Author: Kathy Milano

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Soul Sanctuary Celebrates 12 Years.

I’m sitting in a silent Soul Sanctuary. Quietly communing with the wonder of this space.

It’s a bit mind blowing to review the journey that got me here. My original plan was to continue as psychologist and executive director of a nonprofit agency serving DYFS adolescents until I retired. Funny how Life has a way of inviting you onto a new path. Even funnier that you say yes. Innocently stepping onto an entirely new trajectory that at first masquerades as something similar to the path you’ve been living.

Not all Journeys have clearly marked paths and signs. I think that’s by design.

I’m not sure I had the vision or the courage back then to head in the direction I’ve been led. Although with hindsight, I must’ve had a huge trust and a fair amount of courage to walk away from the security of a job that allowed me to grow personally, empower others, and create change in the wider community. Thank the Angels who whispered there was another way even though I didn’t know who was talking nor where that “way” would lead me.

That was in 2005 and there were many twists and unexpected turns that landed me here today celebrating Soul Sanctuary’s 12th birthday.

I’m awash in gratitude. Allowing the images of the people who have walked through these doors. Seeking solace, expansion, community, and above all, love. I’m moved deeply by the way everyone has seeded Soul Sanctuary with trust, courage, desire, and movement toward a broader life. And how tears, laughter, and determination have watered these seeds. I’m thinking of all the people who have helped me in so many ways, and those who share the gift of the work we do at Soul Sanctuary with others. It is so very helpful and really generous. I’m awash in this generous spirit in this very moment.

Entering an energetically enriched conscious space such as Soul Sanctuary naturally invites and empowers healing and transformation.

I’ve witnessed a lot of transformation in myself, my offerings, and the way in which transformation occurs within people. It has become easier, more gracefully fluid, and quite astonishing to witness how that which creates suffering may fall away to reveal that which is ready to blossom.

It’s a quiet year without fanfare, this 12th wonder of a birthday for Soul Sanctuary. Yet there are gifts to be given and worthy children to receive them.

Please celebrate with me by providing support for our Love Orphanage family in Haiti

The annual Village Walk is taking place this Saturday, October 7th, in many areas.

I won’t be walking in Moorestown at Strawbridge Lake this year, so Esther Clark is leading the way. If you’re local, join Esther from the Church St entrance. Walk begins at 10 am and is a lovely, easy stroll with friends. Arrive a few minutes early.

I’ll be celebrating young love at a wedding so I’ll dance for Love O kids this year.

They are worth our attention, love, and of course, our monetary contribution. You can register to walk or run at a few locations. Or you can sit on your couch, work in your garden, or play with your grandkids. However you want to spend the day is great. Go ahead and register to walk or make a donation.

It’s a big deal this year ’cause Haiti’s poverty, gang activity, and civil unrest has run up prices and required the Love O family to relocate temporarily for safety reasons.

You can get all of the details at the Love Oprhanage site. Anything you donate will be used for living expenses such as rent, food, and medical treatment. Go here to register or donate.

My heart is full of gratitude for Gabriel who committed his life to care for orphans in Haiti.

He always speaks with astonishment that people around the world would help him raise these children. That many Difference Makers would fund education and travel during the summers to Haiti and create a Culture Camp with the kids. He just can’t believe so many care about children in a forgotten place.

Yet what astonishes all of us is that a man can commit his life to make the impossible possible.

I’ve seen first hand over 3 summers, and years of photos, how love can truly inspire people to make a life saving difference for virtual strangers. I thank you. All of you who have never met Gabriel and the Love O kids but have supported the Be a Difference Maker program because my kid asked you to put them through school. And now, I ask you to help them live.

This dream of a healthy, safe Love O is astounding and totally achievable. And worth celebrating.

It’s an ordinary day turned magical with my focus on 12 years of beauty, love, and transformation. And a heartfelt prayer that children in Haiti and everywhere be supported on their own path of growth.

I wouldn’t feel so completely awash in gratitude without you and all the ways you show up.

May you continue to be blessed as you walk the path your Soul calls you to, with ease or challenge, knowing you are part of a community that loves, transforms, and serves with gratitude.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

A lot has happened since I first “met” the Love O Family. Gabriel and his staff of 2 cared for 19 kids in an overcrowded house. No school. Limited food. Long term effects of trauma and malnourishment. And plenty of love, faith, and hard work. Since then? 9 years of school. New home with solar panels, lights (!), running water. Medical care. New children. 4 summers of Culture Camp. Swims in the ocean. Amazing. They’ve had losses. Normal losses and heartbreaking tragedies. Dangers and moves to safety. The hardships continue in Haiti, yet Love is the prevailing force. It shows itself in healthy, happy children. Gratitude overflows for all who persist in their support of Love O. You truly are a Difference Maker. 

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Pet Love. The Great Equalizer.

It was a gorgeous, bright morning as I sat in the peaceful stillness of my kitchen.

I settled in near the window to watch the well orchestrated routine of the birds flying into the tree. Chattering as they hopped down the branches until it was their turn at the bird feeder. I never witnessed any bullying by the woodpeckers with their long, hard beaks. The doves or cardinals never bumped the tiny pine siskin or goldfinch out of the pecking order.

This merry band of birds, generously cooperative, even let that busy tailed squirrel have his turn.

The morning’s quiet was shattered by a ferocious bark as not everyone was thrilled with that squirrel entering their domain. In another well practiced routine, I opened the sliding door so Milo could police the yard and chase that furry bandit into the neighbor’s trees. As that blur of black and white flew down the steps, I turned my attention to the trees dancing in the wind.

A shrill yelp of pain followed by rapid squeals of pain had me running around the side of the house.

Where I found my dog standing on three legs with eyes wide with panic. Scooping up the shaking fur ball, I carried him in the house. With a history of straining a muscle after a speed burst, I wondered if he’d work it out with a little rest and energy work. After some soothing and a little Body Code energy work, he still stood on 3 legs.

I offered to take the first shift at the local animal hospital’s emergency room and drove off with quiet whimpers from the back seat.

I carried that wounded warrior to the front desk where I worked to keep my stress to a manageable level. I went through an interminable number of questions and a very thorough confirmation of everything in his virtual chart.

