Why I Will Never Own A Gun


I don’t want to hear it anymore. 

I’ve seen post after post about gun rights. Who should own a gun and who shouldn’t. Here’s the thing: I will never, ever, ever own a gun.

Yeah, I know – you’ve owned guns because you’ve used them hunting in the state where you’re from. And that’s an acceptable reason to own and use a gun and yes, it’s your 2nd Amendment right and I support that.  Not a fan of automatic assault rifles that can shoot several bullets in a few seconds is all I’m sayin’

But as we sit on the eve of having anyone in the world able to create an unregistered weapon from a 3D printer recipe on the internet – whelp, that’s where I’m stepping off of this train of the second amendment debate.

Here’s the article about 3D guns

I grew up with guns (several of them) in our home. Every single day, I only had to look up at the wall in our family room to see my father’s very extensive collection of guns. From the early 1800’s on forward, he had several guns, pistols and rifles and swords. He hunted as a young boy, joined the Navy and knew (was taught by his dad and trained by the Navy) how to use his guns. The ammunition was kept separately and far away from the guns he had (Mom – an ER Nurse – made sure of this).

The picture above is a photo of my grandmother – she didn’t hunt. She was a fisherman who used a drop line to catch fish. See a fishing pole in this picture? – It’s because there isn’t one. The Northeast is known for fishing. Watch any fisherman head miles out into the North Atlantic during the late summer / early Fall months when hurricanes and strong Nor’easters are prevalent and you will know how tough fishing can be. In our family, our freezer was filled with frozen fish that helped keep food on our table through the winter months. Ask me to join you for a dinner consisting of bluefish or mackerel and I will politely turn you down because I have had far too much… okay, maybe Cod.

My grandmother’s mom died shortly after giving birth to her. A few years later, her father was struck and killed by a cable car when he was crossing the street, leaving my grandmother in the care of her older sister and her sister’s boyfriend.  They didn’t have an easy life. But my grandmother made it through to marry my grandfather and give birth to my mom and her brother (my uncle).

To this day, I have never met a woman as firmly grounded in her values as my grandmother. How do I know this? – Because I tried to buy a gun.

It didn’t go over well and it wasn’t even real.

Once when I was visiting my grandmother, she gave me some money and said to go to the little store down the street to get whatever I wanted. So off I went and walked down the street trying to decide what I was going to purchase.

Upon reviewing all of the toys available to me, I selected a very small, bright orange squirt gun. (Nope, not kidding, it was a squirt gun). It was about two inches long and seemed to hold a lot of water in it. It wasn’t even one of those semi-automatic super soaker squirt guns that you see today; it was an “old” one (yeah, you probably weren’t even born yet so just keep reading..). Happily, I walked home, ready to fill it and squirt people – aka my grandmother (who was taking care of me while my parents were away).

When she saw the gun I had purchased she became apoplectic. “Take it back!” she demanded. I couldn’t understand why. “Take it back!” she said again. “Little girls do not use guns!” (I was six or seven years old at the time).

I walked back to the store, sad and dejected because she did not approve of my hunter / gatherer & squirt decision. I traded it in and returned with a super ball which I played with outside until it was time for dinner.

Over dinner, my grandmother explained to me that yes, some people owned guns that they used for hunting but that I did not need one. She also explained that police officers carried guns to protect those of us in our community and again affirmed that I would never need a gun. If there was a conflict that needed to be resolved, she explained, then this was what our brains were for. That we used our ability to communicate with each other tactfully and in a way that reduced any potential for violence.

“Use your head”, she said “that’s what it’s for; to communicate with each other and resolve arguments and misunderstandings. And if you ever need help, ask us!”

To this day, I have never forgotten the conviction she had during that conversation. 3 degrees and 2 graduate certificates later, I know for sure that I have enough knowledge, conviction, empathy, tact and compassion to know that I have a keen ability to resolve a lot of different conflicts. Guns will not be playing a part in my life (at least not of my choosing anyway).

As much as I often miss my grandmother, I’m glad that she is not around to see what the internet and 3D printing have produced as it relates to guns.

