Category Archives: Life Experiences

Launching Camp Connection

I am moving into new territory. Not only with my mother’s passing and all the changes and shifts that brings, but also in my relationship to Haven.

Haven itself is evolving, finding its own way forward. I hadn’t fully considered how much that would influence my own life and choices. But as I’ve gone through this time of loss and reflection, I realized how intertwined Haven has been in my journey of becoming.

When I first came to the Haven, I arrived with my sister, Penny. I had cancer and was told I likely had only six months to live. It was a way for us to be together in the time I thought I had left. That first Come Alive changed the trajectory of my life.

In many ways, I grew up there. I trained there. I learned, healed, and received so much. And as best I could, I tried to give back. Without Haven, I don’t believe I would have repaired the fractures in my family or created the meaningful relationships—like the one I have with CrisMarie—that sustain me.

And yet, everything is shifting.

The funny thing about Haven is that, in many ways, it felt like re-living camp. I lived on an island. We were adults instead of children, gathered around charismatic leaders—brilliant, imperfect, and human. I loved them, and at times I wanted to knock them off their pedestals.

Now, so many of the people who shaped my experience are gone. I still find myself wrestling with how to keep the core of what I loved alive. But I’m beginning to see that this is no longer my role—or my desire.

I want to let those cords dissolve. I want to allow myself to be re-created and Haven as well.

So, I find myself called to launch something new:

Camp Connection

For now, Camp Connection will be an online community. A space—not a place—where we can come together to connect, grow, and remember who we are beneath the stories and the armor.

Here is the vision I hold:

Vision Statement for Camp Connection
Camp Connection is not a place—it is a space we create together.

It is a space where we set aside the walls that keep us apart and step into the aliveness of authentic connection. Where the elements that shape us—our stories, our experiences, our differences, and our dreams—are honored and welcomed.

Camp Connection can arise anywhere: around a campfire, in a boardroom, or across a circle of chairs. Wherever we gather with courage and curiosity, we discover the possibility that lives within and between us.

Here, we are invited to listen deeply, to share openly, and to remember that belonging is not given to us—it is something we co-create.

Camp Connection is a call to come together in wonder, to awaken what is dormant, and to build community grounded in respect, empathy, and shared purpose.

It starts with a Mighty Network—already set up (complete with a few misspellings!). But ready to begin.

If you feel curious or called to join me, here’s an invitation: Camp Connection on Mighty Netorks.

Living Untethered After Good Bye

Me and my sisters Melissa and Penny

Home

My friend Paula kept gently telling me that at some point, I’d feel the shift.

Maybe it would come with exhaustion. Maybe with freedom.

But it would come.

I thought the riptide I felt in my mother’s final days was that shift.

Then came another wave — a vortex of emotion — as I worked on the memorial videos and prepared to travel to Seattle to celebrate her life.

Again, it was Paula who reminded me to stay present. To feel my way through the day.

And I did my best. It was a beautiful day — full of tears, joy, connection, and letting go.

Now I’m home. And the energy has shifted again.

I’m exhausted — and also floating a bit, untethered.

Some of the stories and memories I’ve always held so clearly… don’t quite hold the same meaning anymore.

Something’s rearranging.

As I tried to explain this new feeling — and wrestled with what I should do next — my friend Robin gently interrupted.

She said, “You keep talking about what you need to do. But what do you want to do?”

That stopped me.

I realize now: I need time.

I’m so wired to be productive. To get back on track, to plan, to accomplish.

But maybe that’s not what’s needed. Maybe it’s not what I need.

What do I want?

What if time isn’t meant to serve productivity, or safety, or even health?

What if it’s here to hold space for evolution?

We’re trained to use time to chase success — build strong bodies, stable careers, meaningful relationships, likes, money, recognition.

But what if that’s not the point?

What if the real invitation is to evolve out of separation?

Maybe that’s too much.

But maybe the purpose of this life is to learn to love. To collaborate. To connect. To live in peace.

I know — that sounds like “crazy talk.”

But every time my life has cracked open — during crisis, loss, or fear — that’s the truth that becomes crystal clear.

That really is what matters.

During COVID, people found extraordinary ways to connect.

When the floods hit Texas camps, strangers stepped in, walls came down, and people helped.

Same with wildfires, disasters — these moments break through the illusion of separateness. They stir something in us.

