Category Archives: Leadership

Communication, Connecting, Connection, Leadership, Life Experiences

When Old Patterns Pull You Back

There are endless programs, methods, and strategies for shifting from a victim mindset to one of growth. They’ve been around for decades—I know because I’ve been working on that shift for over 40 years. And it has truly been life-changing.

But here’s the thing: I still get caught in spirals. The crises may not feel as dire as they once did, but that almost makes it harder. Without the proverbial 2-by-4 of life smacking me, it’s easy to stay stuck in discomfort instead of pushing for change.

Maybe it’s a lack of steady clients or income. Maybe it’s tight jeans, restless nights, or feeling stiffer and less flexible. Little discomforts pile up until they feel like a wall.

And then, bigger waves hit—like elections. I want dialogue, exploration, connection. Instead, I often find polarization, fear, and attacks. There are glimpses of deeper conversations, but not enough to break the storm.

Post-election, messages pour in urging people to fight, resist, battle. And while I understand that drive, it’s all too familiar to me. Fear and rage, blame and combat—they’re paths I know well, but they aren’t where I want to go.

Here’s what I’ve been sitting with: We’re in a river of change and uncertainty. It’s bigger than any one election or person. I look at the government now and see a massive shake-up. Where it leads—democracy, autocracy, something else entirely—I don’t know.

But fear? That’s a choice. So is fighting.

What feels like a real change for me is staying present. Staying here. Meeting my community—neighbors, friends, strangers—with curiosity and care. It’s like stepping out after a storm, checking who’s okay, seeing where we stand.

These moments can forge deep connections if we let them. I want to meet them with vision, not old survival patterns. And yet, I feel that familiar pull: to blame, to rage, to scream. I catch myself in it. I take a breath.

Yes, we elected a bully. A liar. It’s infuriating.

And yet—stop. Breathe.

What if something can come out of this?

I think back to when my doctors told me there were no options left for me. That was a wake-up call. This moment feels like another quake. It’s clear now: the government—just like the medical system—isn’t going to fix me, my community, or our unique challenges. Systems don’t do that. People do.

Maybe I thought we were ready for big, systemic change. But real transformation isn’t something we demand and wait for. It starts in the daily work, the unglamorous trenches of our own lives.

Change means living more in the unknown than the familiar. It means choosing the present moment over old, comfortable patterns. It means staying open-hearted even when fear tries to take over.

So that’s the work: not on grand systems, but in my own day-to-day. Let me meet this moment with courage. Let me have the heart to do the work.

Communication, Connecting, Connection, Leadership, Vulnerability

Waiting For Grace

I don’t know.

I am in an unknown space between the lessons I thought I learned from the past and the stories I made up about the future I wanted.

My stories spook me about what lies ahead.  I don’t think that is helpful.  Because , I don’t know.

Years ago, my medical team gave me a very terrifying outcome.   Death in three to six months.  It’s been almost forty years.  I am still here.

Not because I got rid cancer.  I just decided it wasn’t going to be my focus.  I wanted relationships and living.  Not dying.

Let’s face it, we are all going to die.  At least this body, or vessel is, and it isn’t what defines us.  Our soul.  Our spirit.  Our consciousness.   Our connections. That is our legacy.

I know that and sometimes I still get wonky about an agenda I have.  Like my desire for equality.  My wish that we’d have a woman, President.  My desire not to elect a bully or be the bully. My wish that if I had unlimited resources, I’d pass them on and share the wealth.  That if someone was terrified, I would have the courage to see through the fight and hold a space and shine a light.

I’m still in this shell of flesh and bones. My own created box of stories, beliefs, values and experiences, walls that need to be cracked.

This election did that. 

I don’t like the results.  I can scare myself with the President-elect.  But I don’t want to keep living on fear and fight.

My cancer (s) taught me to be relational and not a victim to old stories.

I feel as though in some ways the cancer is back unless I can listen and be curious and creative instead of hateful and enraged.

Let me bigger than myself.  My ego. My story.

Let me be a fractal that simply keeps surrendering to the unknown and showing up with light shining through.

I may be more reflective and silent for a few days.

