When the World Feels Like It’s Falling Apart: How to Move Through Uncertainty with Strength and Purpose

A World In Upheaval

I read the news this morning and wept.

The struggle is real. I want to stay informed and bear witness—but the relentless firehose of information overwhelms me. I want to hide. I want to check out. But when I take just a peek, I tumble down the rabbit hole. Fear grips me. My breath shortens. It feels like things are unraveling. Power is shifting in ways that make my stomach clench. The air is thick with uncertainty. I can’t tell if we’re on the brink of collapse or transformation—probably both.

Tears come. I feel helpless. My mind catapults into the future, constructing worst-case scenarios.

Then I remember.

At this moment, I am okay.

I remind myself that others before us have lived through times like these—times of upheaval, collapse, and uncertainty—and many have risen, shining like beacons. I remind myself that the old world was never working for all of us. What we’re witnessing may not just be destruction but the painful cracking open that precedes something new. I remind myself that we are resilient, that we were built for this, and that I was born into this moment for a reason.

Still, I grieve. I fear. And I know I’m not alone.

So, what do we do? How do we move through this without collapsing into despair?

(Phinizy Swamp Nature Park, Augusta GA. 2010)

1. Honor Your Fear and Grief: They Hold Wisdom

These emotions are not signs of weakness. They are not distractions. They are intelligent.

Fear heightens our awareness, and grief reminds us of what we love. Research confirms that so-called negative emotions—fear, anger, and grief—are essential to human survival. They help us set boundaries, take action, and adapt. The key is to sit with them long enough to hear what they tell us but not so long that they consume us.

As Rumi wrote:

“Sit with your grief. Pour it tea. Listen to it. Honor it. Let it unravel its pain so you may release yours.”

And when teatime is over, take what you’ve learned and act.

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2. Take Action: Transform Fear into Purpose

Despair calls for our attention. If we listen closely, it can reveal what we most long for. But staying in it too long can paralyze us. The way forward is action.

Decide how you want to show up in this moment. There is no one right way. But I don’t mean frenetic action. I mean intentional, meaningful action.

Some are called to protest, write, organize, build, meditate, or create sanctuaries of calm in the storm.

This moment has crystallized my purpose. I’ve spent my life walking into the dark places—my own and others'. My work is about transforming wounds into wisdom, fear into power, and pain into purpose. Now, I’m making it explicit: I want to help those ready to heal themselves and the world. I want to help people who aren’t just seeking success but who also want to make the world more just, whole, and humane.

As Lao Tzu said:

“If you want to awaken all of humanity, then awaken all of yourself. Truly, the greatest gift you have to give is that of your own self-transformation.”

3. Guard Your Energy: Protect Your Mind and Spirit

This is a marathon, not a sprint. If you burn out, you become another casualty of the system you want to change.

Be intentional. Limit your doomscrolling. Step away when needed. Be mindful of what you consume—not just food but media, conversations, and thoughts.

For me, survival means walking in the woods, meditating, writing, listening to music, and staying connected to those who ground me. It’s a balance between knowing and not knowing, between bearing witness and protecting my nervous system.

Get radically honest about what sustains you. And do more of that and less of what doesn’t serve you.

(Bard Owl outside my home in Vermont. 2009)

4. Root Yourself in Community: You Are Not Alone

Even if you tend toward solitude, like me, now is the time to name your people and bring them close.

Decades of research confirm what we already know deep in our bones: Humans are wired for connection. We survive because of each other. Friendship, community, and belonging aren’t luxuries; they’re lifelines.

Who are your people? Who sees you, gets you, and reminds you of what’s real? Reach out. Check in. Gather, even if it’s just over text. Build a web of support that holds you and that you hold in return.

We do not do this alone. We never have.

5. Seek Professional Support: You Don’t Have to Navigate This Alone

It’s okay not to know how to navigate this.

Therapists, coaches, and spiritual guides aren’t just for “fixing problems.” They are essential allies in times of transition. They help us regulate our nervous systems, reframe our fears, and find solid ground in unstable times.

I have my own guides. Without them, I’d be lost.

Who are yours?

6. Hold Space for What Wants to Emerge.

It is easy—natural—to imagine the worst. But fear is only half the story.

The other half is this:

We are standing at the edge of something unknown. And unknown does not automatically mean bad, even if it looks terrible.

History shows us that collapse is often the precursor to rebirth. In the ashes of the old, something new can rise—something more just, whole, and authentic. The systems we relied on were never built for all of us, and maybe they were never meant to last.