Then the crisis passes, and we try to go back to “normal.”

Why?

What if we didn’t?

What if we refused to return to the programming of separation, competition, and fear?

What if we chose something else?

I remember a moment — years ago — when I thought I was dying. I had just begun to drop some of my walls.

Someone said to me, “You might be better off dying.”

It sounds harsh. But I think I understood what they meant.

Living — really living — with an open heart, with love instead of fear — isn’t easy in this culture.

But I wanted to live. I still do.

Some days I’m not sure. Some days I fall back into blame and self-protection.

But I’m grateful. Because I keep getting another moment.

Another chance to be present.

To choose love.

My mother was someone, I believe, who chose that — again and again.

She lived it.

And now I get to ask myself:

What do I want, really?

And how can I live from that place?

Walking Through Duality: My Journey with A Course in Miracles

Years ago, I was introduced to A Course in Miracles (ACIM). What brought the course to my attention back then was hearing people—some of whom had played painful roles in my past—talk about how ACIM had helped them find forgiveness.

To be honest, I wasn’t impressed. It felt like a way for them to feel better about themselves without truly acknowledging their impact. Once again, I saw Jesus and God being used to justify or excuse behavior rather than transform it.

So when CrisMarie told me she wanted to do the full year-long workbook for A Course in Miracles, I wasn’t thrilled. But I chose to do it with her—all 365 days. And here I am now, engaged in a 28-day Forgiveness Challenge.

You might think this is the part where I say I’ve become a devout ACIM evangelist. But no—that’s not what happened.

What did happen was that I found myself looking deeper at how I construct my reality—how I interpret conflict, identity, and the stories I tell myself. ACIM became a surprising catalyst for learning and growth.

A Strange and Surprising Origin

The course was channeled through two psychologists who were struggling with conflict in their academic department. They claimed the source of the material was Jesus, offering a perspective radically different from traditional Christianity. That origin story alone fascinated me enough to keep going.

Still, I had my resistance. I struggled with the language: “Father/Son,” the heavy masculine tone, the King James-style writing. It was difficult at first to separate my reaction to the language from the deeper meaning beneath it.

But once I did, I found something remarkable.

Forgiveness as a Path Forward

The course teaches that forgiveness is the path to salvation—not as a lofty religious concept, but as a real, daily practice. It also presents a foundational choice we all face: to live in ego and survival mode, or to choose love and creation. That idea struck me as simple, profound, and incredibly relevant.

I’ve always wrestled with the idea that “love is everything.” The word gets thrown around in ways that feel vague or even misleading. But through this study— building on the many years of work I have done to heal at Haven, and also through the work of Dr. Joe Dispenza—I’ve come to understand that we are energy. Eternal. Connected.

This human experience is one of duality and separation. But somewhere beyond our comprehension, there is a space where everything is connected—where frequency, potential, and intelligent love live. I like to call that space God, or all potential.

Re-membering Who We Are

So here I am, walking through this experience of separation with one mission: to re-member. To remember that we are not isolated beings, but threads of the divine—all of us.

But I can’t see that unless I believe it’s possible.

It’s not about convincing others that my version of God or consciousness is right. That’s not the point. I have my own inner work. And when I attack, hate, or judge, I only make more work for myself.

It’s like I am firing a gun that only backfires. You’d think I would put that gun away. But I don’t – not when I think I am right or someone is doing something horribly wrong.

If I’m reacting from a survival state, that’s my own call for help. So why can’t I assume the same is true for someone else doing that.

For me forgiveness means dropping MY gun – not firing back in rightousness but considering that misbehavior is a call for help or healing.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean being a doormat. I can have boundaries, opinions, and walk away when needed. But the hardest—and most powerful—choice is to drop the sword. To step out of righteousness. To let go of the need for revenge or retribution.

That’s the real learning for me.

Living the Practice, One Moment at a Time

It can be incredibly hard in today’s world. The headlines, the suffering, the division. But it’s not that hard when I’m face-to-face with someone, listening deeply. In those moments, I can see past the veil of separation and glimpse the possibility that lives there.

It’s hard to hold that perspective globally. But day by day, moment to moment, I am making progress. And I believe I’m not alone.