And while I will never know if guns in the possession of someone else will ever affect my life or the lives of my family and friends, I have learned that there are just some things in life that you can’t predict or control.

After 9/11 and United 93 (the flight that crashed in Shanksville, PA), I also learned that you can’t predict what will happen if terrorists take over your flight and try to fly it into a building or something else.  And that you certainly can’t predict who will stand up and try to overpower them, even if there is the potential that they will also die.

But this is where my head goes whenever there are increasing discussions about guns and gun violence:

Sometimes when I’m sitting by myself at a gate in an airport waiting for a plane, I look around for “that guy” or “that girl”. The one I think looks like they have the ability to stand up, fight back and overpower the terrorists and try to save those who are on the plane. I look at their posture, stance and non-verbals – trying to find the heroes among us – the ones you don’t notice and don’t know who walk among us every day. To me, these are people who don’t need guns. They have a keen, MacGyver like sense to figure out what to do and how to do it, quietly and collaboratively in a tribal, patriotic “we few, we happy few, we band of brothers” sort of way – no matter who they are, no matter where they’re from, no matter what their gender, religion, education, nationality, socioeconomic status or sexual orientation is.

They’re just caring, compassionate people looking to help those who need help even though they don’t know them and even though they may die themselves.

They may use guns for hunting or drop lines to fish and / or their brain to communicate. But what’s equally as important is what Martin Luther King once described as the “content of their character”.


Lobster Rolls I Have Loved

Lobster at Mabel’s Lobster in Kennebunkport, ME – best lobstah evah!

So let me just preface this by saying that I’m not sure how this lobster roll thing started but I can tell you I have had some wonderful lobstah this summer.

Best Lobster Roll #1 (pictured above) – from Mabel’s Lobster Claw Restaurant in Kennebunkport, ME. The above is the “Savanna” which is lobster, scallops, and shrimp with their Newburg sauce topped with cheese (which I’m pretty sure was provolone – which gave it all a really nice “bite” while not cutting into the taste of the seafood). Best lunch ever (and expensive at  $37.00+ ish – depending on season prices but very well worth it given the portion of seafood that you get; and did I tell you there was cheese?).

Best Lobster Roll #2: from the Academe Restaurant at the Kennebunk Inn (see photo below right). This was a lunch order stacked with huge pieces of lobster (seemed like more than 1 lobster as well). Did not have a ton of mayo but enough to keep everything together. The onion rings were also really great.

When you look at the menu, you will see they also have Lobster Pot Pie which is also highly recommended (by Oprah!) but the Traditional Maine Lobster Roll was the best (price was $29.00 – I know, but remember, you’re on vacation – go ahead; and get some ice cream when you’re done!).

Lobster Roll from the Academe Restaurant at the Kennebunk Inn

Favorite Lobster Roll #3 found at The Harbor Room in New Harbor, ME (pictured below) We ended up here on a very rainy day in October. We hadn’t heard about The Harbor Room restaurant but saw a very packed parking lot so we stopped in. The lobster roll was packed with lobster and was definitely one of the best I’ve ever had. This is a beautiful restaurant with photos done by local photographers and a Sunday brunch that is phenomenal. I would suggest you grab a reservation via open table before heading there so you don’t have to risk not being able to be seated.


You should also have the desert – say it with me: “apple cobbler heated with ice cream”!


Favorite Lobster Roll #4 found in Bristol, New Hampshire at The Big Catch. There isn’t a picture because it was so good that I ate it really fast. All I can say is get there early, see if you can substitute onion rings for the French Fries (if you’re not a fan of fries) and enjoy!

Favorite Lobster Roll #5 was from The River House in Portsmouth, NH. There was a combo that had seafood chowdah (consisting of lobstah, clams, shrimp, and fish which was very well seasoned and creamy) and a Lobster Roll (see photo below). The Lobster Roll itself had just a smidge of a little too much mayo but was packed and really good. Additionally, the service along with the view of the Portsmouth waterfront was beautiful. And – just to make things really interesting, the restaurant is just down the street from the tour that can bring you out to Isles of Shoals.  