I tried to keep my tone pleasant even as the whimpers grew louder and my thirty pound creature grew heavier.

Just when I felt my arm was going to give out, I was told to take a seat. I found a corner bench where I could keep Milo on the seat next to me. Curious by nature and a big fan of the animal hospital, he was already struggling to stand and whine as he saw staff and other animals.

I spent the next two hours draped over this gentle creature to keep him still.

Given that there was plenty of action and a need to remain calm, we spent a lot of time talking. Well, to be accurate, I spent a lot of time talking quietly to my little black and white companion. His responses were more subtle by way of eye contact, ear movement to indicate he heard me, and head turning to identify the next topic of conversation.

I had a lot of time to join Milo in observing our surroundings.

At first, I took on his role of protector of our domain. Hoping no one sat too close as he’d squirm to investigate. Soon, though, I joined him in the stillness of watching who was showing up and what was happening beyond our small bubble. That perspective changed my experience.

We quietly witnessed the arrival of dogs on leases, carried in arms, and rolled in on stretchers.

The cats went by in carriers to sit in their designated waiting area. We were joined by a poodle in a diaper, a bunny in a soft carry case, a bearded dragon in a towel, and a really annoying chihuahua who made Milo and I jerk in tandem with every shrill bark.

Once the animals were catalogued and discussed, we moved onto observing their humans.

Other than the man with the dragon in the towel who was happily chatting with the blue haired mama and her two kids about their own dragon adventures, the rest of the adults sat quietly.

I watched a woman reading a book while waiting for news, only to realize she never turned a page in the whole hour. The young woman with swollen eyes and blotchy skin buried her face from time to time into that diapered poodle for a short cry.

“Milo, I think they need our help,” I whispered. Again, my small healing magi and I changed the game.

Whispering softly, we coordinated our prayers of light for the wellbeing of those creatures and their people in that room of stress and sorrow. A large black fierce breed of a dog arrived on a stretcher with a matching fierce man speaking harshly to staff. Soothing tones wrapped his sentiments as they rolled that man’s best friend off to the surgeon. For the next hour, that fierce man, undone by the danger facing his dog, stood or paced in front of that door. As if gazing down the hallway would hasten good news and peace of mind.

At times, when a dog rolled by, Milo would look at me. “I know, I don’t think he’s coming out. Let’s send him home in peace.”

It was a long few hours, sitting amidst worry and grief. All the while leaning over a small dog who patiently waited his turn, much like those beautiful birds outside our window. We celebrated when the diapered poodle reappeared even though we witnessed the woman’s quiet sobs, knowing they’d only have a wee bit more time to share their special love bond. Relieved by my husband who covered the next few hours of waiting, I recognized something of importance.

That waiting room of wretched stress, whispered prayers, and soothing staff was filled with one thing.

Humans who loved their pets. And pets who loved their humans.

Loving pets seemed to me to be the great equalizer, allowing me to see the sameness of all of us humans, regardless of how we presented. I wouldn’t have wanted to meet that man and his fierce black dog on the street, but I’m sure glad I met them in the emergency room. While I was sorry that Milo broke his little foot and relieved he had no pain, I was grateful for those hours remembering the value of every human life.

I’ve had time to let that lesson sink in deeply in this summer of slowness.

When I carry Milo up and down stairs and watch him stroll ever so gently down the street with his peg leg, I am reminded that life holds suffering. No one is immune. While the reason isn’t always obvious, everyone deserves understanding, compassion, and some soothing words in times of tension.

I’ll remember that the next time some fierce human barks at me in frustration.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

College campuses are allowing dogs on campus during exam week and as emotional support animals. Dogs, like many pets, have been found to reduce stress and anxiety. One study invited participants to engage in public speaking followed by performing difficult calculations with unfriendly observers watching them. Yuck. They were randomly assigned to bring a friend, an unfamiliar dog, or go it alone. Results found that while all participants had higher heart rates and cortisol levels, those paired with a dog had lower levels than the other groups. Having Fido around before, during, and after stressful events is a good idea!

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Let’s Hold Hands When We’re Old

I was leaving Panera one day, hotfooting it back to work with soup in hand, when I witnessed the sweetest thing.

After holding the door for his wife, a man reached over to take her hand. Very slowly, this ancient couple meandered down the sidewalk. Talking and walking as if they had all the time in the world and no one they’d rather spend it with.

Catching myself gawking, I gathered my delighted smile and sauntered to my car.

Making a note to myself to invite my husband to hold hands when we’re old got me to thinking. Perhaps we should start practicing in earnest now, strolling about with no particular place to go, as if our future wellbeing depended on it. Because it does.

Come to think of it, I wondered why I wasn’t holding hands with more people.

I reflected on when and why I stop reaching for the hands of my parents, daughter, and friends. It’s such a sweet practice that society relegates to romantic relationships, parents with young kids, or support for the elderly. While I won’t reach for my big kid’s hand these days, I could tuck my arm in hers. Enjoying the closeness and attending to our conversation more closely.

Here’s the thing about social interaction and touch. It’s essential if you want to live long and prosper.

Just ask the centenarians who live on the Italian island of Sardinia.

Not only do they report having the highest percentage of people who live to 100 or beyond, but more couples make it to the finish line together in Sardinia than elsewhere in the world.

I hear they are paying people to come live in that mountainous island. Imagine that. Paying you to get daily exercise, eat a big lunch of fresh food, followed by a nap. Family in Sardinia is the priority and they’ve nailed the work – life balance. No long work hours or using achievement as a benchmark of worth for those longevity magnets. A few days a week, they don’t even head back to work after that nap. Leaving more time to chat with their neighbors.

Researchers have studied influences on longevity, such as genetic markers, diet, health practices, social connection, and environment.

You might enjoy watching the series Chasing Life on CNN with Sanjay Gupta, MD. In the episode on Sardinia, I was heartened by those spry brothers who met at the coffee shop and the number of ancient couples still hanging out together. Those folks walked everywhere up and down hills, waving to the neighbors sitting in the windows and popping in to shop for an item or have a chat.

Seems that all this socializing is good for you.