Many of us are on a healing journey. It may look different—different paths, different language—but the intention is the same: to move beyond separation and into connection. Into the sacred. Into those shimmering moments of music, art, and soul where we remember who we really are.

Divine. Connected. Eternal.


I’m a attaching a playlist of a few songs currently inspiring me on my walking through duality path.

From Fracture to Fractal

Us at The Haven

For me, Haven is where I learned how to be relational—and real. I was fractured.

It brought me back to love. To loving. To creating, exploring, playing, and growing.

Before Haven, I was conforming, restricting, editing myself. Judging, separating. 

I often felt like I didn’t fit in. 

At times, I thought I was better than others—at other times, worse. 

I believed I had to be right, professional, smart, thin, flashy—wise or brilliant. Either profound or spiritual. 

But I didn’t know love back then.

Haven gave me a path to show up as I truly am.

Through breathing, and sharing what was happening inside me—how I was putting my world together, mostly based on past experiences and survival. 

Old stories that scared me or made me angry. 

And slowly, I began to realize: those stories weren’t true. Maybe they were once—but who could say?

Truth became important, but I also discovered something else: 

If I didn’t have to be right or wrong, I could share my story like an artist shares a painting—expressing how I felt in relationship to the world around me. 

And in doing so, I’d often discover that others had similar stories, or their art could support mine.

That made the moment freer. 

It wasn’t about facts—it was about creating.

Through my inner world, I could choose what helped me grow—or what kept me defended—and share that too.

I learned that when I spoke from a defended place, I blocked out new information. 

Or if something did sneak through, I’d just file it into an old, familiar box. 

But when I was in a growth state, new ideas would shift my perspective. 

My inner world would weave and evolve—like mixing paints. 

And that was fun. It was play. It sparked new activity and possibility.

I also realized I needed to face my old stories, scars, and stuck emotions. 

Without attention, they festered—like emotional cancers—messy, painful, and toxic to relationships. 

So I kept going. The process is ongoing.

I’ve learned the best way to live is by developing my capacity to relate— 

To my inner world, 

To the present moment, 

To the people and the energy around me.

It starts with understanding how I construct my reality— 

How to loosen the rigid beliefs I cling to— 

How to stay open to new possibilities, beyond what my senses perceive.

It’s about making space for difference—for people who are different—for a world that is complex and ever-changing.

And the foundation of Haven is opening to that possibility.

As my Haven journey has unfolded, I’ve come to see that everyone takes their own path. 

At times, that’s been hard. 

I wanted to intern “right,” assist “right,” lead “right.” 

But, like life, it’s not that simple.

There is some structure. 

There are core values. 

But ultimately, it comes down to three things:

Being present. Being relational. Being self-responding.

Never fractured just living as fractals.

From Survival to Story: Day One

I signed up for an online program called Healing Through Writing—a four-day firehose of classes that blend somatic practices with creative expression.

From the start, I could see the challenge. Live sessions, bonus workshops, all on Zoom—it was intense enough to convince me to go for the all-access pass without hesitation.

But now that it’s begun, I’ve found myself drifting toward excuses. It’s surprisingly easy to avoid sitting down, tuning in, and doing the actual writing.

So, I’ve set a gentle but firm intention: to post a blog each day, sharing something I’ve learned or something that stirred me—even if it’s small.

Because for me, this isn’t just about writing. It’s part of something bigger. A path I’m carving toward a more abundant life—one that feels whole, connected, creative, and deeply alive. The ink heart is my symbol for that journey ( remember I’m a writer not an artist).

Symbol for My Abundant Life – A little journey I am on and this course is a part

Day one, and already I’ve landed somewhere meaningful. My biggest takeaway? Just sitting with the question: What does healing mean to me?

Turns out, that’s a powerful place to begin. And maybe the first step toward the life I’ve been quietly reaching for all along.

Here’s my quick take:

Healing, to me, is the shift from survival mode into a space of creation. It’s when I begin to reconnect with life, with others, with myself—not just intellectually, but viscerally. It’s when I feel that connection is present, even if my senses or internal narratives try to convince me otherwise.

There’s a deeper knowing beneath all of it—that I am still connected, always.

When that sense becomes rooted in my everyday life, when I can live from that knowing and move with love and intention—that, to me, is healing. It’s living. It’s loving.