“When patterns are broken, new worlds emerge.” — Tuli Kupferberg

“Chaos is the raw material of creation. In times of order, transformation is resisted. But in chaos, it becomes inevitable.” — Unknown

“In the times of greatest chaos, transformation is not only possible—it is unavoidable.” — Unknown

(Dunedin FL, St. Joseph Sound. 2017)

7. Keep Going: Hope Beyond the Unknown

We must not lose hope. Not the flimsy kind of hope that clings to a particular outcome. But the deeper kind—the hope that trusts in something more significant than any single moment in history.

As Václav Havel wrote:

“Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.”

So we keep going.

Not because we know exactly how this will end but because who we become now matters.

Because there is work to do. Because there are fires to tend. Because something new is waiting to be born.

And we are here, now, for precisely this time.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

These are heavy times, and no one should navigate them alone. If this resonated with you, I’d love to hear your thoughts—how are you moving through uncertainty? Share in the comments, and pass this along to someone who needs it. If you want more reflections like this, consider subscribing. Let’s keep the conversation going. And a like always brings a little smile to me.

The Fight to Reclaim Our Attention: Why It Matters More Than Ever

I’m still somewhat addicted to my phone. Even though I’ve deleted all social media apps except Substack, I still catch myself reaching for my phone too often. It’s an almost unconscious reflex—my hand moving before realizing what I’m doing.

Other things pull at my attention, too, fragmenting my focus. I often feel a low-level anxiety humming beneath the surface, which isn’t surprising given the state of the world. Scrolling and distraction help me escape it for a moment. But the escape is fleeting.

My attention is no longer my own.

Showy Egret. Fripp Island, SC 2023

The Fight for Focus: Have You Felt It, Too?

The nagging sense that your focus is being pulled in every direction? That your time and energy are no longer entirely yours?

I’ve told myself I want to write, but days slip by without putting words on page. My attention has been bought and sold a thousand times. It’s time for me to reclaim it, gather the scattered pieces, and protect what’s mine.

The ADHD Brain: A Gift and a Challenge

I’m ADHD. I’ve done the testing. I know how my brain works. There are gifts—like my ability to hyperfocus and accomplish in hours what might take others days. And there are challenges, too: unfinished projects and a mind endlessly fascinated by too many things at once.

Social media is hazardous for a brain like mine, though I suspect it’s dangerous for most. It thrives on overstimulation, pulling me into its endless scroll and numbing me. To counteract this, I’ve learned to create moments of quiet and stillness—sitting on my porch, wandering in the woods, and listening to music. These practices help me regulate my nervous system and reconnect with myself.

Forest behind my home in western NC 2024

Learning to Relax: Easier Said Than Done

But it’s not just overstimulation that pulls me away from presence. For years, I’ve noticed how my body tends to stay on high alert, braced for something unexpected, even when there’s no real danger. It’s a pattern I’ve carried with me and one I’ve been slowly unlearning.

Do you know that feeling—when it’s hard to relax, even in the quiet moments?

Here, in the safety of my woods, I’m learning to calm myself. I’m learning to notice when I’m truly safe, to breathe deeply, and to feel at home in my own skin.

Letting Go of Numbing: The Courage to Wake Up

Bit by bit, I’ve been letting go of the distractions and addictions I once relied on to numb or escape. Choosing to live more fully awake hasn’t been easy. Some days, the clarity feels like standing at the center of everything — the beauty, the mess, the ache of the world — and it can be overwhelming. There are moments when I miss the comforting haze of distraction, the way it softened the edges for a fleeting moment.

But the rewards are undeniable. Slowly, I feel my attention coming back to me. I’m beginning to see things as they are, unfiltered and real. Moments feel richer, connections deeper, and my sense of self stronger. I’m learning to hold both the pain and the beauty, and in doing so, I’m discovering what it means to be truly alive.

The Beauty That’s Always Been Here

I’m sitting on my porch after weeks of bitter cold. The sun is warming my skin, the wind brushes gently across my face, and the trees and mountains wrap me in quiet strength. I hear the rustling of leaves, the sharp rhythm of a woodpecker, the chatter of squirrels. My dog, Lucy, crunches an autumn leaf, and the deep gong of my owl windchime—a treasured gift—echoes softly in the breeze.

All this beauty surrounds me. Beauty is always here. But when my attention is elsewhere, I don’t fully experience it.

Do you experience this? Like life is happening all around you, but you’re not fully in it?

Attention Is Power: Here’s Why It Matters

Attention is the most valuable thing we have, yet we give it away easily, which may be why the world feels fractured. What might happen if we reclaimed our attention? Who could we become? How might we show up differently?

