Category Archives: Community

Community, Connecting

Mindfulness, Reimagined In Cancun

Leave a comment

I’ve always carried a bit of judgment around mindfulness.
Whenever people talked about “being mindful,” I heard be calm, peaceful, more zen-like. My old story, that i was too loud, too much, too reactive – so should be more mindful. So I wasn’t as excited about mindfulness as many others.

That changed.

At a recent Dr. Joe Dispenza retreat, I had the privilege of hearing Ellen Langer—the pioneer of mindfulness research and the force behind so much of our modern interest in it. She completely rocked my understanding.

First, she defined mindfulness in the simplest, most liberating way:
mindful = not mindless.
Not checked out. Not running predictable habits. Not assuming.
But questioning, noticing, and being awake in the moment.

Then she introduced another shift that landed deeply for me:
mind–body unity, not mind–body connection.

That one word—unity—changes everything.

The old framing is still dualistic: mind and body, as if one leads and the other follows. Work on the body. Then work on the mind. As if they’re two separate systems talking across a gap.

Mind–body unity aligns with what I’ve believed and taught for years:
consciousness is both energy and matter, always.
We are physical and energetic—thought and heart, sensation and meaning—an integrated field expressing itself through form.

Ellen shared stories that reminded me of the many people in my own life who’ve taught me versions of these lessons. One example stuck hard:

Two people take an IQ test. One scores a 70. One scores a 69.
The 69 is labeled “cognitively impaired.”
The 70 is not. And that one point—one tiny point—shapes entirely different life paths.

That’s the power of language. Labels. Meaning.
How we name things becomes how we live them.

And this brings me back to Me + We.

We aren’t isolated parts trying to become whole.
We are wholeness in every part—each individual an expression of a deeper, unified field.
Me lives inside We.
We lives inside Me.

And here’s the real clincher: we have choice.

Mindfulness—true mindfulness—is not about being calm or zen.
It’s about remembering that in any moment, we get to choose how we engage.

Choice in how we see.
Choice in how we respond.
Choice in how we influence the living matrix we’re part of.

We are not victims of our wiring, our history, or even our wholeness.
Wholeness isn’t a fixed state—it’s a field.
A shimmering, responsive, alive field that changes the moment awareness touches it.

When we meet this moment without judgment—
with heart, curiosity, and presence—
the field reorganizes.
The energy moves.
Possibility opens.

This, to me, is mindfulness:
Not managing yourself into stillness,
but entering life awake enough to influence the field you are part of.
Me affecting We.
We informing Me.
Wholeness alive in every part, reshaped through presence.

That’s the power.
That’s the invitation—
in any moment, with whatever stands in front of you.

Communication, Community, Connecting, Life Experiences

From Scroll To Soul

I find myself struggling in this moment. I want to be productive—yet I don’t know what to work on.

Here’s the possible To Do List:

There’s the garden; I could go out and pull up weeds, harvest what’s ready.
I could go for a bike ride—it’s beautiful outside.
I could read. I could write.
I could even reach out to the folks I’ll be leading with later this month to start building our connection.

Indeed, there is much I could do.

And yet, here I sit. Scrolling, then thinking. Scrolling, then thinking.

Recently, in an intuitive session, I was told something that stuck with me:
Maybe I don’t need to be “creating opportunities.” Maybe I need to let them evolve. In my business, when I push to “make it happen,” I may be missing what’s already right in front of me.

That message echoed during our Find Your Mojo in Montana weekend. On the final morning, we went out to the pasture together. Each woman was asked to connect with a horse and bring them back to the arena.

Of course, in my mind, the “real” work would happen once we were back in the arena. So I charged ahead, intent on finding the herd.

But Bobbi, who owns and lives on the ranch, reminded us to slow down.
Not to beeline to a horse. Not to treat them like a task to complete. Horses sense us long before we reach them, and it matters how we enter their world. To notice. To listen. To respect the herd before engaging.

That moment stays with me.

So often, purpose on a given day looks like a to-do list:

  • Go to the store.
  • Walk the dogs.
  • Write the blog post.

The focus is on getting it done. Which means I miss the trees swaying overhead, the sound of paws on leaves, or the spark of an unexpected idea.

What if I didn’t narrow in on just the task or the outcome?
What if I stayed present in the unfolding of the moment—curious about what else might want to emerge?

Writing is much the same for me. It takes time to settle. I’ll meander—scrolling Facebook, reading a few pages of a book, playing music, even bouncing on the trampoline. Back and forth I go—writing a bit, wandering away, then circling back.

And then, at some point, something shifts. I drop into a current. The words begin to flow. My focus narrows, not in a forced way, but like sliding into a slipstream.

I’ve learned to appreciate both—the wandering off-road and the ease of finally being carried by the current.

Maybe that’s the real invitation:
To trust the meandering.
To let go of forcing productivity.
And to remember that sometimes the most important thing is already happening—if I just stay present enough to notice.

Community, Connecting, Connection, Life Experiences

The Heart of The Haven: Grief, Growth, and The Power of Connection

Over the forty-plus years I’ve been involved with The Haven, countless people have become woven into the fabric of my life. Many of them for decades. Some are still here, though too many are now gone—some far too young, some older, and some who simply seemed to complete with what they came to do on this earth. When I pause, the grief of those losses still rolls through me.

And then there are others—the ones who are alive but no longer return to The Haven. I don’t always know why. For me, every time I’ve come back—whether to lead, to participate, or simply to reconnect—I’ve found nourishment and meaning. Yet, for some, that return no longer calls them.

The Haven itself is in an evolutionary process. Things change—and they need to. Still, I hold deep belief in the core programs, especially Come Alive. It is a rare and beautiful invitation to wake up to ourselves, to one another, and to life. I also believe in the training process that helps people grow into facilitators of deep connection—learning to relate, collaborate, and create across differences of culture, background, and experience. That work is transformative, and it matters.

But I also recognize that it may not be enough, on its own, to sustain The Haven as it has been. Others will have their own visions of what needs to emerge. At our recent faculty meeting, I loved hearing our new Executive Director speak of the “miracle moments” that have unfolded on that small piece of land. It’s true. So many miracles have happened there. And yet, the miracles didn’t stay confined to Gabriola. They traveled outward—carried by all of us—into families, workplaces, communities, and the wider world.

I now find myself part of many communities: Dr. Joe’s circle of coherent healers and advanced meditators, a Course in Miracles group, the Herd for Equus Coaching community, and many more. Some gather in large numbers, some only online, some with connections that ebb and flow. Yet all remain in my heart, part of my resonance field.

What I notice is this: the communities that nourish me most are the ones that hold space for difference, where connection matters more than credentials. At the same time, I’ve come to appreciate that every community needs some structure or resource to sustain itself—whether through credentials, program fees, or gatherings that draw people together. Without that, even the most meaningful communities can fade.

The Haven has always been, at its heart, about people daring to be real with one another. That feels as needed today as it ever was. What shape it needs to take going forward—that is still unfolding.

I too, am unfolding and evolving. Next up for me: Find Your Mojo in Montana and we are bringing back after some time away with some new vibrations. It’s a great combination of Haven and Equus . Join us in October!

Here’s a little taste: