Category Archives: Valuing Differences

Connecting, Connection, Life Experiences, Valuing Differences

It Still Comes Back to the Waiting Room

When Ben and Jock started Haven, it grew out of something they had discovered in their medical practices:

Healing was often happening more in the waiting room than in their offices.

Their patients were very different—elderly people and teenagers—and their backgrounds included acupuncture, emergency medicine and psychiatry. Yet it wasn’t necessarily their medical expertise that was making the most transformative difference in people’s lives.

It was what was happening relationally.

People were talking. Sharing stories. Seeing themselves in one another. Feeling less alone.

Ben and Jock wanted to take that further. Eventually, they let go of their medical licences to focus on group dynamics, relationships and embodiment.

By the time I arrived, relational programs had been happening for years, and the work had found a home on Gabriola Island at a place called The Haven.

Some of the core programs from those early years are still offered today—from Come Alive and Couples Alive to month-long programs devoted to personal development, relationships and leadership training.

The leadership month was called New Horizons. The name reflected its exploration of new and cutting-edge ideas in psychology, science, philosophy and medicine, alongside both Eastern and Western ways of understanding human experience.

What I remember most was the spirit of the program:

Touch on everything. Then blow up every theory and structure.

Not to dismiss what could be learned, but to crack the structure open. To help the mind grasp that there isn’t one right way.

There are pieces—fractals of truth—in all systems and theories. What makes them living is how they respond to the actual human being who walks, talks, breathes and relates out in the world.

What we believe matters. But it doesn’t have to become permanent. It doesn’t have to become “right.”

Of course, Ben and Jock had strong opinions, as did the many people who led and worked alongside them. But the highlight of New Horizons was when each participant pulled together and shared their own living model.

In some ways, each of us was being asked to create our own waiting room—a place where people could gather, experiment, discover and meet one another more honestly.

Then people would go back into their lives. Some returned to intern, assist, lead and contribute to the ongoing educational process. They brought what they were learning from their own lives back into the room.

Not every way of relating or working was agreeable to Ben and Jock. Some people found their feedback confronting. At times, I did too.

But there was also something deeply enlivening about it—and, for me, incredibly valuable.

No matter how often I got knocked for being a victim or acting entitled, I still wanted to come back.

I wanted to understand.

I wanted to throw my opinions into the room and hear what came back. I wanted to encounter different experiences and different ways of coping, loving and living in what often seemed to me to be a very harsh world.

Over time, I became less afraid of the bumps, the bullies, the righteous certainty and even the hate.

I began to recognize that much of what frightened or angered me was another person’s attempt—sometimes clumsy, defended or harmful—to be loved, accepted and to belong.

That didn’t make every behaviour okay. It didn’t mean there was no need for accountability, boundaries or repair.

It meant I became more interested in what was happening between us than in proving who was right.

I am so grateful I kept coming back, even when it seemed I wasn’t very good at empathy or at getting beyond my own pain and blame.

I kept coming back.

And slowly, I learned to lead more with my heart and with my best human self.

I made mistakes.

I learned.

I repaired.

And I kept weaving those experiences into becoming more human, more real and, actually, more loving.

Along the way, I gathered all sorts of skills and training—from family systems, somatics and emotional release work to psychotherapy, Satir Family Reconstructions, addiction work, business consulting, coaching and equus work.

There was mystical and spiritual work, too. So many programs, theories, books, teachers and resources.

I value all of it.

But for me, it still comes back to that waiting room and the relational tools.

Life isn’t fair. Horrible things happen. People hurt one another, sometimes knowingly and sometimes while believing they are doing the right thing. No amount of training can promise that we will never cause harm—or create a space in which nobody will ever feel hurt, unseen or misunderstood.

What we can learn is how to stay present.

How to listen.

How to speak honestly.

How to notice when certainty has closed our minds and hardened our hearts.

How to take responsibility for our impact, repair what we can and remain in relationship long enough for something new to become possible.

Expertise can inform us. Knowledge can expand us. Training can help us recognize what we have not yet learned to see.

But no amount of expertise or knowledge means much without heart and connection.

That is what I believe Ben and Jock discovered in the waiting room.

And after all these years, it is still what I believe makes transformation and yes maybe healing possible.

Communication, Community, Connection, Leadership, Valuing Differences

Finding Truth In The Chaos

There are many roads to travel.
Lately, I keep trying to find a thread that isn’t all ache, rage, or worry.