I recall Maya Angelou being silent for eight years so she could her find her voice. (and she did)

I don’t anticipate eight years AND I want to hold until I have the capacity to awaken down.  Waking to the wails, the fears, the pain and allow grace to rise and walk me forward. 

Beyond the duality of parties and politics.

I will wait before I judge.

Connecting, Leadership, Uncategorized, Valuing Differences, Vision

Why Kamala Harris Should Lead

As November 5 approaches, I find myself strongly hoping to see Kamala Harris become President. It’s not just about my fear of another Trump presidency, though I am genuinely terrified of that. More than that, I believe Kamala Harris is the right leader for this moment.

I understand that my thoughts might not change the outcome or influence decisions already made. But writing is how I process the emotions swirling within me during this time of uncertainty and angst.

Many people acknowledge Trump’s flaws but defend him on policy grounds, arguing he’s been good for the economy. Others doubt Kamala’s readiness or feel she’s too tied to Joe Biden. I disagree with both perspectives.

Kamala Harris doesn’t claim to have all the answers or push for blind agreement from those around her. Her understanding of leadership isn’t rooted in domination or control. True leaders in a democracy don’t impose their will—they collaborate, listen, learn, and connect. That’s what Kamala Harris has demonstrated.

Since stepping into the role, she’s shown her ability to rise to the occasion. She’s raised money, rallied people, faced tough questions, and listened. In my experience working with business leaders, I’ve seen that it’s not the smartest or most domineering ones who make organizations thrive—it’s those who understand how to manage differences, value their team’s input, and recognize both strengths and weaknesses. Great leaders know when to admit mistakes and make changes.

I don’t see that in Donald Trump. His lack of humility and accountability, combined with a seeming disinterest in people outside of his circle—especially those who aren’t wealthy, male, or white—is deeply concerning. While I might not fully understand him, his behavior signals a self-centeredness and a fear of failure so profound that he can’t admit any shortcomings, which is frightening to me.

Kamala Harris, on the other hand, has shown that she’s the better leader and, frankly, the better person. I trust that, when it comes to policy and making important decisions, she’ll surround herself with capable, smart individuals whom she will listen to and trust. That’s the kind of leadership we need—not just from a Democrat or a Republican—but from a leader of all people.

Communication, Connection, Leadership, Vulnerability

Beyond the Instinct to Attack: Embracing Choice

Attack mode seems to be everywhere these days. Why is that?

The usual explanations: “They started it” or “I had to defend myself.” Maybe. But let’s be honest—we’ve drifted far from the ideals of kindness or turning the other cheek.

I’m not here to recount biblical stories about how Jesus handled things. Those have been quoted and misquoted so much that if Jesus were still in the grave, he’d be rolling over by now.

Instead, I’d rather look at more recent figures like Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, Peace Pilgrim, or Pema Chödrön—people who truly understood that nonviolence is a choice. Violence is a choice too. It’s up to us, and it’s never easy. Our decisions reflect the internal struggle of perception, interpretation, and emotion.

Nelson Mandela once said, “For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” We’re pretty good at enhancing our own freedom, but respecting and enhancing the freedom of others? That’s where we fall short.

It’s always easier to make the other side wrong. But the danger in blaming others isn’t necessarily that they don’t bear some responsibility. The real issue is that blame often blinds us to the role we play. Judging others isn’t the problem—our judgments can be creative or insightful. The issue is that we often don’t fully own the story we’re creating. We project it onto others and convince ourselves that it’s their problem, not ours.

What if our judgments are primarily, if not entirely, our own creation? If we truly grasp that, we can make better choices about whether to attack or not. When I realize that I’m the creator of my interpretation, I gain power over how I respond. If I perceive an attack or a threat, I can pause and reassess.

Take Michelle Obama’s famous line, “When they go low, we go high.” I see that as her response to perceived attacks. She steps back, views the situation from a different, higher perspective, where more possibilities emerge.

It’s natural to feel the instinct to attack or withdraw when faced with danger. But our minds, for better or worse, go beyond pure instinct. That’s the downside of being so analytical—we think we can interpret reality with precision. And often, in our attempts to do so, we make a mess. Or worse, we create war.

