Do Not Let Your Strength Get in the Way

Long ago, while volunteering in hospice—quietly rubbing people’s feet near the end of their lives—I met one of my greatest teachers.

She was almost breathtaking in her vibrancy. An angel in human form, luminous even as her body was preparing to let go. In our brief time together, she offered me a message that has stayed with me for years. One I still return to. One I am still learning.

My Teacher

When I noticed that we shared the same birthday, her eyes flew open with delight. Without missing a beat, she began listing the qualities of a Capricorn: strength, independence, tenacity, hard-working, task-completing, don’t-take-anything-from-anyone attitude—basic bad-ass energy.

We laughed instantly, recognizing ourselves in each other. Our shared stubbornness. Our headstrong resolve.

As I rubbed her feet, she mostly kept her eyes closed, her face soft and peaceful. The room felt calm, sacred. When I finished and began to stand to leave, she suddenly reached out and grabbed my arm.

With unmistakable Capricorn fierceness, she locked eyes with me and said:

“Do not let your strength get in the way.”

The silence that followed was vast. The words hung in the air, echoing long after they were spoken.

Moments later, her beloved partner walked past the bed. My patient gestured toward her and explained, “She’s a Cancer.” Then she turned back to me and said,

“We are Earth dwellers. Sometimes we have to carry the water of others.”
(She nodded gently toward her love.)
“And sometimes, we must allow the water to wash over us.”

Her eyes closed again. A soft smile appeared on her face.

A few moments later, she opened her eyes once more and asked me a question that caught me completely off guard:

“What do you want your kids to know before you die?”

Without hesitation, I told her that I wanted them to know—deep in their bones—that they are loved unconditionally and accepted for exactly who they are.

She smiled and said, “They already know that.”

The room grew quiet again. Still. Tender. As we said goodbye, tears streamed down both of our faces. In less than an hour, I had received more wisdom than I could have ever hoped for. Holding her hand, I thanked her—filled with gratitude.

Once more, she repeated:

“Do not let your strength get in the way.”

The Part I Didn’t Expect

The most startling part of this experience?

That very morning, I had tattooed the word “strength” on my ribs—after asking my boys to each offer one word they associated with me.

Strength.

Perhaps what I have called strength has also been a wall. A protective barrier. A survival strategy born from necessity and resilience.

And maybe—just maybe—while that strength has served me well, it has also gotten in my way.

Because strength, when held too tightly, can block tenderness. Independence can resist receiving. Resilience can forget how to rest. And self-sufficiency can quietly keep love at arm’s length.

As Rumi reminds us:

“Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

I still carry her words with me.
Still practicing.
Still softening.
Still learning how to let the water wash over me.

My Word for 2026: Presence

An Intentional, Soulful Action Plan for Mindful Living

For the past 28 years, I have chosen a single word to guide my year. This word becomes a thread—quiet yet strong—woven into the tapestry of my life. It’s not a resolution or a goal to accomplish, but an intention to return to again and again.

My word for 2026 is Presence.

Presence feels both simple and profound. It asks nothing dramatic of me—only that I show up fully for the life I am already living.


Why I Chose Presence for 2026

We live in a world that constantly pulls us away from the moment we’re in. Even meaningful things—healing, relationships, work, growth—can become rushed or lived on autopilot.

Choosing presence is my commitment to:

  • Be where my body is
  • Listen before reacting
  • Noticing instead of rushing
  • Live my life instead of racing through it

Presence is not perfection. It is awareness. And awareness changes everything.


What Presence Means to Me

Presence means meeting my life as it is, not as I think it should be.

It is:

  • Breathing before responding
  • Listening without planning the next sentence
  • Caring for my body with attention, not impatience
  • Allowing my habits to be conscious rather than compulsive

Presence is how I want to live—in my health, my relationships, my work, and my daily habits.


A Soulful Action Plan for Living with Presence in 2026

Rather than setting rigid goals, I’ve created gentle anchors—ways to return to presence throughout the year.

Presence in My Health

My body has taught me many lessons over the years, and in 2026 I want to honor it with deeper listening.

My practices:

  • Daily check-ins: What does my body need right now?
  • Moving mindfully instead of pushing through
  • Resting without guilt
  • Choosing nourishment that supports healing and energy

Presence in health means responding instead of forcing.