Research has revealed that having a 1 – 3 intimate relationships is good for your health. It’s also beneficial to have in 3 – 5 mini contacts with other humans every single day. These casual encounters might include waving to the post man, talking to the neighbor, petting their dog, visiting colleagues at the water cooler, or screen time with your cousins in California. Scrolling social media or hitting the like button doesn’t count, and actually may hurt when it’s excessive, incites envy, or replaces good old face to face contact.

Cultivating intimate relationships and taking a moment to chat with the check out clerk may increase happiness, longevity, good health, and a sense of meaning.

It’s a good idea to eat well, exercise regularly, take naps when you’re pooped, and balance work and play. It might even be a good idea to learn Italian and go live a pleasurable, slow, and long life in Sardinia. If that’s too big of a leap, start walking around your town or neighborhood.

That lovely couple reminded me that human touch adds a bonus to social engagement.

Like sprinkles on your cupcake, touch may be easily added to your focus on social connection, health behavior, mindset, and life style.

You know that touch is a strong component of healthy development in humans, animals, and marine mammals. Yet, appropriate and gentle touching of one another seems to drop off as you age. Not for those lucky enough to have cuddly partners, kids and grandkids, puppies and kittens. All that hugging and holding keeps those feel good chemicals flowing and encourages social connection in a meaningful way.

If you’re living alone, and perhaps working remotely, you can consciously and creatively examine how you may cultivate more intimate friendships and casual social interactions.

It’s really important to consider what’s most comfortable for you regarding the power of appropriate touch. Not everybody enjoys the touchy feely approach. That’s cool. Your best way of connecting considers what makes sense for you. Remember to regularly give your hands or feet a good massage, cuddle with your pet, and connect with others in a way that feels safe to you and them.

If you want to hold hands when you’re old, now is a good time to start practicing your particular way of leaning in and strengthening your social connections.

I’m off to perform my own experiment with lots of hand holding, arm linking, hugging, and leaning in shoulder to shoulder with friends and family. I’ll toss in some good eye contact, deep listening, and expressed enthusiasm for being together. This approach might seem a bit much with random strangers, so I’ll just add in a few more handshakes and smiles as I seek my 3 – 5 social interactions per day.

And I fully I expect that one day, perhaps when we’re a hundred and two, that some young thing outside Panera will be gawking at me holding hands with my fella.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Your mindset about aging is really important. Researchers invited elderly folks to a lecture where they shared a few facts about aging. It wasn’t a scary tale or a fairy tale type of presentation. Just some well known facts about what happens to the body and mind when you head into your senior years. They measured the gait, stride, and speed of these lovely people as they entered and exited the lecture. You guessed it. People walked more slowly and cautiously as they exited the room. Yikes! I imagine we’re adding a decade just listening to all those commercials hawking pharmaceuticals and predicting demise from illness. It’s a wonder we make it off the couch and up the stairs each evening. I wonder what those Sardinian brothers would say about that nonsense?

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Baggage Overload

“I’m packed!”

Amazed that I had gathered everything for my upcoming journey to Peru, and fit it all in my suitcase a full day before my flight. Usually, I’m finishing up at in the wee hours of the morning, so this was cause for celebration. There was one thing left to do.

I called my husband to lift my suitcase and guesstimate the weight.

It’s an old ritual, this guessing game that often leaves a fizzle of anxiety in my belly. Every trip we mean to find that luggage scale that’s hidden in the house somewhere. An idea quickly forgotten in the enjoyment of whatever journey embarked upon. Only to be remembered the evening before, or often in my case, the morning of that next flight with the looming specter of a weight limit for my bag.

Right on cue, after hefting my luggage in the air, he exclaims, “This has gotta be close if not over 50 pounds.”

I’m not sure why I set myself up for this. I’m a great packer and can fit everything into any suitcase. It’s just that I like to have a variety of clothes so I can choose to be comfortable in any kind of weather or activity.

This time, however, I also had a list a mile long of recommended items to ensure a safe journey.

During this 12 day trip, I’d stay in 5 hotels, take multiples planes, buses, and taxis. I’d hike mountains, tour cities, chant in open courtyards, do early morning yoga, and attend (stinky) fire ceremonies. I’d also be far from medical care and needed to be prepared for weather changes, altitude sickness, biting bugs, blisters, strong sun rays, and dehydration.

No wonder I packed a lot of shit. I was intent on being prepared for anything.

That’s not to mention that I was carrying a bunch of rocks in my backpack. No, I wasn’t rucking. That’s a new fad that I have no interest in exploring. Yet, here I was heading off to climb to 12,500 feet with a backpack of rocks, raincoat, fleece, water, snacks, suntan lotion, and bug spray. I don’t mean to make light of those rocks as they are a gift to me and those I serve.

As a medicine woman in the Andean tradition, I carry my mesa with me.

A mesa, or altar, is used in healing and ceremony. Filled with medicine stones that have been transformed through my initiations and used in healing sessions, shamanic journeys, and ceremony. I climbed each mountain to enter a sacred site and engage in ceremony. Activating my mesa and my own body to higher frequencies so that I might better serve humanity and Pachamama, this great planet we inhabit. While heavy, I was grateful to have my mesa as traveling companion and wise guide.

Arriving at Philly’s airport, mostly at peace with my packing choices, I was dropped at the curb to embark upon this journey of my soul.

Truth be told, I had some trouble hefting my bag on that scale. I closed my eyes in a little prayer to the angels of the airport. “Did you plan this?” Startled I opened my eyes to a serious agent pointing to the number on the scale with a long red manicured nail.

50.0

Holy weightless wonder! I nailed it! After taking a photo to send my husband, I felt a little heaviness lift from my heart (and belly). I hadn’t realized I was carrying that bit of anxiety. A flash of a memory from my honeymoon to Italy reminded me of our two suitcases splayed open in front of a long line of annoyed travelers as I transferred shoes from that over the limit bag to the almost at the limit bag.

Oh.

Seems I have a history of carrying too much baggage, seen and unseen. All of it dancing with my stress chemicals.


“Time to let that habit go,” I thought, as I hefted that heavy backpack onto a body that was already resisting the weight.

Before I even arrived in Peru, hints of what I was to learn, release, and transform on this epic journey were arising. Alright then, game on.

Apparently I had some bigger lessons to learn about carrying too much baggage.