Communication, Connecting, Leadership, Valuing Differences, Vision

Bridging the Divide: The Power of Honest Conversations in Montana

What a week it’s been, and I was only watching from home! The energy, joy, and revitalized spirit of the Democratic Party in Chicago was palpable, even here in Montana.

I capped off the week on Sunday by attending The Blue Jam, a local event supporting Democratic candidates in the Flathead Valley. The vibe was infectious—speeches that were raw, real, and personal, with candidates sharing their reasons for running. No flashy rhetoric or attacks, just genuine conversations. Although the turnout seemed small, I later learned it was the largest gathering of its kind in the area for quite some time.

Love this song played at The Blue Jam here in Montana

Living in a predominantly red state like Montana, I didn’t expect such enthusiasm. Yet, the Democratic message from the National Convention resonated with me:

  • Public education for all
  • Affordable and accessible healthcare, including Medicare
  • The right to autonomy in healthcare decisions
  • A nation where hard work leads to a decent wage, homeownership, and a family-friendly life
  • Protecting LGBTQ+ rights

These ideals felt more aligned with Montana’s values than what I’d seen at the Republican Convention a few weeks earlier.

So, why is Montana such a strong red state? Personally, I lean towards a more “purple” approach—less about parties and more about people. I believe the issue lies in how we consume information: micro sound bites that polarize rather than foster meaningful dialogue.

At The Blue Jam, I repeatedly heard that when candidates take the time to connect with voters, even lifelong Republicans are open to voting for a Democrat—not because of party allegiance, but because of the genuine conversations.

This experience reinforced my belief in the importance of creating more opportunities for dialogue and connection. It’s not just about saving democracy; it’s essential for our collective well-being.

I want to understand why so many of my neighbors support a Trump/Vance ticket. I want to discuss public lands, healthcare, housing, wages, and education—not through the lens of political rivalry, but through real, honest conversations.

I realize that labels and assumptions—like associating a Confederate flag with racism or dismissing liberals as “taking over”—oversimplify complex realities. These snap judgments, while they may hold a grain of truth, do more harm than good.

It’s easier to hurl an attack than to engage in a curious, vulnerable dialogue. I’ve been advised not to display signs for my preferred candidates due to potential risks. Many avoid political discussions altogether, whether at home, work, or among friends. I even heard about a study from Harvard where students fear speaking their minds.

This is not healthy for our society.

We need to get back to talking with one another, understanding each other’s perspectives, and finding common ground. Only then can we truly move forward.

Join me at my next “Dialoguing for Democracy” event, Thursday, September 5th at 7PM MT, and let’s start creating healthier, more connected communities.

Communication, Connecting, Leadership, Vulnerability

My Letter to Joe Biden

Dear Joe

I know you have a lot on your mind and that you are getting a great deal of pressure from many colleagues and follow politicians regarding what you should or shouldn’t do.

My voice is not likely to be one you will hear with all the noice.  But I still wanted to write.

I don’t have the answer.  You’ve been an okay President with a lot of stuff to deal with and honestly, I would never sign up for your job.

However, I don’t think you are dealing with this current situation very well. You seem very defiant and defensive about that horrible debate night.

People have concerns and most of us don’t really want to hear you say this isn’t going to be a problem.

It is a problem.  You are 81.  You show some signs of cognitive decline.  People working for you say you are good between 10AM and 4PM but you have a job that demands a lot longer hours.

I’m not saying you can’t be President.  But deal with your situation and address people’s concerns. 

You have always seemed like someone who is willing to have difficult conversations and talk across the table.  But you aren’t doing that in this situation.  At least not for the public to see and be a part of.  You seem hell bent on running.  At least dialogue and talk about the pros and cons. 

I am not sure I could ‘not vote for you’ because the alternative is a felon and that really is just wrong in my view.

But our country should have a better choice than an aging man in denial or a felon.

This isn’t all on you.  Shame on us for getting to this point.  We call ourselves a democracy, but we have been showing some serious cracks in that reality for a while now.

Still, you say your campaign is about saving democracy.  I think if that’s your platform you need to start listening to people and having the difficult conversations.  Talking about the concerns and addressing them.

It’s true, the people might want you to step down, but at least in listening and talking  with people openly, you are practicing democracy.

I think that shows courage and vulnerability.  Both things, I have at times seen in you.

