I want to tell you about Moon. 

This is a sad story—one that has stayed on my mind since I heard it. 

Moon was a humpback whale that lived off the coast of British Columbia in the summer, Maui in the winter.

Does His Holiness the Dalai Lama have a small, jagged rock hidden in a tiny corner of his robe?

He must have at least one flaw in those maroon folds.

I mean, is it truly possible to hold unconditional positive regard for everyone—all the time?

Carl Rogers thought we could—he believed healing comes from unconditional acceptance of others we are in relationship with, regardless of what they say or do.

I saw a butterfly land on a man’s hat.

The hat was orange. The butterfly was yellow.

It was a tiger swallowtail.

This was at the Miami Open last weekend, when I was watching women’s doubles with some girlfriends.

There’s magic in them there woods!

Spring is here.

It’s warm enough that we are out hiking again. We’re working our way through the system of recreational trails, focusing on easy ones.

I don't have much left of my parents. But I still have my dad's Bean boots.

They are duck boots, the kind without laces. Size 10.

My son used to fit into them—when he was in high school, he would wear them to shovel the back steps when it snowed. 

But my son lives in Florida now.

I want to be a biker chick.

Imagine focusing on fun more than on small worries. Not sweating the small stuff. Sunshine at your back, wind in your face. Leaning into mountainside turns, tearing up the road.

Having all that moxie!

I’ve been caught in a few narratives lately.

Such as: I’m way too busy at work.

And: I miss my Mom.

And: My tennis elbow is never going to heal.

When I was 29, I went to a soul reader.

I didn’t know what this even was at the time.

But friends had seen this woman before—and they said it was a life-changing experience for them.

The world feels a bit untrustworthy about now.

I’m not the only one feeling a bit anxious. It could be the climate and the lack of snow, watching the news, thinking about war, or anticipating the U.S. election (whichever feels as if we all might lose whichever way it goes).

Friends sometimes make fun of me for questions I tend to ask.

I admit it.

I get tired of surface-level conversations. I am tired of shallow. I want to go deep.

Ever feel that way?

I am working on one big thing right now.

That is: Not getting worked up.

As in, not letting myself get irritated by things happening around me. In particular, I’m working with those moments when someone or something violates one of my values and I get upset or shut down.

What’s your word for 2024?

Do you have one?

We need some positive energy out there, people!

Did you realize we have an election coming in the U.S.? War is going on in several places in the world. Global temperatures are rising. Inequities and gaps are growing. Our world needs some fresh and lively energy.

What a week.

All I can say is, “Wow.”

The new year came with a lot of loss.

Grief.

Wounds that won’t be healed easily—if ever.

Last week, I went into a boutique looking for a new pair of jeans.

I had been in the shop many, many times before to buy a pair of earrings or a gift for a friend. But I usually steered away from their jeans because I’m short and chunky and most pants are too skinny or too long off a shelf.

I went for a facial a few days ago. 

The esthetician at the salon asked what kind I wanted. Anti-aging? Hydrating? Detoxifying? Lifting? In other words, what package could she offer in a valiant effort to connect my skin to what it used to be?

Remember Footloose?

I loved that movie.

It was everything the ’80s was about. 

Ren—otherwise known as Kevin Bacon—moved to a tiny southwest town with his mom.

Growing boys is like growing mangoes.

That’s what my Uber driver told me, anyway.

I was dying to hear more.

His name was Tanveer, and he grew up in India, one of the places where mangoes originated.

If you ever have a chance to feed a giraffe, say yes.

I just did this at a zoo in Florida.

When I saw the sign that you could feed a giraffe for $5, I said jokingly to my adult son, “Want to feed the giraffes?”

Leave it.

One of my coaching clients shared that this was her theme for herself this week.

Rather than obsess, perseverate, or allow a wayward thought to cycle again and again through her head, she told herself, Leave it!

My tennis elbow is back.

I am having trouble opening jars. Pulling my suitcase out of the overhead bin. Shaking someone’s hand.