Social media connects us and shares information, but it also steals our focus in ways that harm both ourselves and the world. Researchers have found that it’s linked to higher levels of anxiety, depression, and loneliness, driven by comparison, addictive designs, and the constant fear of missing out (FOMO). It fragments our attention, weakens our ability to focus deeply, and disrupts sleep—leaving us depleted and distracted.

It’s not just personal. Social media thrives on sensational content, fueling division and polarization. Consumed by scrolling, we lose sight of the bigger picture and the ways we might help a world that so desperately needs our attention.

The answer isn’t necessarily to give it up entirely but to approach it intentionally. By reclaiming our focus, we not only protect our well-being—we also free ourselves to engage more fully with what truly matters.

Dr. James R. Doty, a neurosurgeon and neuroscientist, puts it perfectly:

“When we lose the power to direct our attention, we can sink into despair and feel we do not have influence over the quality of our lives. If we cannot direct our attention as we choose, it is as if we are giving away the capital we possess to change our circumstances. We are giving away our self-agency.”

Doty doesn’t suggest that we can control everything in life, but he’s right that we can influence it. Attention is agency. And when we reclaim it, we reclaim ourselves.

Reclaiming Attention: A Radical Act of Presence

Reclaiming attention isn’t just about being present. It’s about rediscovering who we are when we’re not pulled in a thousand directions. It’s about creating space for connection, inspiration, and clarity. It’s about living fully in our lives instead of skimming the surface.

The world is heavy right now. The collective stress is palpable, and there is so much we can’t control. But our attention? That’s still ours—if we choose to take it back.

Reclaiming it may feel insignificant at first, but it holds remarkable power. It can change the way we experience life. It can change the way we live. It could change our world.

The sun still warms me, the wind brushes my face, and the mountains stand steadfast around me. I am here. Fully here.

Mountain view from my home in western NC 2024

Where Is Your Attention Right Now?

Where is your attention right now? What might your life look like if you took it back?

If this resonates with you, if you feel the pull to reclaim your scattered attention, I invite you to join me on this journey. Subscribe to Edges of Knowing for weekly reflections, practical tools, and stories to help you reclaim your attention, live fully awake, and transform how you experience the world.

And if this post speaks to you, give it a like or share—it helps others find this space and join the conversation… and it makes my heart smile!

The Freedom of Not Knowing | How Uncertainty Opens Possibility

Pema Chödrön once said,

“Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all. When there’s a big disappointment, we don’t know if that’s the end of the story. It may just be the beginning of a great adventure. Life is like that. We don’t know anything. We call something bad; we call it good. But really we just don’t know.”

I find this perspective both liberating and deeply challenging. It’s human nature to crave certainty. We long for answers, closure, and the reassuring belief that we can control how life unfolds. But the truth is, we can’t.

We just don’t know, do we? We think we know how things will turn out—how that relationship will evolve, whether that project will succeed, how our choices will shape the future, or what direction our world is heading. But time and time again, life reminds us: we don’t know. We can’t know.

Uncertainty in Unprecedented Times

And in these times—when the ground beneath us feels so unstable, when the stakes seem impossibly high—it’s tempting to grasp harder for answers, for control, for guarantees. Yet what if the very times that feel most disorienting also hold the greatest potential for transformation? For reshaping not just our lives but the world?

Neuroscience offers a humbling reminder: our minds are notoriously poor at predicting the future. We cling to stories about how things should go, but those stories are shaped by fear, bias, and the limits of our perspective. They rarely capture the infinite possibilities that life holds.

And yet, even in the face of this uncertainty, we resist. We label experiences as “good” or “bad,” “successes” or “failures,” based on a narrow moment in time. But what if we paused? What if we created space for the unknown to surprise us in ways we can’t imagine?

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Creating Space for the Unknown

Letting go of certainty doesn’t come easily. It feels vulnerable—like standing on the edge of a vast, uncharted expanse. But within that vulnerability lies incredible freedom. When we stop clinging to the illusion of control, we can begin to navigate life with more ease, curiosity, and flow.

Here are four ways to begin making space for not knowing:

1. Pause and Acknowledge the Unknown:

When you feel yourself grasping for answers, take a breath and remind yourself: “I don’t know how this will turn out—and that’s okay.” This simple acknowledgment can create openness where there was once tension.

2. Reframe Disappointment:

Pema Chödrön’s words remind us that what feels like a loss today could become the seed of something extraordinary tomorrow. Holding this perspective allows us to face life’s twists and turns with greater resilience.