All this to say – it’s summertime, kids! Make sure you spend the time to park yourself in front of a top-notch Lobster Roll if you are spending time in New England!

Lobster Roll from The River House in Portsmouth, NH

Lobster Roll #6 with chowder for lunch at Bob’s in Kittery (pictured below right). Here’s what’s great about these lobster and seafood places along rt 1 – they’re typically crowded (this time of year), and because of this it’s not uncommon to share a table with others that are there. Today I met a couple from Ct on their way to Ogunquit to spend the weekend with friends. “We do this every year,” they told me, affirming they like being in Maine this time of year (just after Labor Day) when things are slowing down a little.

When I told them I was researching kayaks at the Kittery Trading Post next door, they told me they were kayaking in Block island a few weeks ago. “I love Block Island!” I told them, recounting stories of mom and dad and their weekly walks to the library for books and fresh, sweet corn on the cob from the farm stand.

Lobster Roll from Bob’s in Kittery, ME

Sometimes it amazes me how much we have in common with the people who step into our path – even if it’s just for lunch at a shared table.

Lobster Roll #7 (pictured below) at home in Newport, Rhode Island. After arriving to meet a friend for lunch at the Black Pearl, I was informed that I couldn’t “be seated until everyone was present”. When my friend arrived, we went in and were informed it would be a “lengthy wait” at >30 minutes. So we resorted to “plan B” – lobster at The Lobster Bar at the end of Bowen’s Wharf.  We decided to go with chowdah and lobster rolls.

Lobster Roll from The Lobster Bar at the end of Bowen’s Wharf in Newport, RI

When the lobster rolls arrived they were pretty big and stuffed with tender pieces of claw meat that were cooked to perfection. There was a very substantial lobster menu as well as clams, scallops, and fish and chips. The restaurant itself is at the end of the wharf and on this early October, the day was perfect to sit at a table outside while enjoying wonderful food, excellent conversation, and a great view of the busy harbor.

Doesn’t matter what day it is – there’s a lobster roll waiting for you. Go!

The Thing About Selfies…


This is the top of Cadillac Mountain in Maine. I recently took a trip there with a friend hoping to get away for a nice weekend, eat some lobster and take some great photos. The other part of this story was that my mom had died a few months prior to this and she and my dad had taken my brother and I here on a vacation when we were really little.

Years ago, we went everywhere on that trip to Maine, but the trip to the top of Cadillac Mountain was my favorite. I remember taking the trip to Acadia National Park but I was so young that there were other parts of the trip that I couldn’t remember so revisiting this area was a way to reconnect with that memory and that time so long ago.

As with any National Park, it’s not uncommon to meet families from all over the world taking selfies and pictures of each other. As I stood watching them, I remembered my parents with their camera, taking pictures of my brother and I. This was back before there were cell phones, video cameras, cassette players in your car. It was so long ago that the car was a station wagon that had paneling on the side. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.

I think Johnson may have been President. Back when the Beatles were not yet famous.

You get it right? – it was a long, long time ago.

Anyhoo – as I stood there watching, at least 10 families were taking pictures which were mostly selfies – extending their arms straight out to capture the picture of everyone with them.

Watching them bugged the heck out of me. I thought about how many pictures we had of our family together that it suddenly became very important for me to make sure every family I ran into had the ability to acquire the same memories and family photo that I did – a picture of them together. (And I mean TOGETHER – not this extended from an arm lengths away crap).

So it became my mission to ask every family I saw with a camera “hey, can I take that picture for you?”. Every one of them agreed and handed me their camera or their cell phone. And I didn’t take just one picture, I took at least five. And then I would teach them my favorite photography term – “scrunch up!”. It felt so good to see them all smile and hug their children and each other.

Suddenly – taking a picture, a panoramic like the one above (which I eventually did take when I ran out of families..) was not as important to me as making sure they all had great memories of a wonderful day in one of our country’s most beautiful parks.

At one point, I ran into two girls, sisters I think, who had a camera that I couldn’t get to focus. The camera owner acknowledged she had been struggling with it and said “I’m having trouble with my lens, here use my phone.” She handed me her iPhone and I was able to get great shots of the two of them together. But then I looked at the phone and had no idea what the language was on the phone. 

