It should be easy, right? Things should just fall into place, click, be all Sympatico. You should ‘meet cute’ on a colourful city sidewalk where you are distracted by a street vendor hollering today’s deal on hot dogs and they are leaning over to pick up the package an old lady just unwittingly dropped, and
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Enjoy this pre-COVID oldie but goodie. Here is the nightmare; it’s Christmas Eve and you are at the mall. Wait, no, that’s not it. It get’s worse. It’s Christmas eve and you are at the mall and you can’t find the gift that you need, and you keep running from store to store, but everything
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I’ve never used Botox, but I think jealousy can be likened to the neurotoxin. In very small carefully placed and managed doses, it helps us. I mean it feels good to be wanted. We want our paramour to see us as desirable, to know that other bachelors/bachelorettes find us desirable, and to give some general
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This week I would like to pay forward a request that came into my inbox asking me to take the time to read and honour the story of a person of colour. I could think of no one better to ask then my beloved client, friend, colleague and beautiful human, Patrician Goulbourne. Patricia has
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I don’t know about you, but today friends I am tired of feeling vulnerable. Maybe I need a day off of emotional bravery.I feel kind of suspended. The innermost part of me, the one I have forged a deep abiding love and loyalty to over the years is patiently waiting for care-giving me to come
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I forgive you. What?! You say. What could you possibly need forgiveness for, you haven’t wronged me. In fact you say nice things to me and about me, you spend your precious time reading at least some of the things I say, and basically you are pretty freaking stand up as humans go, except for that
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This weekend I had the pleasure of giving a talk for a lovely group of Moms from all over the globe who were needing some support and insight in dealing with some of the heavy of momming during this current state of the world. I have written these insights into this week’s musing, FOR EVERYONE,
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Well it’s about time I told you this story.It was 1982. Ninth grade. I was in my friend’s parents’ basement, killing time on the sofa while she executed her daily ablutions in the bathroom. We called it, much like the kids today, “getting ready”. Ready for us, like kids today, meant achieving maximum attractiveness to
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Yep, while we are living out the same days, same routines, or slipping into the abyss of routine-less-ness (taking some liberties here friends) our inner worlds are undergoing a tectonic plate shifting kind of upheaval, gradual and massive. The emotions keep churning, even though we are doing our very best to outsmart them. I myself
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