3. Cultivate Curiosity:

Instead of labeling events as “good” or “bad,” approach them with curiosity. Ask yourself: “What might this experience teach me? What new possibilities could emerge from this?”

4. Embrace Stillness:

Sitting with uncertainty can feel counterintuitive in a world obsessed with action and answers. But stillness—through meditation, walking in nature, or simply pausing—creates space for insights to surface.

Possibility Lives in the Unknown

When we resist the unknown, we limit ourselves. We cling to familiar patterns and predictable outcomes, even when they no longer serve us. But when we release that grip, we open the door to possibility.

Think about it: how many of life’s most profound moments—those that shaped you, brought you joy, or shifted your path—came from something you didn’t see coming? A chance encounter. A surprising opportunity. A loss that led to unexpected growth.

This is especially true now. The world is shifting in ways that can feel unbearable. Yet within this chaos lies the potential for profound transformation—not because we know how things will unfold, but precisely because we don’t.

Acting Without Rigidity

This doesn’t mean we stop making plans or striving for goals. It doesn’t mean we abandon the call to act—especially when the world urgently needs us to rise. But true action doesn’t require rigid certainty or a fixed outcome.

When we take action with an open heart—without clinging to how things must go or should end—we create space for something far greater than our limited vision. We allow the unexpected, the transformative, and the extraordinary to emerge.

An Invitation to Trust

So, what if we stopped trying to know? What if, instead of grasping for certainty, we leaned into trust? Trust that the unfolding of life—messy and unpredictable as it may be—carries its own wisdom and rhythm.

This doesn’t mean we stop caring or creating a better world. It means we soften our grip, holding our plans lightly while remaining open to what we can’t yet see.

The next time you feel the pull of the unknown, especially when you feel existential dread, I invite you to pause. Breathe. Remind yourself that not knowing is not the absence of direction—it’s the fertile ground where possibility grows.

What might you discover if you let go of the need to know?

Feeling Overwhelmed? How to Turn Dread Into Purpose and Show up When It Matters

I don’t know about you, but I’ve felt some existential dread lately. Between hurricane floods here in NC, the election, and wildfires in LA, I’m shaken. Some nights, its weight keeps me awake. Yet, a couple of days ago, I felt a flicker of something like hope, inspiration, or excitement. I can’t quite name it, but it was a feeling of aliveness.

Embracing Challenges: The Catalyst for Growth

You may not know this about me, but I love a good challenge. Challenges force me to dig deep—to rise above complacency, projections, judgments, and insecurities. They demand that I show up. And while the enormity of the world’s challenges can feel overwhelming, that flicker reminded me of something crucial: When I can get out of my own way, I connect to my intelligence, courage, and capability. I feel a sense of purpose and meaning. I remember that I am here now for a reason. I am needed. My presence matters. And that changes everything.

"Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it." – The Talmud

(2022 St. Joseph’s Sound Fl)

That flicker was tiny, but it was enough. Enough to remind me that I can nurture it into a flame that could grow into a steady fire. A fire that warms and sustains me, one I tend with care. A fire I can share, helping others ignite their own—responsibly and safely—so they, too, can light the way for others.

Who Will You Be in This Moment?

Right now, it feels like the world is crashing down around us. So, I ask myself: Who do I want to be at such a time as this? Do I want to sit at home, paralyzed by fear and anger, doom-scrolling on social media? Do I want to do nothing and watch it all burn? Or do I want to take action—action that aligns with who I am, action that gives me a deeper sense of meaning and purpose?

Action as an Antidote: The Science of Resilience

Here’s what I know: In the face of trauma, taking action—even small action—can transform us. Trauma research shows that those who act during crises are less likely to develop PTSD. Taking action gives us a sense of agency and competence that protects us from feeling powerless. It helps regulate our nervous systems and keeps us grounded.

"Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something is worth doing no matter how it turns out." – Václav Havel

Nature’s Wisdom: Lessons from the Antelope

Look at the antelope on the savannah. Every day, they live with the reality of mortal danger, yet they graze peacefully, relaxed and aware. When the chase is on, they trust their bodies to respond—and when the threat passes, they shake off the fear and return to grazing. This is balance. This is resilience. And this is how we’re wired, too.

(They aren’t antelope, but it’s the best I can do in western NC!)

Insights from Combat Veterans

Combat veterans also offer a powerful example. Studies show that soldiers who actively engage—making decisions or helping others—are less likely to develop PTSD than those who don’t take action. It’s not always possible to act, but when it is, action helps us hold on to our humanity amid chaos.