Returning Home: Heart Full, Eyes Open, and Embracing the Unknown

Come Alive Team

Just returned from an incredible and deeply fulfilling time at The Haven. First, Couples Alive, then Come Alive—both filled with meaningful moments shared with dear friends and new connections. My heart is full.

Now, I’m settling back into life in Montana. Fresh snowfall made for some exhilarating powder skiing on the mountain, which helped ease the transition.

A special milestone—my mom turned 97! We celebrated with her siblings via FaceTime, sharing a brief but precious moment.

Tomorrow, I’m setting up a fun celebration for my love, CrisMarie—incorporating art, community, and joy.

In the midst of it all, I’m juggling work commitments, confirming dates, wrapping up our annual report, and ensuring all the tax details are in order.

I find myself moving between joy and uncertainty—holding both the beauty of life and the challenges of being an American in a time that feels so disruptive. Thankfully, music helps keep me grounded, open, and clear.

A few standout moments from Haven:

  • Couples Alive was incredible, with Bob, Ruth, Susa, and Bryan creating an amazing support team for 10 fully engaged couples—truly inspiring.
  • Come Alive had more men than women, a unique and powerful dynamic.
  • Several participants returned after working with CrisMarie and me, eager for more growth.
  • My dear friend Leona (86) was there as support, offering so much more than just her presence.
  • Singing and chanting together as a group moved me deeply.
  • Important clearings reminded me that connection often comes when we truly locate ourselves—even if that means acknowledging distance.

I know more will unfold if I stay present and allow the unknown to flow in. I have resources to help, and for that, I’m grateful.

Breathe. Listen. Locate myself. Stay curious.

This approach works for skiing, for relationships, and for life.

Loving it all.

Soul Searching With My Sisters

Wow, it’s already mid-January—2025 is flying by! It’s funny how time feels so relative. Some moments rush by, like this month, while other parts of my day feel timeless. For instance, this morning, I didn’t even glance at the clock until noon and was shocked at how quickly time had slipped away.

Recently, I attended an Enneagram workshop called Know Your Soul. I’ve dabbled in the Enneagram before and found it intriguing, though I never seem to get the same result twice. But this workshop stood out from the start. It was my sister Penny who invited me, and when I found out on one of our regular sister calls that Melissa had signed up too, I decided to join. The workshop was held in person at St. Mark’s in Seattle, with a virtual option that made it easy for me to attend.

One unique aspect of this workshop was the pre-work. We were asked to retake the Enneagram test but answer the questions as we would have between the ages of 20 and 35. That twist sparked my curiosity. Adding to the fun, we were also asked to bring a photo of ourselves as 4-year-olds. My sisters and I had a great time sharing our childhood pictures during our sister call.

The workshop itself was rich, informative, and deeply meaningful for my current journey of leaning into the unknown. Answering the test questions as my younger self was eye-opening. While my memory of that time isn’t perfect, the results felt more aligned than ever before. For the first time, I could see a pattern—one type consistently appeared in my top three: Type 5. That felt significant.

What struck me most was how the Enneagram isn’t a static label. It’s fluid, dynamic, and tied to our growth. The workshop leader, who had decades of experience, shared his own challenges with identifying his type. He framed the test as an “ego personality test” because our ego solidifies in that 20-35 age range. But then he introduced the concept of the Soul Enneagram—how our deeper essence evolves as we grow in consciousness, beyond ego. That perspective resonated deeply.

I began to embrace my Type 5 in a new way. The idea of being a “hoarder” of knowledge hit home, as did the fear of emptiness that drives my thirst for understanding. I also learned how I disintegrate under stress into Type 7’s escapism but integrate into Type 8’s grounded leadership when I’m at my best. It all felt like pieces of a puzzle clicking together.

One of the most profound moments of the weekend was a meditation designed to reconnect us with our childhood selves. We were guided to draw our childhood homes, including the yard and surrounding environment. Sharing these drawings with my sisters afterward sparked deep, meaningful conversations. Despite our vastly different experiences of our shared past, we found new ways to connect.

This workshop wasn’t just about understanding myself—it also opened the door to reimagining my relationship with my sisters. The history between us has often felt dense and difficult to navigate, but through this experience, I’ve started to see it as a source of energy and wisdom that can evolve.

