I watched two dragonflies smash each other against a branch sticking out of the murky water’s edge the other day, and I’ve been thinking about them ever since.

Up until yesterday late afternoon, the main way I’d fight back tears when I didn’t want to cry was to remember the time my dad fell when we were skating.

Sherry is one of the amazing writers I work with, and, as you will soon hear, she is a force.

The mind is a meaning making machine, so when something happens to us that feels overwhelming, confusing, catastrophic, our mind gets to work to figure out what it all means.

I got derailed by taking the Wayfinder life coach training.

Most adopted people have stories about being told Enough already or Everyone feels like that or Aren’t you just lucky to have a family? when speaking about adoption.

In addition to the confusion I have between distinguishing between my nervous system and my body compass, I would like to talk about the confusion I have as an adopted person over the existence of having both a body compass and an adopted body compass.

I have found that to be embodied and to be an adopted person is a paradox.

I jumped right into the topic in my last post without covering what life coaching is.

Asking someone whose home base is survival what their dream life is like can be like asking a drowning person what they would like for lunch.

Narrating a book you’ve written is an amazing and rewarding experience, but it does come with challenges.

I first drove from Massachusetts to California to be a sophomore at Occidental College when I was twenty-one.