There’s a lot of that these days.

I don’t want to be someone who simply looks away while my country feels like it’s sliding toward something darker—something closer to a dictatorship than a democracy. And what unsettles me most is not just what I see, but how unsure I am about what to believe.

The news.
The scrolls.
The certainty with which everyone seems to know exactly what’s happening—and exactly who’s to blame.

In my world of connection—real conversations, eye contact, shared meals—people are concerned. They’re worried. They’re tired. And yet, walking down the streets in Oregon, through airports, sitting next to strangers, listening to their fears and stories, I’m not encountering the same apocalyptic certainty that fills my screens.

That dissonance messes with me.

I know the history. I know the comparisons people make—Germany, other moments when horrifying acts were sanctioned while everyday life continued and people didn’t act soon enough. I don’t want to be that person. The one who says later, I didn’t know or I thought it would turn out differently.

I just finished a Louise Penny novel that felt uncomfortably close to our current reality. I’m rewatching The West Wing—loving the idealism, aching for that version of leadership—while also noticing how even there, politics slide so easily into sides, certainty, and storylines that leave little room for real collaboration.

So I keep asking:
What does all of this actually mean for me?

Yes, I can call my senators.
I can voice my concerns about a government that seems increasingly unaccountable, a Supreme Court that feels overtly political, a justice system that appears uneven and sided.

And I do believe those actions matter.

But I’m also deeply aware of another truth I live by: I am not separate from the world I’m critiquing. I am participating in it—through my fear, my projections, my righteousness, my silence, my love.

I believe that beneath all this separation, we are connected. Not as an idea, but as a lived reality. And I believe in love—or something divine, or intelligent, or larger than me—that I don’t get to own, define, or control.

That belief doesn’t let me off the hook.
It actually puts me more squarely on it.

Because if connection is real, then the work isn’t only “out there.” It’s also in how I listen. How I stay curious. How I resist the urge to collapse people into villains or heroes. How I choose presence over numbness and relationship over retreat.

I don’t have a clean conclusion.
I’m not offering certainty or a solution.

What I have is a commitment—to not look away, and also not harden. To stay engaged without letting fear be the only voice at the table. To keep choosing connection as a form of responsibility, not avoidance.

Maybe that’s the thread I’m following right now.

Not certainty.
Not righteousness.
But relationship.

And the willingness to keep asking:
How do I want to be in this moment—while the road is still unfolding?

Communication, Connecting, Embracing Unknown, Life Experiences, Valuing Differences, Vulnerability

Fear, Love, and the Risk of Reducing Aliveness

I recently came across a research abstract suggesting that Virginia Satir’s experiential family systems approach might be “integrated” with models like Emotion-Focused Therapy. The intent: give her work more structure, theory, and replicability.

It stopped me in my tracks.
Could Satir’s profound body of work—rooted in presence, creativity, and relational aliveness—be reduced to “mere creative techniques”? Sadly, yes.

And it’s not just Satir. Many programs born of humanistic psychology have been distilled into measurable techniques, slotted neatly into systems that can be studied and standardized. Relevant, yes. But at what cost?

When we prize only what can be researched or proven, we lose something vital. Aliveness. Creativity. Connection. We flatten the very field where transformation emerges.

Creation vs. Consumption

What I long for isn’t consumption of another “evidence-based” tool. It’s creation. Taking an idea and living in it—moving, playing, risking. Not applying theory with rigid gestures, but engaging the unpredictable edge where life actually shifts.

Evidence-based living too often traps us in right/wrong, safe/unsafe. The result? A shrinking space for wonder, possibility, and connection.

What Haven Taught Me

As part of The Haven Faculty, I’ve witnessed again and again the raw, alive field where healing happens—not through protocols, but through presence. Haven’s roots were never built on the theoretical. They grew from two physicians—one working with teens, one with elders—who noticed transformation simply by bringing people together.

Of course they developed models to support learning but they also made presence and connection the bottomline.

What drew me to Haven, and originally to Satir, wasn’t a model to be replicated. It was the power of human beings meeting each other without guarantees, without smoothing over, without management.

Haven has always been about leaning into conflict, discomfort, intensity—not to retraumatize, but to discover. To find more of ourselves and more of each other than we thought possible.