Answering the Call: Overcoming Fear and Apathy

So, who do I want to be? My default tendency, rooted in family trauma, is to hide. To retreat. And, honestly, I’m good at it—it’s comfortable. But my calling—the deep, inner pull that won’t let me go—asks something else of me. It asks me to step up for a world that desperately needs it. My despair, anger, and judgment only grow when I hide out and ignore that call.

Rising to the Challenge: A Personal Resolve

I see so many people suffering deeply right now. It’s understandable. Things aren’t looking so good. There are nights I lie awake worrying about the future—for myself, the children, the animals, this breathtakingly beautiful Earth. My heart breaks, and it should. But then I must get up and get to work—work that aligns with who I am and what I have to give, not what someone else tells me it should be.

From Fear to Empowerment

We can’t make a difference behind screens, trapped in judgment and fear. If we want to save ourselves and this planet, we must act. And yes, it’s scary. But it’s also exhilarating. That flicker of excitement, inspiration, and empowerment is real. It’s the spark that reminds me that I can make a difference.

You Hold the Power to Act

We all can. YOU can. Even in the face of fear and dread, we can act. And when we do, something extraordinary happens. The fear doesn’t vanish—it doesn’t need to. Fear holds intelligence; it deserves space. But as we make room for fear without letting it consume us, something else emerges: confidence, clarity, purpose, fulfillment, hope, and even joy.

Let’s Light the Way

So, let’s tend to our flickers. Let’s nurture them into flames. Let’s fan those flames into safe, responsible fires—fires that sustain us, guide us, and inspire others rather than the fires that are destroying. The world needs your light—what you uniquely offer—now more than ever.

(Outer Banks NC 2022)

Join Me on This Journey

If this message resonates with you, I invite you to join me. Let’s build a community of people ready to show up—to step into courage, purpose, and meaningful action. Subscribe to my Substack for more reflections like this, and share this post with someone who might need a flicker of hope today. A “like” always gives me a good feeling and is appreciated, but only if it’s from your heart. 🤗

Your light matters. Let’s illuminate the world together.

When Life Breaks Open | Finding Light and Meaning in Life’s Broken Places

It’s been an up and down few months. Actually, it’s been a lifetime of ups and downs. That’s the way of it. Why are we ever surprised by this? We hold onto an illusion of control, and when that illusion cracks, we desperately try to seal it, hoping the cracks won’t spread.

(From my front porch)

When We Can’t Ignore the Cracks

And then something cataclysmic happens—hurricane floods wipe out whole communities in western North Carolina, where I live. Out west, fires rage, topping even our floods. These events are happening regularly around the world. Lives are lost, homes destroyed, and economies leveled. The earth is changing. The cracks in our illusions widen. Anyone paying attention can see this.

I want to look away. I want to ease through these remaining years of my life. But I can’t. I will look. But I will look like I look at you—holding your gaze, looking away, re-engaging. I can’t look without blinking, nor should I. But refusing to look altogether means refusing to connect. And to heal, we must connect.

Even when looking brings despair, we must look. If we allow despair to do its work in us, it can lead to surrender, opening us to new ideas and paradigms. New ideas and paradigms can lead to systemic changes. I’ve seen this happen, but it’s difficult, painful, and messy work.

We need systemic change. Nothing less will do.

What Can We Do When the Cracks Widen?

There is no one right way. We each come with unique gifts, abilities, callings, and passions. We need all of you. We need all of YOU—without the baggage of internalized patterns, systems, judgments, and rigid beliefs. The problems in the world are, in part, reflections of what we’ve internalized and then projected outward. Systems are then made that reinforce what we’ve internalized. It’s a vicious cycle! If we don’t allow those internal patterns to fall away (that which is not us)—or chip them away— we won’t create lasting change in the systems around us. If the systems around us don’t change, we will likely destroy ourselves, even as we are destroying the Earth.

Still, most people will do anything but look deeply into themselves. I get it. If you’re in survival mode, it feels counterintuitive to look inward. You don’t want to sit inside and navel-gaze if the world is burning. And yet, the world is burning because we’ve become disconnected—from ourselves, each other, the earth, and mystery. Connection is the beginning of healing and bringing the flames back into the hearth.

(Another mood)

Connection Starts with Facing Ourselves

Listen, I’m as individualistic as anyone I know. It’s a struggle for me to connect—ask my family and friends. I could write paragraphs about why that is, but I’ll spare you. I’m learning that true connection with others is impossible if I can’t first connect deeply with myself without judgment. True connection often starts with someone sitting across from us, holding space without judgment or expectation so that we dare to sit with ourselves. This is how I sit with my clients. Connecting with ourselves—our memories, trauma, grief, fears, and beliefs—is slow, painful, frightening, and messy work. It’s also relieving, surprising, healing, exciting, and hopeful.