I received a disruptive lesson in the Miami airport. A giant awareness in Lima. And a rough start in Cusco. By the time I landed in the Sacred Valley, surrounded by the majesty of the Andean mountains, my lessons became more palatable. I still carried too much every day within my psyche, body, energy field, and backpack. I became adept at recognizing this collection of things I no longer needed to carry, curated by a lifetime of conditioning. And how many of them weren’t even mine to begin with.

I shed that weight with the help of ceremony, medicine teachings and teachers, the natural world, my archetypal companions, and lovely new friends.

I’m traveling more lightly now by intent and with Life’s help as it continues to remove much of what I felt was necessary. I learned that those medicine stones are worth their weight in gold and I’m happy to carry them anywhere. And that journeying throughout time to clear old baggage is a worthwhile endeavor.

Mostly, I discovered, that it is a privilege to live here and now. Knowing I’ve got everything I need within.

I could search for that luggage scale in advance of my next trip. But I won’t. Why mess with the majesty of the mystery and those future lessons just waiting to shake me awake?

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

If you’re carrying a lot of stress, you’re not alone. Robert Epstein, stress researcher, found that the average person’s ability to manage stress is remarkably low. Living in a world of stressed out adults takes its toll on you as it’s hard not to get triggered by someone’s stressed out behavior unless you’re cool as a cucumber. More importantly, it’s been found that a parent’s ability to manage their own stress is the second most powerful predictor of the wellbeing of their children. Yikes. Lots of ways to let that stress go and plenty of motivation. Instead of being a stress magnet, be a conduit of calm. Yup, that’s a thing. I have declared it so.

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Everything I Own Is Temporary

Everything I own is temporary
Brilliant ideas, coveted objects
Valued relationships, my very personhood
Nothing protected from an unseen hand
Wiping clean my slate
Upending familiar ground upon which I tread
Tinkering with a fragile sense of self
While I sleep
Walk
Through days chock full of importance

Despite every grand effort to trick
That which I want and need
So very much
to remain true, steadfastly loyal
Cemented into certainty
Everything flickers and grows feeble
Snuffed out like a flame
Abruptly squeezed by meaty fingers
Or barely noticed, fading like dusk
Soundlessly swallowed whole by night

In stillness I stand
On solid ground amidst shifting sands
Sheltered beneath a canopy so green
Glistening with cascading rain
Softly nourishing gardens and lawns
Quiet companion on a leash
Three smiling men riding a single lawn mower
An amusement park of movement and stillness
Revealing the script behind the play
Written in vanishing ink

Nothing matters  And everything is worth engaging in

Life in every form is meant to be lived
Not there
Far in the future dressed in a different garment
Bright, beautiful and pleasing to the i
But here
Looking as it is right now
Not well put together
Yet perfectly arranged

Shifting awareness emboldened
By a dog unburdened by a broken foot
Gracefully releasing the chase of
Every wiry squirrel 
Content to sniff the winds of change
Black and white fur dancing
With pink petals, water and breeze
Untroubled by the sun’s game of hiding
Vigilantly at rest, no need to seek
Eyes meet in silent acquiescence

Hands splayed open
Grasping not one thing
I treasure that which cleans my slate
And welcome the dusk that robs my light
I pray then and there to the witness within
Let this softening of my body
Sing a gentle lullaby to my mind’s desire
To know, to strive, to do, to become
So I may instead honor this temporary breeze
And perfection of these trees

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Creativity is inherent to human development and essential to discovery of the wonder of the world. Anyone who has every witnessed an infant discover her toes or attended a high school art show has done their research. The question for you is not whether you are creative, rather how are you expressing your creativity. By choosing different ways to express yourself and your view of the world,  you enhance new neural learning, hone observational skill, and let a wee bit of your genius flow out to the world. The more you create, the more you translate the world according to you for the rest of us to enjoy. Forget about being good at anything. Create as an experiment, for the sheer joy of it, or to enhance wellbeing. 

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SisterHood is Heading Back to School


As a kid, I had mixed feelings about heading back to school. 

I loved the freedom of summer days running around the neighborhood, sleeping under the stars, and vacationing at the beach or mountains. I didn’t need any research to convince me of the power of free time to play with friends, enjoy family, and explore the natural world. Those days of warmth, extended light, and freedom from structure restored the body, brain, and spirit.

Kids glow during the summer and not just from a touch of sun.

Too bad we mature, civilized adults didn’t build in an equivalent of an extended seasonal vacation into our work life. In the US, unless you have the financial means and permission from work to take frequent vacations or staycations, you’re grinding through 50 weeks a year at work. This definitely dampens the health and wellbeing of every body, mind, and spirit. But, I digress.

I wasn’t so keen on summer ending even if there were some perks about returning to school. 

Aside from seeing friends and enjoying school, I was always enticed by back to school shopping. I loved the trip to the stationary store with my mom and returning home to organize my notebooks, pencils, and backpack. I realize now that my delight wasn’t just about the “stuff” I carried, rather it was more about what it represented. 

A brand new notebook offered me the promise of building upon old knowledge to reveal doorways into something greater. 

I still love my school supplies and I’m still pursuing my “higher education.” If I could transport my shelves of colorful binders and notebooks along with my computer to a tropical island, I’d have enough course material to keep me busy for 6 months. As I create and consume, I welcome the pleasure of organizing all of this wisdom in colorful binders and matching notebooks. 

I’m not taking these gifts of school supplies, love of learning, and positive experiences in education lightly. 

As a school psychologist and therapist who worked decades in the nonprofit world, I’m well aware that not every child has access to the financial, family, or school support that foster growth. That’s why I’ve been running back to school supply drives for the past 30 years.

Donating school supplies may seem like a token action, allowing the giver to feel good, but making a questionable difference to the tremendous learning difficulties, poverty, or family challenges some kids face.

I know better. I’ve learned of the value of a new notebook or backpack from kids and teens who feel shame, worry, and discomfort when they don’t measure up to their peers. And, unfortunately, when they’ve been shamed by teachers for not being “prepared” with the required supplies.

School supplies matter to these kids. And they bring relief to overstressed parents.

All school supplies donated to Sisterhood serve impoverished families in Burlington City, NJ.

By now you know the drill. Drop off your school supplies at Soul Sanctuary. If it’s easier to let me do the shopping, I’m happy to do that.

