Home for lunch from Mrs. Dillingham's third grade, mom sitting kitty-corner at the table, canned chicken noodle soup steaming in front of me: "Don't you ever say that again."
I was just Aquarian enough to take her injunction and turn it into a life's work. Forty years of sitting with others, helping them unearth their fears and concerns, dusting them off, bringing them into the light - often (gently) saying, with knife-like acuity, what they needed to hear to begin to heal.
Home for lunch from Mrs. Dillingham's third grade, mom sitting kitty-corner at the table, canned chicken noodle soup steaming in front of me: "Don't you ever say that again."
I was just Aquarian enough to take her injunction and turn it into a life's work. Forty years of sitting with others, helping them unearth their fears and concerns, dusting them off, bringing them into the light - often (gently) saying, with knife-like acuity, what they needed to hear to begin to heal.
And now, I write.
Looking forward to late May, Laura!