So I asked them “what language is this?” and they said “Finnish!”. “Ahh, land of the happy people” I told them (suddenly not sure if it was Finland or Denmark), but they laughed and went on their way, walking down the trail to get a better view of the beautiful sunset.

Watching them walk away from me I realized that I haven’t taken enough vacations to our national parks. And I realized that there may be a difference between taking a selfie and being fully present and engaged in a photo together with the ones you love the most.



Last Thursday, I went to the eye doctor. I thought I would spend an hour ish there and have an eye exam and find some new glasses after breaking mine a few weeks ago. 3+ hours and several tests and scans later, I left with a referral to a retina specialist because the doc found some spots.

In our family, we have this thing about diagnoses that aren’t good. Like trying to take things step by step by step while researching symptoms, providers and trying to strategize a plan. Having been on the receiving end of a “You have to have this done – NOW!”, order from a Doc at the NIH when I was initially diagnosed with a rapidly spreading melanoma, I’m always a little more neurotic and emotional then my parents whose illnesses usually progressed a lot slower then mine.

So my super thorough retired Air Force Doc, said he wanted to refer me to a retina specialist. He said this referral would take a few days. Interestingly, it took only a few hours and they called Friday morning to schedule an appointment for Monday afternoon. While I was glad to have the follow up appointment, the anticipation and “what if’s” took over.

It wasn’t an easy weekend. I drove down to see mom and went to Home Depot as we thought it would be good to find her a small Christmas tree. When I found the perfect tree on display on a high shelf, I asked the sales clerk where the boxes were that had the trees in them (as opposed to the display model). He asked me to show him where the tree was and walked with me as I pointed it out.

There were no boxes below the shelf and as he looked at his little hand held inventory thingy, he asked me to read the model number (on the tag of the tree on the shelf) to him. I looked at the tag and couldn’t see it. Nuthin’. This is the point where I started to get a little emotional as normally, my vision is really good.

No, I mean really, really good. Like “look at that small spot on the fly on top of that tall building 100 yards down the street through thick fog” type good.

I walked to the car and cried a little more before checking 5 other stores to find the perfect Christmas tree. Nuthin’.

Then I drove home and mom and I strategized on how to navigate the appointment with the retina specialist and then we formulated a plan with a range of having everything work out to the worst case scenario. Throughout the discussion we managed to only use the term “ocular melanoma” (my biggest fear) once.

On Monday morning, Nate and I had a conversation with God about how to handle the next few hours and yes, we listened to “Be Thou My Vision” just to anchor the anticipation of it all and not lose sight of faith. I left for my appointment at 2:00. Nate offered to drive but I told him, “No” – that I didn’t think his small paws would reach the accelerator of the Lexus.

The Doc, a very tall YNNH trained physician looked at the test results from my super thorough Doc and said “You have (insert very long, hard to pronounce 4 word clinical term here).

“Okay so now tell me in English.” I said.
He told me “this term isn’t anything you need to know or remember and all it means is ‘you have a really large spot on the back of your eye’ and if you didn’t have a history of melanoma, I’d thank you for coming in and send you on your way. But because you do, I’d like to see you again in 2 1/2 months and we’ll use the tests and scans that Dr. Johnson sent as your baseline.”

“Okay, that works for me!” I told him. Happy that the “Plan B” worst-case scenario that mom and I had developed would no longer need to be considered.

The rest of the day was good. Mom’s tree was ordered via Amazon when I arrived home and Nate was very happy he would not have to learn to drive.

See? Vision is a good thing.

The Legacy of Grey Stewart


I don’t know how it happened. The woman from LL Bean called to say that we had a rebate from returning some of mom’s clothes that didn’t fit.

I was telling her about my challenges with boots for her and then realized that, as it’s getting colder, some nice, toasty flannel pj’s would help. So I gave her the number and the size and then it came down to color..Blue MacKellar or Grey Stewart. I couldn’t decide, I think the Blue is prettier but for some reason I do not understand, I say “Grey Stewart,, please send the Grey Stewart.” Not sure why, as I generally prefer blue.