Do You Have the Courage to Face the Cracks and Let Them Crumble?

We all know things are not well with the world. Do you have the courage to look inside and see what is not well within you? To sit with yourself without judgment, to love yourself as you are, and to release the beliefs that divide you from you, others, the earth, and mystery? Then, can you take that love and extend it outward to a world in desperate need?

We can’t take on the whole world, but we can care for what’s right around us. This person here, that piece of land there, the local cause around the corner. To heal the world, we must allow for the cracks in our illusions—let them widen until what separates us falls away. Painful? Yes. Frightening? Absolutely. Worth it? You bet.

Letting the Light In

The courage to allow the cracks within ourselves and the world can lead us toward something more profound, meaningful, and whole. Amidst the pain and imperfections, we begin to glimpse the good, the true, and the beautiful. Through these cracks, we find light, hope, and the possibility of transformation—reminders that even in brokenness, beauty can emerge.

“Ring the bells that still can ring,
Forget your perfect offering,
There is a crack in everything,
That’s how the light gets in.”
~Leonard Cohen

(The beloved forest behind my home)

Let’s Connect

I’d love to hear your thoughts. How are you facing life’s cracks and finding connection? Feel free to comment. I always appreciate hearing from you. And a “like” would feel so good and help me connect to more folks. I appreciate you!

Life Isn't Linear: How to Begin Again and Thrive

Happy New Year!

May you greet 2025 with as much enthusiasm, vitality, and joy as my little Lucy!

It’s been quite a while since I’ve blogged, and I’m thinking of beginning again.

“Beginning again” is such a powerful concept. It’s a reminder that life isn’t linear; it’s cyclical and full of opportunities to start fresh. Whether after a setback, a period of reflection, or simply the desire for change, we all have the chance to renew ourselves.

I can’t pinpoint when I stopped blogging—maybe two years ago?—but since then, I’ve been on a deep dive into old childhood trauma. While I’ve worked with therapists and coaches since I was 25, this is the first time I’ve partnered with a trauma-informed practitioner. That nuance has made all the difference. It’s been hard work— painful at times—but the healing is deeper than I imagined possible.

This process has also transformed my work with clients. As I heal, I study, train, and translate what I’m learning into my coaching. The results my clients are experiencing feel more powerful than ever.

As things begin to settle again for me, I feel creative energy bubbling up. Right before the New Year, I decided to leave social media because it zapped my creativity and didn’t feel healthy. Still, I miss the glimpses into others’ lives and sharing glimpses of my own. So, here I am, testing the waters with this “beginning again” post to see if this is where my creative energy wants to go.

Life’s Constant Curveballs

Several of my entrepreneurial clients are also beginning again. Life throws curveballs, and adjustments are inevitable. Flexibility, resilience, and the ability to self-regulate and co-regulate are critical skills to develop.

(Watch this deer on my trail cam trust his system to take care of him when he gets startled! Within minutes, he will be fully regulated again.)

But pivoting isn’t easy. Our brains crave predictability, black-and-white certainty, and comfort zones. Yet change is inevitable. We can resist it, or we can learn to embrace it. Not for the faint of heart, I know.

Partnering with change requires expanding our window of tolerance—the range where we feel balanced and safe—and learning how to return to it when we’re knocked out. This takes practice: self-regulation, tapping into our innate resilience, and trusting that our systems constantly seek equilibrium and know how to get there.

Tools for Returning to Balance

I’ve been experimenting with ways to return to a regulated state (ventral vagal, for those familiar with Polyvagal theory). Here are some things that help me:

• Working somatically with a trauma-informed practitioner

• Setting healthy boundaries

• Walking in the forest every day

• Listening to music

• Getting enough sleep

• Staying off social media and television

• Cutting out sugar and alcohol

• Drawing, writing, and creating

• Gathering with good friends (co-regulation)

(I’ve been drawing. It helps me come back into regulation, and it’s fun!)

What about you? Do you know what helps you return to a regulated state?

If not, start paying attention. Notice when you feel most connected, calm, and safe. What led you there? Was it a walk, a conversation, music, movement? Make a list of these moments so that when life feels overwhelming, you’ll have a roadmap back to your center.

Begin Again

The New Year is a natural time to begin again—but the truth is, you can start fresh anytime. Life is messy, cyclical, and beautifully imperfect. Growth isn’t linear. Success isn’t linear. It helps to know that.