Presence in My Relationships

Presence in relationships means truly being with the people I love.

My practices:

  • Putting the phone down during conversations
  • Listening to understand
  • Allowing silence without rushing to fill it
  • Speaking honestly and kindly

Being present is one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person.


Presence in My Work

My work is meaningful, and I want to meet it with intention rather than urgency.

My practices:

  • Beginning workdays with a grounding breath
  • Focusing on one task at a time
  • Creating instead of constantly consuming
  • Honoring energy levels instead of pushing productivity

Presence in work allows creativity and clarity to lead.


Presence in My Habits

Habits shape our days, and our days shape our lives.

My practices:

  • Morning rituals that begin in stillness
  • Pausing before automatic behaviors
  • Noticing patterns without judgment
  • Choosing small, sustainable actions

Presence helps habits become supportive rather than controlling.


How I Will Return to My Word Throughout the Year

A word of the year only works if we remember it.

Ways I will stay connected to presence:

  • Writing the word in my journal regularly
  • Asking, “What would presence look like right now?”
  • Letting it guide decisions both big and small
  • Allowing it to evolve as the year unfolds

This word is not a rule—it is an invitation.


An Invitation to Choose Your Own Word

Choosing a word for the year is a powerful mindfulness practice. It creates a compass rather than a checklist.

If you feel called, ask yourself:

  • What quality do I want to live with more deeply?
  • What do I need to return to this year?
  • What would support my becoming?

Then listen. The word often arrives quietly.


A Closing Reflection

Presence reminds me that my life is not waiting somewhere in the future.
It is happening now—
in this breath,
this body,
this moment.

And that is where I choose to meet 2026.

A Year of Renewal: Reflecting on Change, Courage, and New Beginnings

A Year of Renewal: Reflecting on Change, Courage, and New Beginnings

Every year, I choose a single word that becomes a thread woven through my life—my sankalpa, my heartfelt intention. This year, my word is Renewal, and as I close the door on another chapter, I can clearly see how life has been guiding me toward this exact moment of rediscovery.

2024 was unlike any year I’ve ever lived. It brought deep healing, unexpected shifts, and a powerful invitation to grow in directions I didn’t anticipate. After decades of helping others reconnect to themselves, this was the year life asked me to reconnect to me.

And I said yes.

Letting Go: Stepping Away After 18 Years

One of the biggest shifts—one that still feels surreal—was ending my 18 years of traveling to more than 50 assisted living homes. For nearly two decades, I poured my heart into teaching adaptive yoga, holding space for elders, and building community through mindful movement.

It was sacred work.
Beautiful work.
Exhausting work.

And it was time.

Pulling back to only a small handful of homes wasn’t just a schedule change. It was a soul-level shift. It was an act of honoring my body, my healing, and the next evolution of my service. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to loosen the grip on what I had always done and create space for what could be possible next.

A New Path: Becoming a Qualified Behavioral Health Assistant

This year also brought a huge professional pivot—one that aligned not only with my gifts but with my capacity.
I stepped into my new role as a Qualified Behavioral Health Assistant, helping people recover from trauma through skills, connection, and compassionate support.

This work is meaningful in a different way.
It requires less physical demand, but a deeper emotional presence.
It allows me to live my values without compromising my wellness.
And most of all, it lets me continue serving others in a way that honors my own healing journey.

Sometimes renewal doesn’t look like starting over.
Sometimes it looks like redirecting your wisdom where it can thrive.

Welcoming Rosie: Joy Arrives on Four Paws

Another bright spot this year?
I got a new puppy — sweet Rosie.

She arrived exactly when I needed a spark of uncomplicated joy, and she brought just that.
There is something magical about how animals help us stay present, soften our hearts, and remember to play. Rosie has been a daily reminder that renewal can show up in wagging tails, muddy paw prints, and early-morning snuggles.

She is a gift of pure delight.

The Big One: I Wrote My Book

And then there’s the part that still makes me say, “Did I really do that?”

I wrote my book.

After years of teaching, thousands of classes, countless conversations, and decades of lived experience… something inside me said now.
The words poured out—not from obligation, but from an inner knowing that it was time.

