Guten Tag, Reader, āI did not know clouds could do that,ā I thought, lying on my back, staring at the surprisingly warm May morning as it dramatically unfolded across the sky. Clouds in a higher layer, shaped like a Hogwarts staircase, moved one way, while their relatives in a lower layer, shaped like a bowl of apples, moved another. Had I stuck with studying physics, I might have been able to name and explain this phenomenon. Luckily, I didnāt, so I could fully experience it instead. Well, until the timer went off, that is. I was working, after all, guiding a small group through Monday Moss Hour, my monthly Nature Therapy gathering on Zoom. It was time, then, to call my participants back for our poetry closing. (I read REMEMBER by Joy Harjo, and if you donāt know it, you can remedy that here.) When I journaled about the session later, I noted how the cloudsā criss-cross movement looked similar to how my thoughts had been feeling since I returned from Germany. Different layers of thought moving in different directions. Maybe some of them still lingering in Germany, or caught above the Atlantic Ocean. Then my poetic ponderings were disrupted by the realization that I had forgotten to share something with you for a long time before my 8-timezone travel, so my thoughts had been criss-crossed for a while. Years? Perimenopause had put my brain in a state that felt like constant jet lag. I am using the past perfect tense deliberately here, albeit with a considerable dose of optimism, because I started hormone replacement therapy about two months ago, and it seems to help. Right now, I canāt tell because of the actual jet lag. But my body temperature hasnāt suddenly switched itself to hellfire mode in weeks. A relief to me and my husband, who hasnāt had to duck out of the way of flying clothing items. So, here is what I have been meaning to share: š¤ I was a guest on the Grace & Grit podcast.Host Courtney Townley and I spoke about how nature heals womenās bodies, minds, and spirits. Give it a listen and consider subscribing. I've learned a lot about midlife women's health from Courtney. š³ Mindful SauntersI am guiding monthly Mindful Saunters for Missoula Parks & Recreation this year. We are rotating between different parks and conservation lands, and if you live close (or will be visiting), I'd love to see you on the trail. You can find them here. š¶ wildHEROkay, I have told you about this and I will keep doing so because I REALLY want you to come. The group thatās coming together is as diverse, delightful, and impressive as we could have dreamed. There are only five seats left on the raft. What if one of them is yours? What if you allowed yourself to go Rogue for a week? How might that change your life? āClaim your space today. I will see you back here in two weeks. If you liked this letter, please forward it to a friend. Always on your side, truly, p.s. If you got something from today's letter, why not buy me a coffee? I am keeping my writing AI-free, which means a lot of creativity goes into it. You can leave me a tip here. |
I am a recovering perfectionist, productivity chaser, and people pleaser, coaching women to disrupt old thought patterns, let go of behaviors that keep them stuck, and make their joy an everyday priority.
Guten Tag, Reader, You know the sound of a bird banging against a window. Maybe youāve even had to help out (or bury) a bird who mistook glass for air. Mostly a benign magicāinvisible wallsāyet dangerous for the uninitiated. When my friends and I heard the sound yesterday, we were outside while the bird was inside the house. Such a human concept, inside/outside. I am currently at a friendās farmhouse in Northeastern Germany, the Wendland. She lives alone in a 170-year-old farmhouse. The old...
Guten Tag, Reader, One of us walks like a cartoon thiefāknee high, toe first, then heel. Of course, he might also practice a Qi Gong movement. Called The Heron, perhaps? Another walks with a sway while swinging a flappy spruce branch. āI watched my nephew do this last week,ā she will share later, āand he looked so connected with his body that I wanted to try.ā Me? I walk as slowly as my brain will allow. Stopping to pull a fresh leaf to my cheek, smell each wild onion in a patch, and caress...
Guten Tag, Reader, āDie hat doch einen Vogel,ā they say in Germany, āShe has a bird,ā when someone talks or acts a little off. As if thatās a bad thing. The bird. Or the off-ness. Not in my book. The one that I am writing in my head. Where the birds live. And where they peep. Peep. Peep. Peep. April also has a bird. "April, April, does what it will," the Germans say. Sometimes, the Germans are specific about the kind of birdāa chickadee (āne Meise). And those have been chickad-ing and dee-ing...