstein gave lectures at U.S. universities, the recurring question that students asked him most was, Do you believe in God?
And he always answered, "I believe in the God of Spinoza."
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Baruch de Spinoza was a Dutch philosopher considered one of the great rationalists of 17th century philosophy, along with Descartes.

According to Spinoza, God would say:

Stop praying. What I want you to do is go out into the world and enjoy your life. I want you to sing, have fun and enjoy everything I've made for you.

Stop going into those dark, cold temples that you built yourself and saying they are my house. My house is in the mountains, in the woods, rivers, lakes, beaches. That's where I live and there I express my love for you.

Stop blaming me for your miserable life; I never told you there was anything wrong with you or that you were a sinner, or that your sexuality was a bad thing. Sex is a gift I have given you and with which you can express your love, your ecstasy, your joy. So don't blame me for everything they made you believe.

Stop reading alleged sacred scriptures that have nothing to do with me. If you can't read me in a sunrise, in a landscape, in the look of your friends, in your son's eyes … you will find me in no book!
Stop asking me "will you tell me how to do my job?" Stop being so scared of me. I do not judge you or criticize you, nor get angry, or bothered. I am pure love.

Stop asking for forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive. If I made you, I filled you with passions, limitations, pleasures, feelings, needs, inconsistencies, free will.

How can I blame you if you respond to something I put in you? How can I punish you for being the way you are, if I'm the one who made you? Do you think I could create a place to burn all my children who behave badly for the rest of eternity? What kind of god would do that?

Respect your peers and don't do what you don't want for yourself. All I ask is that you pay attention in your life, that alertness is your guide.

My beloved, this life is not a test, not a step on the way, not a rehearsal, nor a prelude to paradise. This life is the only thing here and now and it is all you need.

I have set you absolutely free, no prizes or punishments, no sins or virtues, no one carries a marker, no one keeps a record. You are absolutely free to create in your life. Heaven or hell.

I can't tell you if there's anything after this life but I can give you a tip. Live as if there is not. As if this is your only chance to enjoy, to love, to exist.

So, if there's nothing after, then you will have enjoyed the opportunity I gave you. And if there is, rest assured that I won't ask if you behaved right or wrong, I'll ask. Did you like it? Did you have fun? What did you enjoy the most? What did you learn?

Stop believing in me. Believing is assuming, guessing, imagining. I don't want you to believe in me. I want you to believe in you.

I want you to feel me in you when you kiss your beloved, when you tuck in your little girl, when you caress your dog, when you bathe in the sea.

Stop praising me, what kind of egomaniac God do you think I am? I'm bored being praised. I'm tired of being thanked. Feeling grateful? Prove it by taking care of yourself, your health, your relationships, the world. Express your joy! That's the way to praise me.

Stop complicating things and repeating as a parakeet what you've been taught about me.

What do you need more miracles for? So many explanations? The only thing for sure is that you are here, that you are alive and that this world is full of wonders.

~Spinoza

In this deceptively simple 3-minute talk, Laura Trice muses on the power of the magic words “thank you” — to deepen a friendship, to repair a bond, to make sure another person knows what they mean to you. This simple but powerful activity creates peace in our environments and in our relationships and allows us to bring that out into the world.

​Week 5 Video
~Laura Trice, TEDx Speaker, Therapist, Coach
https://youtu.be/C4K9VnFzpvw
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Suggested Activity
Practice asking for and receiving the praise we need.

Meet with your partner and loved ones once a week and ask for the praise you need to hear.
Then allow them to ask for the thanks and praise they would like to hear from you.

To learn more about what inspired me to do a month long deep dive into gratitude, click here: https://www.amatterofmagic.com/blog/unearthing-gratitude-in-the-most-unexpected-places-my-dollar-store-twinkie-tale#/

Source: https://ideas.ted.com/your-5-day-gratitude-challenge-from-ted/

When Keka DasGupta was 17, her life was punctuated by tragedy. Her father was burned in an accident, and he passed away two weeks later. She never had a chance to tell him what he meant to her before he died. She didn’t want to experience that same regret with her mother. Listen to her share what she decided to do for her Mom and the impact it had on them both ... and the world.

​Week 4 Video
~Keka DasGupta, TEDx Speaker, Marketing and PR Strategist
https://youtu.be/m8Gbbf5sU8Y?si=bv0INvQVHak1-sVy
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Suggested Activity
Write a eulogy for a loved one, while they're still alive ... and give it to them!

To learn more about what inspired me to do a month long deep dive into gratitude, click here: https://www.amatterofmagic.com/blog/unearthing-gratitude-in-the-most-unexpected-places-my-dollar-store-twinkie-tale#/

Source: https://ideas.ted.com/your-5-day-gratitude-challenge-from-ted/

The one thing all humans have in common is that each of us wants to be happy, says Brother David Steindl-Rast, a monk and interfaith scholar. And happiness, he suggests, is born from gratitude. An inspiring lesson in finding gratitude in the present moment.

Week 3 Video
~ David Steindl-Rast, TEDx Speaker, Monk, Spiritual Teacher
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtBsl3j0YRQ

Suggested Activity

Incorporate the Stop, Look, Go process and note the opportunity for gratitude in each moment.

To learn more about what inspired me to do a month long deep dive into gratitude, click here: https://www.amatterofmagic.com/blog/unearthing-gratitude-in-the-most-unexpected-places-my-dollar-store-twinkie-tale#/

Source: https://ideas.ted.com/your-5-day-gratitude-challenge-from-ted/