Venmo me at Kathleen-Milano-2 or send via Pay Pal @kathymilanophd. Please indicate it is for Sisterhood. Be assured that every cent goes to them. 

Drop off at Soul Sanctuary or donate by August 23rd please.

You can drop off in the lobby or outside if door is locked (I’ll grab it) on Mondays, Wednesdays, or Fridays 9 – 5pm. I’ll deliver everything on the 24th so the kids and teens can pick out what they need. 

You choose whatever you want to give. Donations will fill in the rest.

It’s great to have backpacks (5 Below), 3 subject notebooks, binders, and notebooks. If you’re shopping for the young ones, please buy the smaller packs of markers (12, 24) or crayons (24, 48) for individual use.

Thanks for your ongoing support of SisterHood in Burlington City. Year after year you show up.

I know the good work that Rev Hilda Covington and her volunteers offer the neighborhood. And I know first hand the appreciation of these kids, teens, and parents.  All donations are given anonymously in order to support Sisterhood’s mission and respect the families they serve. 

So, I’ll say thanks to all of you from all of them. Now, let’s get these kids ready to learn.

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Dolphins, those #2 on the intelligent creature list, sure know the value of play! With all the stress of deadlines, to do lists, and multitasking of life, humans sometimes forget the value of playing a game with their friends. Scientists off the coast of Kauai and Maui have filmed dolphins and whales playing together. A dolphin swims onto the nose of a whale who then raises themselves slowly out of the water so the dolphin may “slide” down its back. Consciously breathing, playing with friends, and frolicking in the waters of life. Seems like we humans just got schooled.

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Breathe Like a Dolphin

Dolphins sleep with one eye open.

It’s not that they are inherently suspicious creatures. Actually, they are quite lovely in their social engagement, curiosity, and self awareness. Considered the second smartest animal in the world (humans being the first), they have the capacity to communicate through language, plan for the future, and solve complex problems.

Unlike humans, for whom breathing is an autonomic (automatic) function, dolphins must consciously decide to breathe.

If dolphins entered fully into unconscious sleep, they would fail to breathe and thus drown. Given this vital need for conscious control of their breathing, dolphins only let one half of their brain sleep at a time.

They enter unihemispheric sleep when closing the left eye as the right half of the brain sleeps.

This allows the left hemisphere to take charge of breathing and be alert for dangers in their environment. While alternating sleep between hemispheres, dolphins swim very slowly or rest motionless on the water’s surface. This way they get the rest they need without ever losing consciousness.

Dolphins are not only bringers of joy and delight, they are expert practitioners of mindful breathing.

If you want to improve your state of mind, health, and potential for wellbeing, start breathing like a dolphin.

Yogic technology, mind-body medicine, and spiritual traditions recognize the value of conscious breathing.

Aside from countless research studies, your own personal experience will reveal the benefits. Engaging a mindful, relaxing breath pattern restores balance at all levels of your being. As you breathe, you’re detoxing the stress chemicals, negative thought patterns, and escalated emotions. Calming the mind, increasing mental focus, organizing your brain-body communication, and clearing energetic channels. Priming you to move into a quiet meditation or move through your day aware and in balance.

You can act like a dolphin any time you consciously observe and control your breath, strengthening your awareness of the mind-body connection.

Whether you engage mindful breathing to decrease stress, enhance your mental focus, or lower your blood pressure, your body will thank you. These simple practices, so easy to master, have tremendous health benefits. Such as rejuvenating the nervous system, improving digestion, easing pain, supporting respiratory functions, and increase immunity.

Perhaps your newfound sense of ease, increase in energy, and surge of pleasure inducing chemicals will be enough to motivate a daily practice.

Emphasis on daily and practice. When you’re in the middle of a crisis and your hair is on fire, that’s not the best time to begin your training in dolphin breathing. A daily practice builds your “breathing muscle” so that you can get to it quickly and with ease when needed.

With enough practice, this beneficial habit of taking a deep breath may even wake you out of your anxious sleepwalking through the day.

The next time you need to interrupt the fight or flight stress response, get conscious and choose a breathing practice. Immediately. Breath techniques are also very beneficial partners for the tend and befriend stress response and the challenge response.

Did you know that there are more stress responses than just fight or flight?

And that if you perceive stress as positive rather than detrimental, it doesn’t have the same debilitating effect on health, mindset, and longevity? Head to my Free Resource page to grab The Self Soothe Strategy. More on all of that in my PlayBook and a nice relaxing HeartBreathing practice to download (and master!).

Here are a few breathing practices designed to invite a state of deep relaxation, mind-body harmony, and enhanced mental focus.

Box breathing or the 4-4-4-4 breath is easy to practice.

Count to 4 with a slow inhale, hold for a count of 4, exhale slowly for 4, and hold for 4. Repeat. Be gentle with the holding of the breath. It isn’t a rigid holding, just a chance for your body to replenish oxygen, giving your organs and tissues a much needed oxygen boost.

The 4-7-8 breathing practice is based upon an ancient yogic practice.

It’s helpful to place the tip of the tongue on the roof of the mouth behind the front teeth throughout this practice. Begin with an exhale through the open mouth, letting the air go out in a “whoosh” sound. Breathe in through the nose for a count of 4. Hold for a count of 7 (relax). Exhale slowly through the mouth, choosing for a count of 8. You may work up to this pattern, so begin with whatever count you need and extend it with practice.

Alternate nostril breathing is another yogic technique that induces relaxation, clarity, and harmony throughout the body.

There are a few varieties with this technique and you may want to explore this with a quick Google search. At first, this may feel a little awkward, but it is definitely worth the practice.

Finally, my go to favorite involves taking 9 Self Regulating HeartBreaths.

Crossing your palms and resting them on your heart, you take 3 breaths. This is a “HeartBreath.” Just noticing how your body breaths you. Switch palms and repeat. Again, switch palms and repeat. 9 HeartBreaths brings your heart rhythm into coherence and the enter body sings with the harmony that change brings.

The similarity between you and a dolphin is that you both have a choice.

You can continue to breathe even when you’re unconsciously stressing through your day. You won’t die. But, you won’t live the fullness of what life has to offer when you allow your body to hold tension, diminish health, and reduce mental capacity. When you don’t breathe mindfully and in a relaxed state, you may move further down that intelligent animal list.

