The Season That Teaches Us to Trust the Process
Trust the process. I’ve heard that sentence used to dismiss more real pain than almost any other four words in my line of work, and I’ve also watched it be…
Trust the process. I’ve heard that sentence used to dismiss more real pain than almost any other four words in my line of work, and I’ve also watched it be…
Let me get the annoying part out of the way first. When a mature tree comes down in a woods, light hits the forest floor for the first time in…
A woman sat in my office last fall and gave me a list. Marriage in trouble. Quit a job she’d had eleven years. Hadn’t been to church since June. Kids…
I learned something a few years back that rearranged how I talk about boundaries, and it came from a forestry page I was reading for no good reason at eleven…
A hardwood puts a serious amount of its life underground. Root systems that spread wider than the canopy, working down through clay and rock, most of it happening in the…
Farmers around here will tell you a field in November looks like nothing. Stubble and mud. Drive past it at dusk and you’d swear the whole thing died. Underneath, there’s…
There’s a thing that happens in therapy that used to catch me off guard when I was new. Somebody comes in month after month, working hard, doing the reading, sitting…
I want to start by defending the thing you’re about to let go of, because nobody else will. The people-pleasing kept you safe in a house where somebody’s mood determined…
When somebody dies, we know what to do. There’s a visitation, there’s food on the counter you didn’t ask for, there’s a line of people at the funeral home saying…
There’s a stretch of road out past my house where the trees meet overhead all summer. Green tunnel, all of it. Then, when fall comes, it’s a skeleton. You can…
Here is a piece of grade school science that changed how I see the fall coming. Leaves do not turn colors. Not really. The yellows and the oranges were in…
Here is a contradiction nobody names out loud, and once you see it you cannot unsee it. The natural world spends September downshifting. Days shorten, sap withdraws, animals slow down…
I put the garden up every September, and every year there is a strange minute in the middle of it. I stand there with the tomato cages in my arms,…
The first cool morning always catches me off guard. You step out for the paper or to start the car. You notice that the air has changed overnight, and you…
There is a week in western Kentucky, usually somewhere in the middle of September, when you can feel the whole county exhale. The air changes before the calendar does. The…
I had a client tell me once that she felt like a hallway. Everybody walked through her to get somewhere else. However, nobody stopped to see what was on the…
A woman sat in my office a while back at the good end of hard work. Years of it. She had stopped bracing when doors shut. This woman could say…
A client of mine, years into good, brave work, hit a hard anniversary and spent a weekend flat on the mat. Old symptoms, old thoughts, the works. She came in…
Here is a pattern I see all the time, and it breaks my heart a little every time I see it. Somebody does real healing work. Therapy, tools, tears, the…
Refuge. Fortress. Strong tower. Hiding place. Shelter under His wings. A very present help in trouble. Line those words up and notice what they have in common. When the writers…