Violence

"Actions, rhetoric, and consequences are not separate islands—they feed each other."

I have read this sentence in a few places and would like to attribute it to someone, yet I am not finding the direct source. I do find wisdom here though. And, in addition to actions, rhetoric, and consequences, I also add 'thought' to this sequence as it naturally precedes the others. Most importantly, what I find interlaced between thought, action, rhetoric, and consequence is our own deeply personal and reactive nature.

So much of what we pay attention to moment by moment is deeply reactive. Current events are triggering. And paying deep attention to these events feeds a certain kind of addiction to the drama. We know this, right? We're drawn in and we immediately lose our perspective and commitment to be present, thoughtful, clear, and communicative. This isn't our fault. This is how we're wired. Sure, we can be balanced within this all without being inundated, yet balance is not easy to find for most of us once we dive in. The world is not black and white, not cookie cutter, and yet our reactive systems try to make us believe this to be true. Us vs. Them. Right vs. Wrong. Left vs. Right. You catch my drift.

So then, much of how we're moving collectively nowadays comes from this reactive and fractal place in our system. Violence also comes from this place in our system. The traumas we have sustained (and are sustaining) come from this system. I'm not saying you are a violent and traumatized person... yet here we are. We're human. And we're hurting.

We need to heal. All of us. And it starts with the person you see in the mirror, not the person on the other end of your pointed finger/accusation. It starts with the voice(s) in your head. It starts with your thoughts and thought process. It starts with being held accountable. It starts with understanding we can carry this responsibility for ourselves, and we can help to carry it for one another. I do not think we can do this by ourselves, and we certainly cannot do it in our shallow echo chambers. This is going to take work.

Truthful, peaceful, and deeply productive conversations need to happen. Everywhere. Now. Pointing fingers and placing blame... especially on social media? This goes nowhere. Time to move forward. Time to evolve.

I can share that two family members have died due to gunshot wounds. I was raised by an angry and verbally abusive mother whose volume and intensity increased steadily as she got older. I was four months pregnant with my daughter on this tragic day twenty-four years ago. I have actively worked with depression and suicidal thoughts since I was fourteen. I am no stranger to violence and the voices in my head, and I know full well my own reactive nature. I was raised to fight and to push through. To be hard. I can access this even now, yet it is not my nature. It is not where I am in balance. I speak freely about these things, especially with my daughter, because I have needed to heal these places within myself. She deserves to know the truth, and she too deserves to heal from these generational patterns.

This is why I do the work I do. It inspires me every single day. It starts with me; the woman I see in the mirror. I want to be held accountable for my thoughts, actions, and rhetoric; and I sure do want to be aware of the consequences.

We can all do this. Together. Bless our path.


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


Reflecting on Death and Dying

My dad’s memorial service was held one year ago on this day. His and my mom’s ashes were then buried together in the cemetery where four previous generations of his family are interred. I felt immense relief at the end of the day one year ago, in completing the last step of holding my dad and honoring him as best I could during the six years we cared for and advocated for him. I imagined that I’d feel more myself at the end of the day one year ago, more like the sense of my self had come back in.

Yet, as I sit here today, I can share that I am somewhat more lost than ever. I became an empty nester at about the same time as I became an orphan. My life had been dedicated to parenting, and then to caregiving. So, now passed the crossroads of these milestones, I now have the luxury of reflecting and of finding balance.

I don’t know if I’ll come back from caregiving with the same lightness I once carried. I seek to see the world with freshness again, yet I am bone weary. I wish my parents had the courage to communicate with each other and with me about their declining health and their needs as they got older. Instead, they slammed phones and doors and avoided me, shutting out any possibility of conversing about what was inevitable. That day finally arrived when my mom suddenly passed, and it all came crashing down on my shoulders. I wish I had been prepared. I wish I had been more resilient. Most of all I wish I missed my mom and dad now. I don’t, especially her. This makes me sad, yet I am so much more relieved they are both free from their suffering; her from her demons and him from his pain.

Caregiving shattered me and it crushed me. I’m not sure how else to put it. We moved through each day working off sheer will and instinct. Outside of the high demands of his physical needs, his mind was both beautiful and complicated. He was lost when my mom died: she controlled every part of his life. Thankfully she went first. I realized immediately that I could be there for my dad. If he had passed first, there is no way in hell I could have cared for her. Sitting with sixteen months between his passing and where I am today, I know for sure now there is absolutely no way I’d go back and take care of my dad again if I had the choice.

Today I invite my heart to break open so I can peel back more layers of our complicated family dynamics. Today I have time to reflect. Today I can share too that too many years of holding complications internally does not fare well for our physical health in the long run. Life is complicated. Family dynamics are complicated. I am willing to admit that I am complicated.

Here’s to healing and releasing, opening and allowing softness back into our bodies, our lives, and especially our hearts as we all make our way forward. Here’s to quieting the multitude of distractions so the mind can fully clear.

I want to recognize those in my tribe who have stayed close, especially my husband. I have not been myself for a very long time. It is truly beautiful to see who has remained with me, holding my hand and heart tenderly in the stadium of life after a big game, after the sun has set, and the crew has turned off all the lights. From this place of supported darkness, we can truly see the stars and the moon shine.

Someday, I hope to help others feel more prepared if they find themselves in the same position. Death and the dying process are not the worst of what I faced: they have been the most magical aspects of this entire experience.

(This is the last image taken of my dad and I holding hands. He passed a few hours after this was taken.)


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.


My Daughter

There is a lot I can say about my daughter.

What comes to mind this very moment is how resilient and determined she is. This time last week she started working with an orthopedic surgeon who was evaluating her for a stress fracture in the neck of her left femur. She was scheduled for an MRI Wednesday and, depending on the results, she’d either go into surgery as soon as possible and/or remain on crutches for the next six to eight weeks. Either way, she was going to need to look at the next two months very differently. I witnessed her making immediate adjustments moment by moment as this very new information was coming forward, understanding this last semester of school suddenly looked very different.

It was determined that she would in fact go into surgery so that two screws could be utilized to help reinforce her femur. Remarkably this was her first surgery and she did great. Deep breaths and now to invite the healing process to begin!

She is still required to be on crutches for six to eight weeks and is adjusting in stellar ways. Fast forward to this week and she has exceeded all expectations, making her way around town and campus like a champ. Her dad and granddad were due last weekend for a visit and lo and behold, this image of her was taken by her dad when they went out Friday night for a drink and a piece of pizza. I am finding despite the frustrations she faces at times, her spirit rises to the occasion and she creates a new pathway forward.

On this day celebrating daughters, I honor mine in more ways than I can count. Here’s to you, Emily. May you continue to shine your light even during the darkest of moments.

I love you ❤️


Until next time I offer these words of wisdom for better or for worse. Please take them with a grain of salt for we each live our own individual truths. Our mission while we are here is to understand, accept, and celebrate that one very simple, but incredibly significant fact. For all this, I am grateful.