Don’t let the other intelligent species (crows, pigs, and chimps) sneak up on you. Breathe like a dolphin, enhance your intelligent body-mind system, and maybe, just maybe, leap a bit with joy.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Dolphins, those #2 on the intelligent creature list, sure know the value of play! With all the stress of deadlines, to do lists, and multitasking of life, humans sometimes forget the value of playing a game with their friends. Scientists off the coast of Kauai and Maui have filmed dolphins and whales playing together. A dolphin swims onto the nose of a whale who then raises themselves slowly out of the water so the dolphin may “slide” down its back. Consciously breathing, playing with friends, and frolicking in the waters of life. Seems like we humans just got schooled.

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Label Me This?

I had a lot of conversations and emails after my last blog on gender fluidity.

Thanks for that. There were a few that especially got my wee brain to thinking. One in particular questioned whether we were all making too much of these labels. And if it would be more beneficial to focus on the person and how we feel about them. Shared with a beautiful yet poignant example of a family’s love and acceptance of a trans child.

So I headed to the thinking spot of my favorite boy bear, Winnie the Pooh. “Think, think, think.”

A few scenes from my life flashed with this contemplation. None of them about gender identification, by the way. All of them about the use of labels with some benefits and some cons.

Nearing completion of my clinical psychology PhD program, I worked a 12 month internship at a Pennsylvania state school and hospital for adolescents. I have lots of flashes of memories of that time, both exhilarating and deeply humbling. Mostly, I felt grateful to enjoy the quality training, my likable colleagues, and those often delightful, usually challenging teens.

Getting teased one day by the staff, I was asked if they’d have to call me “Doctor” when I graduated. “You betcha,” I said “even my mother has to call me freakin’ doctor!”

We shared a good laugh and got back to work. As I walked back to the intern office, I realized that I meant it. I was finishing the most challenging 6 years of my educational life and I was damn sure gonna use that hard earned title. Even now, as I recall the challenges of those years and the way I grew, I understand that sentiment. That label was really important as I strengthened my new identity.

I was ready to slap Doctor in front of my name at every opportunity.

When I graduated, the staff thoughtfully gave me a shiny gold nameplate for my desk. I read my name with its PhD caboose with a grateful smile as we all celebrated. “One more gift!” said my coworker as she handed me one more nameplate.

“Call me freakin’ doctor”

You can bet that nameplate went on my desk in the intern office. Then life went on as I left the world of academia and wobbled into environments that would test and mold me as a young “doctor.” The days of handholding were long gone.

Another memory arrived which fast forwarded me a dozen years when I was running a nonprofit agency in New Jersey. Working within a creative model, we helped teens stay out of those hospitals and residential centers so they could heal in community. Truth be told, those centers didn’t want these kids given the severity of their trauma and behavior. Training newly graduated PhD clinicians, I noticed something telling.

These young therapists threw around their “doctor” label like enthusiastic guests with confetti at a wedding.

I understood this. I remembered the insecurity I felt as I entered new jobs requiring competent application of my clinical skills which often seemed shaky at best in the face of tremendous challenge. In supervision, we explored their vulnerabilities and strengthened their skills.

I helped these new PhDs soften their use of “Doctor.” Learning there was a time and place for this label.

Exploring how to use or not use with community colleagues and examine the benefit of this label with clients, in school meetings, and at court appearances. Including how that well-earned term provided bolstering to shaky legs and a nervous stomach. 

Relationships shifted when Dr. was followed by a first name or plain old first names were used with protective service case workers who had decades of experience. Interactions with a little labeling thrown in as a descriptor or token of respect kept the focus on the people, not the label.

It was also a time of label dissection to peel off the many diagnosis and rigid opinions about these teens and their families.

Labels carried information, yet unexamined, they often disrupt the potential to experience the (real live) person in front of you. It made better sense to help staff, community agencies, the teens, and their families understand their needs, strengths, and behaviors in ways that defied the demonizing labels they all carried. Examining individual strengths, vulnerabilities, gifts, and skills yet to be developed empowered healing rather than diminishing a person as part of an “undesirable” group.

It was valuable work, this label deconstruction, so the benefit of humanizing reconstruction could take priority.

Another memory flashed of my sweet Dad who tended to use first names with everyone. His doctors, friends, executives, and little kids. I had to roll my eyes a bit when he was seated on the rug in a second grade classroom on Grandparent’s Day. Playing a social interaction game of greeting one another, a wide eyed boy tripped over remembering my Dad’s last name.

“Call me Bob,” my Dad smiled.

Only to invoke the teacher’s rapid instruction to use “Mister.” Poor kid was set up. Recognizing when labels are set in place, for better or worse, there is a time to comply and a time to challenge.

I’ve seen Mister Bob do both with great success

I guess I could say I was raised by a “label rebel.”

So many flashes of “ sweet labeling” in my years of life.

The pleasure of calling friends “Mrs” when newly married or “Dad” when entering the magic of parenthood. My newborn baby being (fondly) called “nosy” when she was a few days old. As a new “Mama,” I quickly corrected that label to “curious” since she hadn’t yet begun to speak and fend for herself. Witnessing the hurt of labels with ethnic, gender, and racial slurs that broke my heart. Or disordered parents or teachers identifying children as “bad,” “worthless,” “lazy,” and “stupid.”

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.”

So. Not. True.

I’ve witnessed the horrible outcome of verbal abuse in families, schools, neighborhoods, religious institutions, workplaces, peers groups, and self-talk. Wounding can happen when labels intend harm, respectful labels are missed, or a person’s desire for a label/no label is misunderstood.

Perhaps there isn’t one correct answer about how to use a label well or not so well. Maybe, just maybe, you could be “curious” about any label bandied about.

To understand what it means to the one using it or receiving it. Learning what is helpful and what is harmful. You don’t live in an all or nothing world, although many people are “black and white” thinkers. It’s tricky, but this duality, engrained in culture and language, can be disassembled one label at a time.

It’s a slow, but worthwhile process and it begins with one person, one label at a time.