So, who do you want to be in 2025? Start with a beginner’s mind. Learn to self-regulate and co-regulate. Tap into your resilience and flexibility. You’ve got this.

I’d love to hear from you:

• What helps you self-regulate? Share your tips—they might inspire someone else.

• Should I start blogging again? Let me know your thoughts.

Thanks for reading. Lucy and I wish you all the best in 2025!

(My sweet Lucy!)

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Open Your Hands

This morning, I read Rumi’s poem called A community of the Spirit.

This line really struck me:

Open your hands,
if you want to be held.

Next, I was struck by this line:

Quit acting like a wolf, and feel
the shepherd's love filling you.

And then, this line:

Why do you stay in prison
when the door is so wide open?

We know that one trauma response can be a fierce independence or individualism. This has certainly been true for me. Even when love has been offered to me, I have often been unable to receive it because I didn’t open my hands and I acted like a wolf.

I have certainly had moments of despair about this but I can also have deep compassion for myself. It can be terrifying to give up a trauma response that has saved us in the past. But this particular response no longer serves us and it would be worth our while to learn to open our hands and stop acting like a wolf.

Maybe then, we will find that the door is, indeed, wide open ready for us to walk right through to freedom.

Just Like Me

Twice this week, I’ve run into people
whom I had written off.
I dismissed them because they have
beliefs opposed to my own.

It’s interesting, isn’t it,
how we disregard others in this way?
I’ve certainly been denigrated for
the same offense: Believing differently.

But these people are kind and caring
though perhaps innocently ignorant.
Would it be fairer to say that
I’m innocently ignorant?

Would that be so far from the truth?
Not knowing what I don’t know?
Not seeing what I can’t see?
Limited as I am?

What happened to respectful dialogue and kind disagreement
where we seek to understand?
What loving connections do we
miss in our wholesale dismissals?

I was touched by one man
I ran into this week.
He expressed genuine care for me
which didn’t fit my vilified narrative of him.

I became reflective as I considered his kindness.
While I know part of the story I have of him is true,
it is quite limited in terms of
Who He is Wholly.

We, humans, are messy and nuanced.
Good and bad. Faithful and faithless.
Arrogant and terrified. Just like me,
this man is hypocritical, ignorant, and also Kind.

Just like me, he holds staunchly
to his limited and limiting worldview.
Just like me, he takes a stand for
an obsolete and rigid paradigm.

Just like me, he is at times
enslaved by his beliefs because
Often… it can feel safer
to be enslaved than to be free.

Freedom is vast and unlimited,
leaving us with a feeling of
teetering on the edge of a precipice.
We’ve forgotten that
We Are Meant to Fly.

Perhaps flying in this instance would mean
accepting this man in all his humanness.
Messy and Divine.
In doing so, might I finally, fully learn to accept myself?

Just Like Me

Is Help Really Helpful?

I’m listening to a Tim Ferriss podcast episode with Anne Lamott. The episode is Entitled Taming Your Inner Critic, Finding Grace, and Prayer.

She’s sharing about the time that her son hit rock bottom with addiction. She wanted to help and tried to help. Then she realized:

“I have a disease of good ideas usually for other people. And I believe that my ideas would help them have better lives and at least make me less uncomfortable when I’m around them. And I learned that my help wasn’t helpful and that help is the sunny side of control.”

I love that. Far too often, we believe that we know what’s best for someone else. And we offer our help from that place. This can be terribly disempowering to people. I find it so much more helpful to believe that people have their own answers and that my job is to shine a light on their own answers (IF they want me to) and not give them my answers. My answers won’t work for them. In fact, when I start working with a new client, I always tell them that their wisdom trumps my good ideas.

Of course, when I get terribly uncomfortable or afraid, I forget this. I want to insist on giving MY help and MY answers. I suppose that’s easier than being with my own discomfort and fear.

“Help is the sunny side of control.”

What people really need, and I believe want, is our presence. I know that’s what I want when I’m hurting. Please don’t try to fix me. Be present with me. And I will do my best to not fix you and instead be present with you.

That’s empowering.

Divisiveness, Anger, Grief | What's on the Other Side?

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Divisiveness. It’s crippling. It’s depressing. It’s scary. There is so much divisiveness in the USA right now, as well as many other countries. Where does this divisiveness come from?

It’s tempting to believe that all the divisiveness comes from the external world, but when I pay close attention, I can see that it comes from within me. I can feel how I disown parts of myself that I consider undesirable. The more judgmental of myself I am, the more judgmental of others I become. I see the correlation clearly at times, and at other times, it’s more difficult to see.