This book is the culmination of everything I’ve lived, learned, healed, and held.
It is a tapestry of wisdom and wellness, a snapshot of my heart in this season of life.
It is my offering.
My renewal.
My beginning again.

Writing it stretched me, surprised me, and awakened parts of my creativity that had been sleeping under the weight of survival mode. More than anything, it reminded me of my purpose—and my voice.

As I Step Into 2025

Renewal is not a return to who I used to be.
It’s an unfolding.
A softening.
A reclaiming.

This year brought endings, beginnings, and a lot of gentle in-between moments.
It taught me that clarity often arrives only after the letting go.
That healing isn’t linear.
That courage can be quiet.
And that renewal is a choice we make every single day.

As I step into 2025, I do so with gratitude, openness, trust and renewal.

My sankalpa of Renewal has been eye-opening and just rich. What is next? Stay tuned as I reveal my word for 2026! It is going to be a good one!

Karuna: Compassion in Action — How Mindful Compassion Transforms Your Life

Compassion in Action

Karuna is one of my favorite Sanskrit words. Often translated as compassion, its deeper meaning is so much richer. Karuna is compassion in motion — the kind of compassion that not only feels but responds. It is the moment when the heart whispers:
“I see your suffering, and I will meet it with love.”

Compassion doesn’t need to be grand. Most of the time, it’s quiet and ordinary. It lives in the small choices we make every day.

Karuna is the way we soften our tone when someone is tense.
Karuna is choosing not to take something personally.
Karuna is pausing before reacting.
Karuna is reaching out, even when we’re unsure what to say.
Karuna is treating ourselves as gently as we treat others.

In yoga philosophy, Karuna is one of the Brahmaviharas — the four heart qualities that guide us toward connection and ease. It reminds us that our compassion is not passive; it is embodied, lived, and expressed through action.

And the beautiful thing?
Karuna grows when we practice it.

When we offer compassion to someone else, we strengthen our own inner resilience. When we extend compassion toward ourselves, we become more available to others. It’s a cycle of generosity that feeds itself.

Today, I invite you to practice Karuna in one small way:

  • Offer a kind word to someone who seems overwhelmed.
  • Give yourself grace for something you’re carrying.
  • Check in on a friend who has been on your heart.
  • Interrupt a familiar stress pattern with one slow, mindful breath.
  • Choose a response rooted in care rather than reaction.

Compassion in action doesn’t change the whole world,
but it absolutely changes someone’s world.

And that is enough.

May your day be guided by Karuna —
gentle, courageous, and deeply human.

The Week After the Book Release: Gratitude, Growth, and Grace

The week following the release of my book has felt like a dream I once whispered quietly to myself that finally came true. There’s been so much joy—messages from readers, kind words from friends, and a deep, steady sense of gratitude that continues to unfold each day.

It’s funny how something that begins as a simple intention—a quiet goal set in the corner of your heart—can grow into something that touches others. I remember the early mornings when doubt was louder than belief. I remember pushing through moments of resistance, showing up even when I questioned if anyone would care. But what I’ve learned through this process is that staying accountable, even when no one’s watching, builds a kind of inner trust that no outside validation can replace.

Releasing this book has not just been about sharing my words; it’s been about becoming the kind of person who finishes what she starts. I’ve discovered a deeper layer of confidence that comes from commitment—from choosing to keep going even when imposter syndrome whispers that you’re not ready or not enough.

Action Makes It Real

This journey reminded me that we don’t have to wait until we feel perfectly confident to take action. Confidence comes from taking action. From showing up, again and again, even when the outcome is uncertain.

As I sit here reflecting on this first week of sharing my work with the world, my heart is full. I’m grateful for every person who has read, shared, or reached out. I’m grateful for the years of learning, unlearning, healing, and creating that led me here.

Dreams and Goals

If you’re holding onto a dream—whether it’s writing a book, starting a project, or simply taking the next brave step—trust that the process will shape you just as much as the outcome. You don’t have to be fearless. You just have to begin.

Because sometimes, the most powerful transformation happens not when the world sees what you’ve created, but when you finally see what you’re capable of.

If my journey resonates with you, I’d love for you to explore my new book, 52 Weeks of Wisdom & Wellness: A Year of Mindful Living. It’s a reflection of the lessons, practices, and heart-centered truths that helped me stay grounded through the seasons of growth.