Coming full circle yesterday, a colleague from grad school asked if I had course descriptions he needed for advanced certification. While I couldn’t help him, I realized something important. My Master’s and Doctorate diplomas, rewritten with my married name, were so very important when I ordered them. Leaving that nonprofit agency to open my private practice, I felt a bit unsteady. I figured those diplomas, and all they represented, would give me some respectability as I started over from scratch. My plan was to hang them on the wall above my desk so they’d “have my back.”

My newly lettered diplomas took 9 months to arrive. By which time, I realized I didn’t need to be called freakin’ doctor anymore.

That label was no longer necessary and those diplomas are collecting dust in my basement. All of this “think, think, thinking” revealed the importance of deeply examining those labels that remain, whether they be rigid, fluid, or fragile. Perhaps some are important, others are loosening, and a few are collecting dust in my basement.

I imagine that I’ll be considering those labels I use for you as well. Giving some the heave ho as no longer necessary. And enjoying the ones that remind me of who you are.

You Beautiful Soul, you.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News


A recent study examined the impact of mindfulness on “Linguistic intergroup bias” (LIB). University students were asked to describe cartoons depicting various scenarios, such as one adult hitting another. The response could be factual (one person hitting another) or make a character inference (they’re violent). Bias was found when cartoons were viewed as friend (factual descriptions) or enemy (inference). Inclusion of mindfulness (observe thoughts as fleeting mental contractions not part of cartoon event) reduced biased responses. Other studies suggest that mindfulness may reduce stereotypical and prejudicial thinking. Why not try it out? Thoughts are like floating clouds, watch them pass.

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She/Her/Me. Who You Be?

I’ve been exploring the fluidity of gender in recent years. 

Trying to wrap my binary trained mind around gender as a moving target with changing terminology and variety in visual appearance of my fellow humans. I identify as a female, heterosexual and use the pronouns she and her. Growing up in the 60s and coming of age in the 70s and 80s, I was comfortable in the world that identified males as males and females as females.

Perhaps I considered gender somewhat within the variations of sexual orientation of my friends and colleagues.

Yet this was still within the binary identification of my male friends with boyfriends, my female colleagues with girlfriends, or those who preferred a bit of both. This was an acceptable part of my life and continues to be without any need to “wrap my mind” about preference in sexual partners, legal or otherwise. 

Reflecting further, I realize I’ve had many a thought, conversation, exploration, and discovery about the nature of the feminine and masculine characteristics within myself and others.

Noticing how the societal or cultural influence on what is deemed feminine or masculine has infiltrated all aspects of our lives. Including how these fluid characteristics have been made rigid within a two choice system of descriptors. 

Gender fluidity is confusing for many, not only those of my generation, especially when you’ve been raised in culture with two choice descriptors embedded in language, belief, expectation, media, and appearance. Including all the restrictions or prohibitions of same sex or gender fluid representation in culture, religion, and societal institutions. I recall my first introduction to people sharing their pronouns. It surprised me and open my eyes and mind to an experience of life that I’d been blind to previously. 

Curious and a bit confused, I sought understanding. I bought some books, watched some videos, and spoke with a lot of people. 

I explored the labels embedded within the the ever expanding LGBTQ2+ descriptor. I learned to honor the pronouns used by those around me even when I was tripping over “they” or forgot to change “she” to “he.” I learned a bit, got better at my gender fluid speak, and realized there was so much I didn’t know. 

Perhaps if you’d been exposed to a language that was trinary (yes/no/maybe) instead of binary (yes/no), like some tribes near Lake Titicaca in Peru and Bolivia, all types of fluidity would be easier. Or lived within the indigenous cultures where some members of the tribe were known as “two spirit” who embodied both masculine and feminine characteristics. 

Yet for me, I’m still undoing a lifetime of conditioning within a binary descriptor system about gender.

There’s a lot going on in our world that’s really hard and really human, and it affects all of us. Not only families who face teens or parents who are shifting gender identity, appearance, sexual orientation, and/or embrace fluidity in many arenas. These changes have people bumping up against their own conditioned upbringing which holds a complex continuum of rigid to fluid beliefs about the nature of how a human should be a human.

Recently attending the theatre in New York City, I read in the Playbill about anti-drag and anti-trans legislations which would ban or severely limit drag shows in Tennessee and being considered in other states.

Lawmakers and commentators identify the real intent beyond such law is regulation of the trans and non-binary populations. 

Not only would theatre productions be severely affected, but actors would be banned, persecuted, or harmed because others (influencing legislators) feel they shouldn’t have the legal right to express their gender fluidity. Or as one actor so poignantly stated, “… because they don’t think I have the right to exist.”

My research has led me down some dark rabbit holes of humans harming humans, so familiar to the history of this country and around the world.

You may not agree with my intent to explore my personal constraints of understanding fluidity in gender, sexual, and human identity within the complexity of modern societal forces. To become more open, accepting, and supportive of people who identify, express, and love differently than I do.

I’m not trying to convince you of anything here. 

That’s your business and your responsibility as to how you define yourself and your world view, and live accordingly.

I’m just wondering how to honor people’s choice to identify themselves in a way that feels true to themselves. Whether it be gay, bi, gender fluid, queer, two spirit, intersex, questioning, or asexual. My wondering extends to accepting people’s right to define for themselves their political party, religious identification, race or class identification, professional occupation, cultural background, sport team affiliation, and any other of the myriad of descriptors used to imperfectly capture the complexity of the human being. 

You catch my drift. But to be clear, this is my exploration. I’m not suggesting any set (rigid) path for your own exploration or even that you jump on that path. 

Of course I have an opinion about that. I think it would be great if everyone held a true desire to understand and look very deeply past the labels, roles, visuals, actions, judgments and lifelong societal/cultural conditioning of all types of “identification.” I think we’d be a more conscious society if we all had the capacity for such introspection, and likely a lot more likely to be kind and not harm those we deem “wrong.”

Yet if I get on my soapbox about that, aren’t I just telling you what my “legislation” is and perhaps even pressuring you to vote for it?

So, where does that leave you, especially if you recognize that you’re part of a human family? 

I hope it leads you to ask yourself some questions. Is every member of society deserving of respect, the freedom to choose, the right to love who they want, and identify as they will? Do you fight those who oppose you with hate, judgement, and a desire to force them to live in your view of the world? Do you stay quiet and let others trample on life, health, and psyches? Do you love, accept, forgive, and seek understanding? Do you educate, volunteer, engage your inner activist, or vote with your voice, money, and presence for change? Do you turn away with a hardened heart against those who confuse, disturb, and frighten your status quo?

