This Hits Way Too Close to Home
I grew up IN Boston. So did my parents. Not in a suburb of Boston, but in the city itself. So the enormity and gravity of this tragedy hits way too close to home. I am pretty certain that when they eventually do my autopsy they will find bits and pieces of the Boston Bruins, Fanueil Hall, The Public Garden, Fenway Park, The Boston Harbor, the Esplanade, and the Charles River firmly entrenched in my DNA. We’ve pahked our cahs in Hahvahd yahd (figuratively, but not literally, because it is damn near impossible to actually park anywhere near there). I have always loved the freakin’ dirty water everyone sings about in that iconic song. My grandfather was a firefighter in Boston. We cheer for the hometown teams and I bleed black and gold for the Boston Bruins…
The Meaning Behind the Ink
Big news: I got a tattoo this month. It has been something I have wanted for at least a couple of years. So many people don't think I am a "tattoo person" -- not sure exactly what that means. If it means that up until this point in my life I never had a tattoo, then...
Contemplating a Name Change
I've been chipping away at my Self Esteem Through Art initiative for a while now. I've had the privilege of working mostly with girls and women (with a couple boys sprinkled throughout the program). I've done local after-school programs. Run summer camps. Done...
Top Tips for Helping Your Children Soar
This is definitely not a time to project your fears and insecurities onto them. Maybe you have a hard time standing up for what you believe in, but don’t rob them of their truths because you are not yet comfortable enough to live up to yours…
If A Soul Cries in the Woods, Does It Make a Sound?
The oak tree that thrives on loving and improving lives and giving so, so many gifts to others has taken one too many whacks from that axe and they come in such rapid succession that it has been difficult to give the bark and the delicate pulp time to heal in between…
Our Souls Fly at Half-Staff
My soul has been at half-staff ever since, and my heart continues to ache. As people tend to do, we mourn in different ways. Our reactions are as varied as our DNA. Life is fragile and precious, but oftentimes it takes a large-scale tragedy to remind us of that. There was ONE shooter on Friday, but there were COUNTLESS heroes. I have faith in the heroes.
One Nation? Indivisible?!
As I write this to you today (with kind of a heavy heart), it would appear that no we are not (one nation), and yes we are (divisible). I am not writing because I am unhappy with the results of the election (I’m not), or because I feel my voice didn’t matter (it did). I am writing to you because of the reactions I am seeing and hearing; because of how a group of purported intelligent, well-informed 21st century people, from the greatest country on Earth are responding….
It’s Not What You Say, It’s How You Say It
We have all had those moments. The ones where we raise our voices at our children and threaten them within an inch of their lives. The times where our kids are manipulative little midgets and we cannot take another second of it. The moments when we are absolutely certain that nothing exists between their ears except air and perhaps a little bit of lint. The times where you want Calgon to take you really freaking far away…
Preparing For Explosive Growth
In so many areas of my life, I am preparing for (and hoping for, and working towards) explosive growth! The opportunity for me to do so much good in the world has just been completely amplified…
What Is Your Negative Space Telling You?
Your “negative space” holds critical information about who you are and what you want. It is the gateway to your passions and your purpose. Paying attention to that space in between the obligations and the chaos can dramatically shift how we perceive our every day lives. It can generate happiness and positive energy if nurtured.
Surviving vs. Thriving
It will also include scheduled time to reconnect with my husband; because you would be surprised how little two busy/distracted people can communicate when they have other things on their mind. If we allow it, days can go by without us saying much else to each other besides “who is driving Brenna home, did you pay the mortgage, what’s for dinner, what time is your soccer game, etc.” I don’t care what you say, a strong marriage is not built on a foundation of “what’s for dinner.” Lack of communication causes breakdowns. Breakdowns cause resentment. I’m all about trying to keep things happy, happy, happy…
So Much to Share!
I’m working from my deck today. The sun still has that August strength, but the air is crisp and cool; a paradox. A harbinger of environmental change. Two natural elements battling it out for control. My psyche, as of late, is like this weather; two mindsets battling it out. I always have a tough time at the end of the summer. I am most at peace by the ocean, so the Ocean Side of me does not want the summer to end. The ocean is where I am happiest, where I do my best thinking, where I gain the most clarity, where I feel most at home, and where I spend most of my free time in the summer. I mourn the end of summer when it hits, and come September, without fail, I can feel myself slipping into a brief, yet powerful funk. Yet, the Practical Side of me knows that I don’t have a choice: the seasons must change and it is time to transition (albeit abruptly) back into the world of hectic schedules, homework, school sports, and shorter days. So, my body, mind, and soul are at odds with each other and I find myself squeezing every last drop out of summer’s toothpaste…