Carl Jung, the Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst who founded analytical psychology, describes this disconnect with ourselves as the shadow. He describes the shadow as “the unknown dark side of the personality.” According to Jung, the shadow, “in being instinctive and irrational, is prone to psychological projection, in which a perceived personal inferiority is recognized as a perceived moral deficiency in someone else.”

In other words, what we judge in others can be found within ourselves. Now, I don’t know about you, but that feels a tad confrontative to me. And, yet, in recognizing that I am projecting my divisiveness outwards, I have the opportunity to examine what I reject within me. It’s an opportunity for healing and for inviting all parts of myself to reunite. Only in reuniting, can I be whole. The same is true for this country.

If we truly do want to come together and reunite again, we must heal the divide within ourselves first. Of course, this does not mean that we let just anything go. Of course not. But it does mean that we recognize our own humanness and our own tendency to reject parts of ourselves. We could lovingly invite those parts back into the whole again where they can heal.

I believe that as we heal the divisiveness within ourselves, we’ll be much more capable of helping to heal the divisiveness in our communities, nation, and world.

For more, please listen to this week’s podcast episode.

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RIFFING ON REALNESS

If you want support to deal with divisiveness, anger, and grief, especially with all that’s going on politically, listen to Episode 13 of our Riffing on Realness podcast. I give a vulnerable look at my own internal divisiveness and how that’s affecting me with all the external divisiveness. I believe you will enjoy it and find some real gems that can help you to come back to balance even in the midst of political unrest.

You can find the podcast here on my site or on the major podcast platforms. Here’s a link to our podcast on Apple.

Staying Out of Drama

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It’s a crazy time here in the USA. Drama is swirling all around us. I certainly do feel it. I not only feel the collective drama, I also feel the drama within me. I seem to be bouncing from revved up, angry, irritable, and even a tad frightened to calm, grounded, and hopeful. I admit I’ve been more revved up this week than calm. I feel the storm moving through me and I’m reminded of the great Dr. Maya Angelou’s wise words,

“Every storm runs out of rain.”

Every single storm runs out of rain. Every single one. Right now, I am watching news of a tropical storm that is swirling around in the gulf threatening to strengthen to hurricane force. The spaghetti models are all over the place and are changing daily.

The same is true for the political spaghetti models. Things seem to be all over the place and people all over our nation, and perhaps the world, are in terrible pain.

What can we do? It’s easy to get caught up in trying to predict the future. The problem is that the human brain, according to brain science, is terrible at predicting the future. We’re simply no good at it.

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Over 20 years ago, I went through bankruptcy. I was terrified. I thought my life was over. I felt terrible shame and fear. I imagined all manner of terrible outcomes. The truth ended up being quite different. The bankruptcy propelled me into many new and life-changing adventures. The bankruptcy storm ran out of rain. I learned many valuable lessons and there was no long term harm done.

So, here we are. The political spaghetti models are all over the place. We can get caught up in the fear of an imagined future or we can ground ourselves in the present moment and do what we can in our little spheres of influence. We can collapse or we can root deeply and grow tall.

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There are 300-year-old live oaks in my yard. They have weathered countless hurricanes over the centuries yet they stand strong. Sure, they’ve lost limbs and branches over the centuries but they stand strong, deeply rooted with flexible trunks that bend with the raging winds.

We, too, can root deeply, grow tall, and bend with flexibility, compassion, wisdom, and resilience. We get to choose hate or strong compassion and kindness. I don’t mean a compassion that allows anything. I don’t mean a compassion that doesn’t hold accountable. I mean a compassion that is rooted in the good, the true, and the beautiful. A compassion that sees the humanity in everyone regardless of political affiliation, color, creed, etc. A compassion that owns our own complicity and messiness. A compassion that accepts and seeks to bring to the light our own shadows. A compassion that loves wholly and calls to accountability. A compassion that strengthens and energizes us.

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As Brene Brown says,

“Don’t shrink. Don’t puff up. Stand your ground.”

These words I’m sharing with you today are words I desperately need to hear and heed. I invite us all, in Brene Brown’s words, to have a…

“Strong back. Soft front. Wild heart.”

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RIFFING ON REALNESS

If you want more support to Stay Out of Drama, listen to Episode 12 of our Riffing on Realness podcast. I believe you will enjoy it and find some real gems that can help you to come back to balance even in the midst of political unrest.

You can find the podcast here on my site or on the major podcast platforms. Here’s a link to our podcast on Apple.