I heard the phrase, love and joy are acts of defiance from an online teacher, and it has been echoing in my mind ever since. Maybe because I’m clinging to it in the face of the chaos in the world. Maybe because, deep down, I know it’s true.
Love and joy are not passive states; they are choices. And in a world that often thrives on fear, division, and despair, choosing love and joy is revolutionary. It expands us when everything around us tries to make us small.
But pain (indeed all physical sensations and symptoms), suffering, and trauma can make that choice feel impossible. When we carry unhealed wounds, they cloud our ability to access the love and joy that are already within us. Old patterns of protection—once necessary for survival—can now keep us trapped in fear, resentment, or numbness. Healing isn’t just about feeling better; it’s about reclaiming the power to choose love instead of being ruled by our wounds.
Because Love is more powerful than hate. Joy is more powerful than fear. When we act from fear, our world shrinks. But when we stand in love, when we integrate and heal, we expand. Our choices become true choices—not reactions born of pain, but decisions made from power.
Are you ready to reclaim your power?
If unhealed pain or old patterns are keeping you stuck, you don’t have to navigate it alone. Healing is the key to unlocking more love, more joy, and more freedom in your life. Let’s talk about how my program can support you on this path.
Book a session today or reach out for a free consultation—let’s see what’s possible when you choose love over fear.
On a Personal Note
Building Resilience
I don’t know what you’ve been called to in the last six months, but for me, it’s been about traveling—traveling with a purpose. To find a new home.
Some of you know that I left St. Paul, MN, about ten years ago and embarked on a long road trip—eight months, to be exact. I landed on the West Coast, pretty close to where I grew up, to be near family. My mom wasn’t doing well, and it gave me the opportunity to spend the kind of time with her that I hadn’t been privileged to enjoy in a very long time. We had a year together, and then she was gone. And I stayed. I reconnected with family I hadn’t spent much time with in many, many years. I fostered my relationships with nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters, and my father. It’s been good.
Last fall, I hit the road again. This time, I had a general destination in mind—New England. My son had moved to upstate New York several years ago, and he and his partner bought a house there. That was one good reason to head in that direction.
The year before, I came across the word hormesis, which (in a very colloquial way) means that doing hard things builds resilience. Going on a walk when you don’t want to builds resilience. That year, I took on cold water swimming in the bay. It was hard. And it was good.
And it built my resilience.
This fall and winter, I was reminded that traveling is also a type of hormesis—especially when you don’t know where you’re going or where you’re going to land. It requires flexibility, resourcefulness, and thinking on your feet. Someone called me just a little bit unhinged. That may be true. I prefer to think of myself as a bird, with plenty of freedom and space to go where I’m called.
Turns out, I have been called. And the place is in Vermont. The town is Vergennes. It’s a sweet town. It is a very friendly town. And I hope to do good work here.
Of course, I am available to you wherever you are. And I always will be.
I’ll be on the West Coast for a month in April. I am traveling by train from Vergennes, VT to Bellingham, WA. I’ll be packing up, clearing out, and seeing friends and family.
Thanks for following along, whether it’s been a long time or a short one. I appreciate you more than you can know.