Show up with that now.  Please don’t wait until is too late.

If democracy is going to be saved it isn’t about what happens in November but what we start doing now as people to demonstrate respect in the power and opinion of all people, not just our people, or politicians, or plays for power. 

We need to talk, listen and get real.  Otherwise, democracy is lost.

I don’t need you to write, but I do sure wish you would show up and be real.  

Susan

Connecting, Leadership, Life Experiences, Vulnerability

A Good Run For My Heart

It’s been quite a run. Yet very little running was done.

Between May to now has been filled with leading Haven programs, Couples Alive, Come Alive and a special offering for Women in the First Nations community, combining their wisdom with some of the Haven essence.

Usually when I am leading, running is my path for balancing and clearing my energy. I believe it helps me stay connected to my heart. This month taught me there’s other ways and maybe better ways for open-hearted leading.

For me personally, this run has been amazing. Up north the team included my dear friend and colleague, Leona Gallant. We go way back. We worked together at Tillicum Haus teaching the Addiction and Family Violence programs. It was wonderful reconnecting for the First Nations women week.

Our trip didn’t go quite as planned and each day offered opportunities to surrender my ideas of how the program would unfold and go totally in the moment with who was present. There was a lot happening within the community, as well, smoke from wild fires, that made for a heaviness in my chest and lungs. However, each member of the team was committed and the women who came bought their hearts, tears, anger and stories forward in ways that lifted each of us and ended in beautiful moment of creating on canvas.

The Team Tracy, Me, Leona and Christina

Home again, I found I wasn’t able to do my normal running and exercising, my lungs just wouldn’t allow for that effort. The goodness in that may have been finding other ways to connect and balance my body, heart and mind before leaving for a couples weeks at the Haven.

Couples Alive came first. It was a wonderful experience. The team included Bob and Ruth, dear friends and long-time Haven faculty. They shared they hadn’t been up on the island for a number of years and it was awesome to have them back, sharing the wisdom from their relating.

I loved the dance of leading with CrisMarie. We learn and grow as we lead. It’s a definite experience of giving and receiving with the team and the couples who share so deeply.

Beautiful sunset last night of Couples Alive

Then Come Alive. Always a special experience, as it was the first program I took at the Haven and started my transformation in relating and responding.

There were moments again where things didn’t go quite as planned. However, that’s a big part of what I love about leading at Haven. I have to both lead and surrender. It’s an amazing dance between being in a role and being real and human.

The team with me was wonderful. As always we were doing our work to ensure we could stay present and support building and holding a space for self-responding and relational learning.

In the end, I left full from my time on the island. This time not as exhausted as I have at times been in the past. Maybe because i wasn’t running to settle my energy. Instead I found myself sitting, silent, walking and relating between sessions. Something to consider even as my lungs return to a more happy place.

Taking the stage as. Leadership Flathead Graduation Speaker

My reentry this time involved being the speaker for Leadership Flathead graduating class. It was an honor to be invited and I said yes just before starting my run. Wasn’t able to plan a thing until I returned home just in time to put it together. Again something I’d usually run or ride to get clarity before writing but this time I sat, I reflected and when I got a clear message I made some notes. I was vulerable and nervous but it worked for me. I just needed to get out of my ego space and into heart and that always works – living, leading or speaking.

I don’t doubt I’ll be back on my bike and taking runs in the woods. However, I want to remember that my body doesn’t need to be fit, trim and over-exercised to be a vessel for the work I am called to do. That work comes from the heart and heart health is more relational and real than looking good and making my MOVE goal.

Now relaxing after a cool evening bike ride! with my honey!

Communication, Connecting, Leadership

Come Alive

Downtown HarborAir Terminal

Sitting at The HarborAir terminal downtown Vancouver waiting for my flight to Nainamo.  Heading over to Gabriola for a Come Alive followed by a Couples Alive.

I bought along my copy of Being, Ben and Jock’s book edited by Toby.  It’s still a great read and much like Come Alive so relevant to living, loving and being on this human journey.

I am partially reading it now because I am the primary leader for this Come Alive and though I have an incrediable team around me, I feel somewhat responsible for ensuring I am grounded in the models and able to teach the foundational pieces that make this program great.

