Thoughts for Today

I set a boundary recently that felt clear, measured, and necessary. It wasn’t reactive. It wasn’t harsh. It was thoughtful. And yet later that night, I lay awake replaying the conversation in my head—not because I doubted the boundary itself, but because I worried about how it would be received. Would I seem distant? Withdrawn? Unkind? What if clarity in me felt like rejection to someone else? The conversation had ended, but the argument hadn’t. It had simply moved inward. Se

I often talk about self-care as soft, soothing, the kind of thing that feeds your soul. But this week, self-care for me looked like sitting on hold with Tricare while we followed up on the referrals from my yearly physical. Asking lots of questions about providers and advocating for myself. This was neither inspiring nor relaxing. But it was necessary.  This was me keeping a promise to myself. To be transparent, I practice self-care in many different ways. I do buy the flower

If you got flowers yesterday, I love that for you. Truly. And if you didn’t, I have a different idea. Buy your own. There’s something quietly empowering about walking into a store, picking out a bouquet you love, and placing it on your own table. Not because no one else would. Not because you’re proving something. But because you can. And because you’re worth the beauty. “Buy your own damn flowers” isn’t about independence in a hardened way. It’s not about rejecting love or

Stepping away doesn’t mean escaping life. It means entering a space where nothing is being asked of you, and noticing what rises when the mental load is set down. It starts with the drive. I turn up the music, really loud and sing without reservation. I arrive early to be sure I have time to get settled in and grounded before the others arrive. We always stay by the ocean. You can smell the salt in the air and see the waves crashing on the shore. And then, there’s a deep brea

It often starts the same way. My client is describing a moment that caught them off guard, a conversation, an interaction, a decision they wish they had handled differently. As they talk, I can hear the frustration underneath the words. They replay what was said, what they wanted to say, and what they wish they had done instead. Eventually, they pause and say something like, “It all happened so fast.” And that’s often the most important part of the story. Not what was said. N

The last full week of January there’s a lot going on and you may be feeling a wide range of emotions. Many of us may be following, with heavy hearts, as protests and demonstrations unfold around the country, especially in Minneapolis, in response to recent federal enforcement actions and the tragic loss of life that has deeply shaken that community. Thousands (maybe tens of thousands on Friday) have taken to the streets, braved dangerously cold weather, and raised their voice