You’re part of a human family. Living and breathing together within the ecosystem of the planet. It’s a troubled family living within a troubled ecosystem.

Maybe you begin there. Accepting you live in troubling times with a family who is a bit of a mess. Maybe there is something you don’t yet understand but are willing to explore. (And not just in the realm of gender identification.) Exploring the way to peace within your own thoughts, words, deeds, and relationships.

And then, perhaps, that peace might just flow out a wee bit into this creative, beautiful mess of humanity. 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

I have fond memories of the exposure to theatre as a child, teen, and adult. With no desire to be on stage myself, I’ve relished in the genius creativity flowing through all stories on stage. I saw a billboard in Philadelphia announcing  a new play, Mrs. Doubtfire (Tootsie), arriving soon. That got me thinking. If anti-drag legislature passed in every state, would future generations never see this show? Or Peter Pan, Hairspray, and Victor/Victoria? How would this end the University of Pennsylvania’s tradition of the Mask and Wig  productions where all parts are played by me? Or my college favorite, that legendary parody, Rocky Horror Picture Show? Perhaps some food for thought and not such HeartWarming News.

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Great Googamooga

Arriving home at the end of my work day, I usually pull in the garage and sit in silence a bit before walking in the door. 

It’s a lovely ritual I’ve had for years to help me center and return home with peaceful enthusiasm for the night ahead. This evening, however, I heard music blasting as if teenagers were throwing a banger in my house. Curiosity overrode my ritual and I quickly popped in the door to see what was happening. I found my husband pulling dinner out of the oven while the rhythm pulsed through the neighborhood.

I mean that dude was positively rocking out. And the beat was so good that I dropped my bags and started dancing.

While he plated dinner (his evening ritual), I danced in the kitchen with the dog. No need to even say hi, it was clear that my body was busy and I wasn’t gonna spoil that party. My happiness quotient rose rapidly and laughter erupted when the cook occasionally sang back up. The song was unfamiliar but I was too busy sliding and spinning to listen to any words. When it ended, I quickly searched Spotify for the next dance tune so I could keep the party going.

Sometimes, I have a dancing dinner.

My husband sits at the kitchen counter, I dance between bites all over the kitchen, and we catch up on the day. My body thinks this is a good idea after sitting for hours in a comfy chair, and I have to agree. This night, however, the music was too loud to speak and the beat too good to disrupt. By the time the dishes were done (again, his ritual) and salt and pepper put away (my contribution), the playlist ended and I went to play ball with my dog (his ritual).

After all that dancing, Milo was a bit pooped and didn’t seem to remember how to return the ball.

Great Googamooga. He had a Ball of Confusion.

Fast forward to the following night. We drove to the forest where we like to walk and I asked for the name of that Googamooga song.

I realized Milo was trying to clue me in that the song was Ball of Confusion by the Temptations. 

I rarely listen to the Temptations but I liked the beat. So I added it to my Spotify playlist and got jammin’ in the car. So many lyrics had me looking them up and singing along. No easy task as there were a lot of words. What I soon realized that this 1970 Motown song, written by Norman Whitfield for the Temptations, was a searing commentary on the state of the union. Racial tension, unemployment, drug addiction, crooked politicians, gun control, and hippies in the hills. 

“Great Googamooga,” I thought, “has anything changed in this country?”

Back in 1970, Tricky Dick was president, we were embroiled in the Vietnam war, and “great googamooga” was a saying indicating either shock and dismay or unbridled enthusiasm. It certainly wasn’t with unbridled joy that the Temptations sang “Can’t you hear me talking to you? It’s a ball of confusion. That’s what the world is today.”

We got out of the car and walked in silence through the woods, listening to the breeze and feeling the peace.

To be more accurate, I noticed the peace, however was observing the turmoil within my mind and emotions. The words of that song resounded through my inner soundscape as pictures of today’s world swam through my vision. A riot of emotions accompanied that slide show: dismay, anger, sadness, fear, disgust. Witnessing visuals of melting ice caps, systemic racism, inner city violence, drug cartels, hungry families, broken systems, and class inequity, I let all those feelings and images roll out into the woods.

53 years later and that song was still relevant. What the hell was I to do in the face of all this?

The answer was simple, wise, and easy to achieve. First, I had to reestablish my coherence amongst my mind, body, and emotions. If I remained in a dysregulated system, my thinking would be a “ball of confusion” leading me into the wrong kind of action. While an inner calm could open me to creative solutions and wise responses to this (still) messy world.

So I walked in the woods, aware of the breeze and the trees.

I listened to the rustling squirrels and sound of my husband’s sneakers on the path. I sought out the green trees, smell of the soil, and searched the skies for soaring birds. I called the deer and foxes to come out for a visit. They didn’t arrive, but peace settled around me like a cloud from heaven.

As did gratitude for my ability to walk peacefully in the woods and dance freely in my kitchen.

I realized two things as we strolled back to the car. First, there was wisdom in dancing in enjoyment of the beat while the first hearing of that social commentary floated through my (un)awareness and my energy field. Dancing activates the Radiant Circuits which are energy pathways that can support releasing energy and fueling the body with yummy life force energy.

Second, I could be active in my work to improve our world with one of two attitudes.

Shock and dismay or unbridled enthusiasm centered in loving optimism. So, “googamooga” for me is an internal invitation to dance with awareness through my days. So I may spread the rhythm of hope, love, and action which inspires and improves lives. Rather than sink into despair, spew my anger, or fight the fight.

“Make love, not war,” says my inner teenage hippie.

I think I’m gonna listen to her, especially ’cause she had some good dance moves and a pair of really cool purple bell bottoms. 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Ceremony and ritual have always been part of indigenous culture, religious traditions, and societal rites of passage. Given their prevalence across the ages, researchers have explored the benefit of participating in ceremony. There is a general consensus that participation positively influences physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual health of the individual. Participating in a group ceremony increases a sense of belonging to community as well as something greater. You may be your own researcher and explore the personal impact of participating in ceremony or creating your own meaningful ritual.