Over the years, I have led with grit, with force, with my own agenda and counted on my co-leader to make sure I didn’t get to caught up in standing out or being too rigid.

For those unfamiliar with the term standing out, I’d say it falls into the category of trying to achieve, be perfect, lead from the front or just a role.

Sometimes that’s might be needed but usually leading involves standing forth. Coming from an inner strength and knowing, the right mix of being personal, real and relational while also providing some structure and confidence in the path set forth.

So I’m reading Being. As I read, I am feeling warmth and gratitude for Ben, Jock, Joann, and the many, many mentors and friends who have been a big part of my own journey.

I’m also reading through our recent scripts for The Beauty of Conflict because that too is a translation of the learning that I believe has ensured my on-going commitment to aliveness, intimacy and relationship.

So I wait for my seaplane and reflect. I watch the various clouds passing – from threatening storms to fluffy white puffy bubbles.

I am reminded of Ben’s story of the train station. How often people wait for the ‘right’train, assuming that they’ll somehow know when that ‘right’ train arrives. Sadly they often waste time waiting and miss getting on a train.

That’s kind how I feel about Come Alives – I signed up for this one and I am already fully on the train (well planes in this case). Enjoying the journey and discovering as I go who will be joining me for the ride.

As I take my journey I am aware of various moments from the many, many, many Come Alives I have taken – all the way back to the one I stepped into with my sister, Penny, over 30 plus years ago. All amazing and all hold a piece of the trapestry of me I’ll bring to leading this one.

Should be a blast.

Connecting, Connection, Leadership, Life Experiences

We Are All In This Together – Right? Right!

We’re In This Together

This has been a rallying cry for me since we stepped into Shelter-In-Place here in Montana and agreed to support the flattening of the curve. 

During this time period, though distant, I have felt close with various parts of the country, geographically scattered members of my family, friends and community as well as other countries around the globe facing this Pandemic.

At times it has been scary and for sure filled with uncertainty and questions.  It seems like each step of the journey has introduced new information, new elements that have tossed me into a cycle of change and transition.

However, the rallying cry, ‘we are in this together’ – kept me aligned strong and committed.

Now there is a new crack that has challenged my belief about being in this together.

Re-opening has started. 

This process of re-opening seems incredibly chaotic and disjointed.  I don’t see or feel the we are all in this together anymore!

Each state has is doing it’s own thing and there seems to be all sorts expert opinions that offer very differing perspectives on what is best or safest.

I believe here the biggest driver may economics and I get that this is a very serious concern.  Our economy is based on businesses small and large operating. People being able to spend and sell. 

There are also some mentions of why this may even be a healthy choice – though much like alternative medicine when it comes to health issues – these ideas are not the standard nor considered evidence-based.

The problem – we don’t have a great deal of evidence around a Pandemic and may be not enough data collected to know this virus.

So it’s all a bit of guess work.

Blown Away: AKA My oh Sh%T Moment!

Seriously this so reminds me of the day I discovered the treatment for my cancer wasn’t working. My doctor and medical team, informed me they didn’t have other options. I probably had 3 to 6 months to live. 

I was blown AWAY.  I was certain that as experts and leaders they were going to get me through this health crisis. In that moment, I got that was not the case. I discovered that really my medical team at that point was in it with me if I understood and traveled the road where I believed I was most certainly dying.

Oddly I as I moved out beyond the medical model I discovered many other ‘experts’ with differing strategies to offer me.  Some of which were possibly going to prolong my current life expectations. 

This is when the conflict really surfaced! 

These experts were not very friendly and did not agree. I did not experience being in this together! The next few years of my journey around my health were riddled with uncertainty and conflict. 

I did call my various ‘experts’, my team.  However, I would not say we were cohesive. I discovered some of these experts were very helpful in encouraging me to pull the diverse expertise and wisdom into my decision-making.  These ‘experts’ also provided me a language and a way to tap into my own resources and make simple decisions out of complex data and differing perspectives that supported me day-to-day in living my full life – not just a cancer storyline.

I am very grateful for those people.

I am so grateful that I rode the wave of conflict and uncertainty. That I stayed curious and as a result I think creative.