I’m still processing and integrating everything I learned, but one thing is clear: embracing the unknown doesn’t mean abandoning what’s known. Instead, it’s about allowing the known to surface in new ways, reshaping it, and using it to grow. This workshop was a powerful step in that journey, and I’m excited to see where it leads.

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.

Presence, Connection, and Co-Creation

This beautiful piece is by Leah Campbell Badertscher – it so captures co-creating

For me, life is fundamentally about relationships.

Why?

Because relationships ground me in the present moment.

Without this connection, I get lost in my mind, creating stories, planning, and believing that this is living. But it’s not. Real living happens when I step out of my thoughts and fully engage in the moment.

Achieving presence isn’t about effort or analysis; it’s about simply BEING—one breath, one sensation, one heartbeat at a time.

I honestly think this can only happen through connection.

Many people find it easier to connect with nature, animals, or even a place than with another person.

Why?

Because animals live in the moment. They aren’t worrying about the future or caught up in past dramas. They’re just BEING—not trying to look good, make money, or stay safe.

JOINING is our best chance to discover this sense of BEING.

We all crave connection, even if we don’t always know how to achieve it.

One of the most beautiful moments when working with horses without any equipment is when horse and human ‘join up.’ This happens when the human stops trying to control the situation and instead focuses on their own BEING.

When that shift happens, the horse often naturally comes closer, moves with the person, and stays in sync, as if linked by an invisible thread.

We long for that kind of connection with other people. But it’s harder with humans because we’re often focused on the external world, unaware of the stories and patterns we create to protect and control.

To truly connect with another person, we need to let go of that control and turn inward, taking responsibility for our part in the relationship.

It’s about listening intentionally, letting go of judgments, and moving beyond right and wrong.

When we do that, we invite ourselves into a generous, present moment.

This space is sacred, like hitting a reset button. It allows us to return to our true selves, leaving behind pain and old stories.

That’s when co-creation happens.

It’s easy to fall back into old habits, but staying present is possible.

This is the essence of Couple’s Alive Series that happen at the Haven—Being, Connecting, and Co-Creating.

I love leading this series. Being with other couples. We’ll be doing a Couples Alive II very soon. If you have taken Couples Alive Foundation – this is the next step and it’s focusing on Co-Creating.

My Political Roller Coaster: Reflections on Recent Events and Real Power

Wow, what a whirlwind it’s been lately. In such a short time, we’ve seen an assassination attempt, a fleeting call for unity, and then back to the usual political attacks. People putting bandages over their ear in some type of solidarity—how surreal is that? President Biden initially stood firm, refusing to back down, but just this past week, he stepped out of the process.

And then there’s VP Kamala Harris, now endorsed to lead the Democratic ticket. Honestly, my phone is going crazy with messages. It’s been an assault on my senses, but in some ways, I’m relieved Biden stepped down. Do I believe Kamala Harris can defeat Trump? Absolutely, and she should.

I say this because I don’t see Trump as genuiene, honest, or powerful in any way. My biggest issue with Trump is his ego. He rants, he’s mean, and he viciously attacks anyone who calls him out or challenges him. I’ve never heard him apologize or admit to any wrongdoing.

I don’t get the fear and fight that underlies so much of what I read. Yes, I want a strong country, but I also want relationships with people from different backgrounds, different countries. I don’t want to gloss over our mistakes—like slavery, the long battle for women’s rights, LGBTQ+ rights, and racial equality. These are critical parts of our history, and people have fought hard for their rights. We can’t lose those stories. Even when the stories make us look bad , those shouldn’t be forgotten or untold.

Education needs to be available to everyone and needs to be a space that allows for differences and develops young people into discerning individuals where there can be conflicting views and young people see a future that includes them.

Trump seems to equate fear and rage with power. But real power isn’t based on fear or threats. It’s about clarity, commitment, and the willingness to listen and evolve. It means moving beyond our limited beliefs and small-mindedness to something greater.

Honestly, I’m not sure if the Democrats have what it takes to be truly different. But right now, we’re in a moment of chaos, and I think that’s good. It’s a place to start. We learn when we’re thrown into the unknown. Let’s embrace this uncertainty and see if we can become a different country. We don’t have to be mighty; we can be strong and compassionate. Now, wouldn’t that be something?

Who is writing or running on that platform? I know we’re not there yet, but I believe we could be.