I have a client who’s transitioning from a corporate job into new, self-created work.  In preparation for what’s next, she’s hired me to prepare her for the new work she expects to create.   Recently, she discovered that what she thought she would do-which involved corporate consulting–isn’t feeling right.  She visited with former

We often repeat to ourselves stories at which we should take a second look. One of my clients came to me concerned about her relationship with money.  She was torn between two opposing viewpoints.  One was a general feeling that everything would work out and that she shouldn’t worry.  In fact, she worried

In the high controversy testimony of Brett Kavanaugh and Dr. Ford, there is an irresistible pull to line up on one side or the other.  Who do I believe?  Who do I trust? What are the values being honored-or dishonored? Even though I have strong opinions, it feels difficult to identify and acknowledge

At a meeting recently I shared some spiritual teachings from a conference I had attended.  We watched a video online of the spiritual teacher working with the audience’s questions.   Frankly, neither the work nor the teacher resonated with most of my group.  A few people nodded off, and at the end there

Recently a friend shared a Facebook video about a Scottish woman, born in 1908 who went to Canada and fell in love with a Canadian.  When the woman returned home to Scotland to visit family, she wasn’t allowed to return to Canada and marry the man because he wasn’t Catholic.  She returned all

I’ve been visiting my dad and stepmother.  My English-speaking dad is hard of hearing and although my stepmother speaks English, she’s originally from El Salvador and her native tongue is Spanish.  To top it off, although my dad has a hearing aid, he doesn’t like wearing it.   In this household, many things

A few times a year, I share a poem. Here’s to celebrating the last of summer… September Midnight By Sara Teasdale Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer, Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing, Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects, Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper’s horn, and far-off,