Back To Today

I am looking back now, thinking this is again a time to rally around diverse perspectives, conflict and find ways to make simple decisions that support my life, my family, my business and my community moving forward.

A want the rally cry to be we are in this together – however, I can only find that ground when I am willing to embrace the conflict.  Not make those different wrong but try to find the threads that can weave the fabric together.

I do believe it is possible.  I have seen, felt and lived through this type of crisis.  I want to be a lighthouse that shines a beacon for that possibility.  I am here and I am still with you – even if our navigational feedback is presenting a different path. Even in the uncharted and and potentially dangerous terrain each person, business, state and country is taking, I do still believe we are in this together!

Connecting, Leadership, Life Experiences

Learning From Wild Mustangs

Going to the Wild Mustangs

I am heading off to work with the Mustangs. I find myself excited and curious.
The stories I have heard from earlier classes create some uncertainty. Yet as I reflect on my intention I find I settle.

I am NOT heading into this to tame a mustang.
I am NOT seeking to become a horse whisperer.

I AM seeking to discover how I can settle inside myself.
Let go of my attachment to outcomes without letting go of imagining and dreaming.

I am far less concerned about taming a wild mustang,
Than discovering how to quiet my mind.

I imagine I will judge myself.
I imagine I will frighten myself.
I imagine I will challenge myself.

I want to discover how to read the cues and signals
Without getting loud.
I want to connect without reservations,
Knowing my safety comes from within,
Knowing I can listen and hear the music.
I can step back and observe.
I can be held.

Yes, these are some of my desires.
I want to connect,
But more so invite.
I want to feel the vibration,
Mine and that of others.

I want to learn lessons from the masters.

Returning from Learning from the Wild Mustangs

So I wrote the intentions above on my way to the workshop. Now coming home I look back and smile. I have a felt sense of having reached for and lived my intentions fully!

I was willing to step into vulnerability and notice when a wave of reaction or separation rose to the surface. I didn’t flinch or run, but dropped in and felt. I worked to share, as best I could, through the awkwardness of my words, my message.

I noticed the moments when that message was received or responded too with something different in return. I didn’t lose myself in the feedback. I listened. I received. I remained sane and open to what did fit and what didn’t.

This lesson came through so clearly from Petey, the most wild one. He was the mustang that presented with what seemed to be deeply held patterns of fear and uncertainty. He was the one that presented with the greatest resistance to touch or connection. He’d nip or bite at his dearest companion, the one who knew him best, Max. He’d tuck down and move rapidly to avoid our hands. When touched he’d come out bucking and kicking. Yet with a break and time to release the fear and anxiety, he’d turn and follow Max back in for more.

Finally, he discovered the comfort of touch and relaxed. Until the next morning and the waves of his uncertainty came again. Only this time not quite as strongly or for as long.

In so many ways his willingness and curiosity was inspiring. I found myself more willing to trust and open. Knowing that there was nothing to be fixed or that I had to do right but that I could keep working at my pace. Some would not understand why some lessons didn’t stick – but some would and more importantly I would, showing compassion and kindness for myself, staying vulnerable.

Petey taught me to be okay in just showing up. Far from perfect. Not right. Real.

Max, on the other hand, was one of those beings who stepped into the moment and with each new door opening, stepped in. I imagine he will find his person and forever home first. That relationship is likely to come more rapidly and easily. Yet, his journey was not less filled with trauma. He simply let go with more grace and ease.

I have often longed to be like Max. Yet I found my mirror in Petey. Trust still does not come easy. However, trust does come. I believe Petey will also find a home, though it is not a given. That is part of the work, getting these wild mustangs to a place where they can find a home and continue this work of building relationships. This does require someone who is able to keep the training going. I hope it will someone with the heart and patience of trainers like Koelle and Kasia. I do believe he will be okay. He has a willingness to show up and someone will see that potential even through the waves of resistance, fear and uncertainty.

One night, I had a dream I was riding Petey. The dream was so vivd and real. I could feel the quiver, the power and the wild heart and spirit. I also felt my own heart beating in return.

We all have our journey. Some are more turbulent than others. My greater goal is to live with an open-heart – that may indeed be a cracked open heart – I’ll take the scars and I’ll relish when the light shines through. Just like Petey.