So I order the pj’s and go into my closet and right there in front of me is Dad’s Grey Stewart flannel nightgown. It didn’t even occur to me that I had it. (I’ve been carrying around some of his clothes hoping to have a quilt made from the material).

I don’t even know why we still had it – especially after he and mom had lived in Florida for so long, There’s no flannel in Florida right? But I think we all had memories of some of the clothes he wore that made us “remember that time when…” that we just kept a lot of them.

They arrived the other day and feel wonderful and toasty on this cold, rainy night in New Hampshire. Thanks Dad (in the picture – his is the worn one in the bottom of the photo). Gotta just love LLBean.



A few days ago, one of my Facebook buds, Gail, submitted a post about cancer on her Facebook page. I’ve been thinking about it since I saw it.

This past weekend, I decided to stay home instead of driving to Middletown to see mom. But as I was hanging out, I thought about how beautiful it was to be back in New England in the Fall. So I grabbed my camera and started driving and ended up at Killington, on the Gondola looking out of the window at the foliage and the mountain bikers tackling the trails. It was weird to be there in the Fall with no snow on the ground. But then I looked down and saw this (photo).

This is the top of Cascade – my all time favorite ski trail which I love because of the trail’s long and very steep pitch. I used to ski it all the time with my uncle whom, along with my aunt Karen, taught ski school in their 60’s. At that time, My uncle Walt had this thing for “jetstix” – those hard plastic things you could attach to your boots to be able to sit back on your skis. He would fly ahead of me doing turn after turn and usually end up at the bottom of the trail before I would… about 10 minutes later. He skied on shorter skis and would rag on me about my unwillingness to give up my 195’s. And – because the moguls were cut by smaller sized skis, I would fall frequently – and a fall on cascade just went on forever because there was that pitch and not a lot of flat surfaces to land. It was always a very fun and amazing time skiing with him – even given the bruises from falling so far for so long.

Sitting there on the gondola looking down at the fall line, it was hard not to get emotional as I miss him and those times we spent skiing. So I sent the short text and photo to Karen, my aunt, who is in Maine and we have since reminisced about those great memories.

Walt lost his battle with cancer several years ago and in a few weeks, it will be 3 years since Dad lost his. These great memories of skiing with Walt and with my mom and dad came back full force when I looked out the window and saw the black Cascade trail sign.

And the more I thought about these memories and the strength and endurance that both Dad and Walt had in fighting their illnesses, the more I realized where part of that strength and endurance came from – a long, steep, snowy mountain trail on a beautiful afternoon in Vermont, skiing, laughing, and spending time with the people you love the most.

Ella (Poetry)

Ebb & Flow


My favorite photo of mom and dad taken just before their evening at the Newport Hospital Ball many years ago. Today would have been their 63rd wedding anniversary (dad died in October after their 60th). We still laugh daily about some of the things he used to say.

My favorite is still the way he would say “oh jeez…that guy!” whenever we were on the boat in Block Island and Aldo would be out in his boat early in the morning with his fresh baked muffins and doughnuts. He’d be singing at the top of his lungs . “Andiamo…andiamoooohhh!!”…which because of the way voices carry when you’re on the water, would wake dad up. But there was normally about a three second delay before I would hear “oh jeez…that guy” in his tired, exasperated tone.

Mom’s favorite was the morning she saw the ad for a calico kitten while reading the classifieds in the newspaper here in florida. She read the classified to him and asked “do you wanna go look at a cat?”

“No, not especially” he said “but I will if you want me to.” (He was cool like that – also a sitting duck whenever it came to anything having to do with cute kittens in our family).

“How much?” He asked my mom.

“A hundred dollars” she answered. (insert long paws here).. and then he said “you shouldn’t have to pay for cats, people should GIVE you cats..” (it was a little variation from a few years before that when he had said “you shouldn’t have to pay for cats; people should PAY YOU to take them from them.” .. at least he was steadily evolving).

Needless to say – the Calico came home with them and “Callie” became his cat. It was like she knew he had this opinion of kittens and carried her little “yer gonna love me!” catitude throughout the 6 years she has been with us. – She was lying next to him all afternoon on the day he died.

I’ve always wondered about (and admired) the components in a relationship that keep people together for fifty and sixty years. Lately we’ve been watching a lot of Fixer Upper on HGTV. Whenever mom sees Chip’s crazy antics my mom sort of scoffs and says “I could never be married to him.” – but what she doesn’t seem to realize is that the “balance” in Chip and Joanna’s relationship is extremely similar to mom and dad’s – the way they compliment each other because of the skills they both have that the other one may not and the way that they seem to ebb and flow into one another.

To me, that is what makes a great relationship.

Happy anniversary kids! – and to all of my Facebook buds who make great relationships work.

What’s Most Important

This afternoon, I looked at the clock on my nightstand to see what time it was; my brief afternoon siesta had come to an end.

Then I really looked at what was on my nightstand: a clock given to me as a 5 year anniversary gift at a hospital where I had worked. A watch – given to me by the emergency department team from the same hospital when I left. – I remembered the charge nurse in the Pediatric ER saying “I remembered you said you love a white watch face and Roman numerals”  – it was perfect.

As I have gotten older, I realize that time is the most important thing – money is fun, but having the time to spend with family and great friends is critical.

Two iPods – one to take over while the other is recharging. And speakers that can connect directly to the iPods. You don’t need a “boom box” or a ginormous stereo system, just a great set of speakers and music, audiobooks or podcasts that you love.

My glasses are on top of the iPad that was sent to me at no cost from Verizon, my wireless carrier. Apparently when you are a long term customer, as I have been, they send you free stuff. Who doesn’t love free?

So as I spend time listening to great music and using my iPad to navigate my next career path, it occurs to me that I have also been lucky to have worked at some wonderful hospitals with some really great teams. Quite the rewarding way to spend quality time.

A Year, A Memory

This afternoon my mom asked me what time it was. I told her it was “almost noon” and she responded “time for Kate Smith!”

Usually when this happens, I know what year we’re in – but not this time and not this year.

See the Wave, Be the Wave: The Ebb and Flow of Life, Love & Loss

This was taken 3 years ago on the beach – Anna Maria Island, Fl. – my last Vacation before moving to Florida full time. It’s very strange when your life just stops as mine has; kind of like a full control / alt / delete reboot that makes me think I can predict and navigate my life. But when you add wind and waves (and currents and tides), navigating anything isn’t always easy.

“See the wave, be the wave” – right now this is my coping strategy; going with the ebb and flow of whatever comes my way.

My position at the hospital where I worked was eliminated.  I quickly started looking for another career endeavor but after a month or two of not being successful, my mom called and asked me to come to Florida to help care for my dad who had been battling cancer and other autoimmune illnesses for the last several years.  I agreed and, with the help of very good friends, placed every thing I had in storage and left for Florida a few days later.

I was here for three weeks before dad died, upending our little family.

As he had been sick for quite awhile, we knew this day would come. But here’s the thing: even when you know in your heart that autoimmune illnesses do not end well, death is not easy to prepare for. Thankfully, we had a great hospice team and a lot of faith – which did not let us down.

After dad’s death came the transition of “mom and dad” to just “mom” – and all of the paperwork and changes that go with it.  Slowly – very, very slowly, our lives fell into a routine that became more manageable over time.

And, over time I noticed that Scott, our outdoor lawn and pest guy would start talking to me more frequently about our overly dry lawn. As I still had a little anxiety about trying to keep up with things that Dad used to take care of, I drove to Ace and picked up a nice sprinkler and started doing what I could to keep our lawn green, then slowly worked with him to fix our watering system.

A few months turned into a year, and my life had transcended from helping suicidal, anxious, depressed and / or addicted patients in our very busy ER to strategizing the repair, pressure and “zones” of our watering system and hanging orchids in baskets from the trees in the back of the house so that they could grow better outside and get watered naturally.

I thought there was no hope to ever see things grow – let alone be green again, but in the ebb and flow of our lives, we developed a routine and after awhile (a long while), the green grass returned and our orchids bloomed. I was totally shocked at how beautiful they were and how they seemed to blossom overnight.

