On January 1, 2023, this post appeared. That morning, one year ago, as I contemplated the forthcoming year, I announced what I wanted. And it surprised me. I’d asked this question of myself quite a few times since discovering the yellowed cardboard with my mother’s particular penmanship after her death. Nothing I’d announced had hit just right. Mostly, I answered with things I thought I should want, or things that my inner Facebook-Ad-Life-Coach thought I should want: “To work with famous clients who are doing good in the world, like Michelle Obama, Greta Thunberg, Doctor’s Without Borders, Kamala Harris, and Malala Yousafzai.” It sounded great, to reach high as I entered the Empty Nest years. But it didn’t feel great. It felt superficial. I’m already working with people and organizations who expertly, thoughtfully, passionately, doggedly, make positive change for us all. I am constantly amazed, challenged, awakened, and thrilled by their purpose, their words, their vital work in the world. I am honored to work with them. I am grateful. It is more than enough. So, on the first day of 2023 the surprising thing I found myself announcing, out-loud, to the quiet morning kitchen was::…Read on.

What would happen if we announced what we wanted? Out loud. Would the sky fall down? Would we stun people? Would we stun ourselves? Would relationships change? Would our lives move in a different direction? Why are we so reluctant to simply say what we want? Do we even know what we want? Announcing is not demanding or even asking, it’s just putting our wants into words. A statement. And yet…My mother was the kind of person who would stop on the highway to pick up garbage, who eschewed milk in plastic bottles, and re-used wrapping paper year after year. She also saved all of those pieces of cardboard the dry-cleaners used in men’s shirts in the 70s. Months after she died, I found myself in a room stacked with 61 boxes sent from her house in Cleveland. Boxes filled with photos, postcards, birth certificates, old passports. And one piece of dry-cleaner cardboard with her distinctive handwriting and the words…Read on.

When Dr. Drew Ramsey asked me if we could get a couch for his Charlottesville TEDx Talk, I jumped for joy! YES! Of course! And when he requested a couch he could walk on, I knew I was going to love working with him. Just having a couch on the stage gave Drew so much: it created a sense of place, his office; it rooted us in the roles of therapist and client; and it gave him a physical journey and a destination. He did not just sit on the couch, he lay down to ponder, he walked along the edge, reminding us that he was balancing ideas, he jumped on the seats, reminding us that all new ideas spring from creative play.

Movement that is habitual, stuck, repetitive, affected, keeps our communication stuck. Watch out for: pacing, meandering, wandering, backing up (in life, we only back up if a tiger is approaching—it’s OK to turn our backs to the audience).

Both walking and standing still are wonderful! We just want to make sure we are moving with purpose and clarity.

In order to cultivate freedom of movement, start here…

In the theater, we say that “theater work is life work.” The work we do to be better actors, is the work we do to be better people. This week, we emulate actors to increase our presence, impact, connection, and sway in the world. What makes someone a good actor? Read on!

The simplest, most accessible, most profound tool we have to enhance our presence, is with us every moment. Our breath.

Calming breath is used for anxiety, vocal quality, grounding, finding your authentic voice, transitions, to connect to your self, to connect with your emotions, and to connect with your audience.

This week, we breathe!