After reading through my site, many people are left with the question: If I can grow love and cultivate attraction, can I make a relationship work with any good and loving partner with whom I share values and vision? My short answer is: no. Let me explain.
There’s a mysterious element of relationship called connection. Connection is the magnetic pull that draws you toward certain cities, places in nature, work environments, and people. It’s why some people feel drawn to the desert and others are drawn to the ocean. “I feel connected to forests,” one person might say, while someone else shares, “I feel connected to the buzz and rush of city life.” We each respond to different types of art, style, design, and music. It’s why we have country music, hard rock and classical.
So just like you wouldn’t choose to be friends with anyone – even if … Click here to continue reading…
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We live in a very loud world. The industrial revolution shattered the silence and rhythmic sounds of the natural world and the technological revolution has escalated noise to new heights. It seems that most people can hardly last three minutes without grabbing some electronic device that breaks the silence and infuses it with a cacophony of unnatural sound. Silence is quickly becoming a lost art, and it may be irretrievably lost if we don’t intentionally protect it.
The constant soundtrack of machinery and gadgets dovetails perfectly with the extrovert ideal that informs our culture. We hold talking in very high regard. We value babies who are bubbly and chatty with strangers over those who prefer the quiet spaces of home. We place a high premium on the verbal aspects of intelligence (which is why girls tend to perform better in school). The boisterous, football-playing, party-going teenage guy will attract more … Click here to continue reading…
. . . → Read More: Being in Silence
There are moments of deepest heart-tender grace when my nine-year old son breaks me open and brings me to tears, when I see clearly into the center of his soul and it feels like I’m looking at an angel. These aren’t always joyous moments; no, quite often they’re fraught with pain at the challenge of how one so exquisitely sensitive, with skin as fair as light, must walk through this often harsh and cruel world. While there is literature now on highly sensitive children, it’s not enough. Quite often I sense that my husband and I are fumbling in the dark as we try to raise our son to be an independent, confident person without crushing his spirit.
It’s 11:30pm and he’s been trying to fall asleep for several hours. Tired from my full day of clients and having woken up early with my four-year old, I’m not pleased with … Click here to continue reading…
. . . → Read More: The Boy Who Couldn’t Fall Asleep
It’s not here yet, but for the highly sensitive among us we feel winter’s imminent descent with each minute of daylight that joins the tribe of night. The days are shorter; the leaves have almost completed their arabesques and twirls of their final dance. Soon the branches will lay stark against early twilight skies, the cerulean blue now articulating the crisp line of bough that was shrouded inside summer’s leaves.
What crisp lines of soul will be revealed during the internal time that winter invites?
Many of my clients share that they dread winter. It often holds memories of anxious times, or times when the sheets and blankets of bed felt too heavy to remove. They fear that they’re not far enough into their growth and they’ll fall prey to the underside of winter, the long black fingers that creep into the crack between sleep and wake and pull them … Click here to continue reading…
. . . → Read More: The Richness of Winter
I grew up on a safe, tree-lined street on the West side of Los Angeles. We lived two blocks from the 405 freeway, one block from a strip mall that included a bank, Marie Calendars restaurant, McDonald’s, and Kentucky Fried Chicken, and across a busy street was Pic N’Sav (now Big/Lots), Hughes (now Ralphs), and Thrifty (now Rite-Aid)). Although I felt acutely disconnected from nature, we reveled in the convenience that we could walk to so many stores and restaurants or hop on the freeway in minutes. There were no big trees, no creeks, no open spaces, and, well, no threat of natural disasters. I felt safe. In my bubble world, I didn’t even know that hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, or ice storms existed. Sure, we experienced the occasional earthquake, but I learned to roll with the rumbles and they never caused anxiety.
In the weeks following the recent floods, I … Click here to continue reading…
. . . → Read More: Living with Uncertainty