Seeing their beauty took me further away from the grief I felt and the overwhelming emotions that accompanied the life changes that have continued to evolve.

In addition to that was having to let my twenty year career in emergency psych go as I realized that staying with it would not work as it would blanket the grief and emotions I felt and the healing that needed to follow. But letting go of this part of my career also meant letting go of all of the patients and families I had met and the many insights and lessons that accompanied them.  It’s not that I would forget them – because you don’t / can’t forget the immense experiences and challenges that patients face every day.

And you don’t forget the surpise of your Emergency Department colleagues when they ask if you really think a 5 y/o patient can be suicidal with a plan to kill himself with a gun that he says he has access to or the 8 y/o who tells you she doesn’t want to go to school because she’s afraid the same terrorist group that flew planes into the World Trade Center and Pentagon are going to come for her family so she would rather stay with them instead of go to school. You don’t forget the teenager coming into the ER who overdosed on pills after being bullied at school because she was gay – and who now needed the understanding and support of her mom who was holding her hand and crying having just listened to her disclose her emotional pain.

You don’t forget patients coming into the ER talking to you about wanting help for drugs and then dying in front of you minutes later.

Patient after patient, day after day, month after month, year after year for twenty five years, you learn life is short and very fragile – and that there’s an ebb and flow to it. You learn that the more grounded and congruent you are, the easier it will be to navigate all of it.

But then everything comes to a full stop, as it has with my career. And suddenly I’m looking at beatiful orchids blooming, a nice green lawn and feeling the warm sun on my back as I pull the weeds from the flower beds and I realize this is what dad used to do; which makes me miss him more while at the same time wanting to make everything better and more beautiful in celebration of the legacy he has left for us.

There is an ebb and flow to life.

“Everyone Deserves Love”

Yesterday I read a Facebook comment from a friend of mine that has stuck me with because of its poignancy:  “It’s easy to tear down, to hate, to refuse. Much harder to build up, support, look for the good in unfortunate situations. Everyone deserves love.” – Dr. LA Morrison

Let’s Just Think…

Welcome to the “Let’s Just Think” blog!

As a child growing up, whenever I would get stuck with trying to resolve an issue or challenge, my mom would say “Now let’s just think…” and together we would weigh the pros and cons of finding a resolution.

Over time, her “Let’s Just Think” comment became a mantra that was used frequently; and yes, there were also times when it was the punchline for a funny story or memory. But it always had a moment of clarity or insightful resolution as well.

Worthy of a blog and worthy of inspiring stories or quotes to accentuate the positivity of life, the insights from experiences and the wisdom we all gain every day.

Here we go!

Breathe Out Anger; Breathe In Faith

This is my favorite bench overlooking the intercostal waterway near Sarasota, Florida.

If you’re like me, sometimes stress can get to you. Without warning you may feel tense, frustrated, hopeless, angry, resentful…like an internal bomb is about to go off and you’re not sure why, what caused it, and what the best coping strategy is.

My recommendation, is to find a bench like this one and start with the basics. 

Figure out which emotions you need to let go of; and the positive emotions you would like to replace them with. Like all things, there is an ebb and flow to life; this is true in this situation as well. Here’s the other thing – only you know how to navigate the ebb and flow of you feel.

Only you know what emotions you need to let go of; and which are the best ones to “take in”. AND – take them in, don’t just say them, FEEL them. Life is short, there’s no time to fool yourself or diminish your potential.

Here are just a few suggestions you may want to consider:

  • Breathe out anger; breathe in calmness
  • Breathe out frustration; breathe in serenity
  • Breathe out fear; breathe in faith
  • Breathe out self-centeredness; breathe in love
  • Breathe out shame; breathe in hope
  • Breathe out sadness; breathe in joy
  • Breathe out pain (no matter what type it is); breathe in strength
  • Breathe out vindictiveness; breathe in compassion
  • Breathe out loneliness; breathe in trust
  • Breathe out turbulence; breathe in contentment

Most importantly just breathe, take the time you need to redirect your emotions and your thoughts to make them work for you instead of against you and, most importantly, remember it’ll all be okay.