The Trouble with Safety

When frameworks and protocols become the defining lens, the focus shifts. The energy becomes about safety, prevention, containment. Safety matters—but transformation doesn’t live in managed safety. It lives in risk, in storm, in staying connected when it would be easier to retreat.

True safety is born in presence, not control. In the messy, unpredictable space of being human together.

The Larger Gift

Yes, trauma walks through our doors. It always has. And we hold it with care. But I refuse to let trauma—or the management of it—define transformation.

Satir’s gift, and Haven’s, is larger: a space that is alive, not managed. A space where fear and love meet, and in that meeting, choice becomes possible.

Connecting, Connection, Life Experiences, Valuing Differences

Love More Than Fear

I catch myself scrolling. Some of it is work—travel arrangements, bookings for Mojo, helping with CrisMarie’s travel. But much more is Retriever reels or Taylor Swift updates. I know it’s not healthy. I’d be better off reading, writing, or going for a bike ride. Yet here I sit, telling myself I’ve got something important to say.

And maybe I do.

Because here’s the truth: women are signing up for Find Your Mojo in Montana. It’s happening. That could be enough to pull me out to the ranch, to the horses, to the fresh air. Instead, I’ve only gone as far as researching lodging for those who want to stay outside of town.

So what gives?

This morning I was inspired by a channeling podcast—part of the Course in Miracles work we’ve been doing. Yes, channeled information. From what the speaker calls a collective of beings, including Jesus. Maybe that sounds strange. But is it stranger than believing we’re the smartest species in the universe while destroying our planet and waging endless wars?

Here’s the challenge:
What if wisdom comes from beyond our five senses?
What if reality isn’t limited to what our culture insists is “rational”?
What if we’ve been so busy rejecting what we can’t measure that we’ve blinded ourselves to the very love and intelligence keeping us alive?

The message I heard this morning was this:
Clear your mind. Step out of ego.
Get out in nature. Listen deeper.
See beyond the surface.

Because the deeper truth is this: we are not separate. We are connected. Survival mode is an ego trap. Our cultures are built on it—fight, compete, win, dominate. But what if that’s upside down? What if we’re eternal beings and this earthly classroom exists not for survival but for remembering? For returning to love?

Despite everything—our arrogance, our denial, our wars—we are still here. And it’s not because of our brilliance. It’s because of the heart. The pulse of love inside each of us, in the animals, in the earth itself. That love keeps erupting, interrupting, rerouting us toward something greater.

Fear contracts. Love expands.
Fear isolates. Love connects.
Fear clings to survival. Love opens to possibility.

Yes, we have free will. We can keep choosing fear, fighting to exist. Or—we can take the harder, braver path: to love more than we fear.

Extinction is one option. Awakening is another.

That’s my quest now. To live less from fear, more from love.
What about you?

FYI: I am on my way out to the ranch!

Communication, Connecting, Connection, Leadership, Valuing Differences, Vulnerability

The Power — and Challenge — of Being Immediate in Community

When I’m in the middle of a rich, real community moment, I want to be all in. I want to name what’s happening, address it, and keep the connection alive right now.
That urgency can be a gift — and sometimes, a challenge.

I’m a very immediate person.
Sometimes that comes across as pressure or like it’s “all about me.”

At the recent Haven Faculty meeting — a deep, rich, and swirly experience — I threw myself into what I call a “pop-up community.” For me, the Haven is the best place to strengthen my skills in real, relational, and self-responsible living. It happens in programs, leadership, weekend meetings, and even online. But it takes intention — being present with what’s visible and invisible, owning mistakes, laughing, crying, and practicing patience.

That patience is my growth edge. In the moment, I often feel a strong urge to address issues right away, fearing they’ll grow if left alone. I’ve learned to speak my truth, then step back if others aren’t ready, leaving with clarity when I’ve invited full exchange.

Not everyone processes instantly. Sometimes insights or tensions surface later, away from the group. As a leader, I want to get better at supporting that — whether through a follow-up process, online sharing, or other ways to integrate after the fact. It’s one reason I’m developing Camp Connection.

I left the weekend with a few incompletes, so I’m reaching out, reflecting, and staying connected to that community energy as long as I can — to integrate, to strengthen both the branches and the heart of Haven, and to keep showing up real, relational, and self-responsible.

Connecting, Connection, Embracing Unknown, Faith, Life Experiences, Valuing Differences

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.

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, 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, Connection, Valuing Differences

Beyond Gold: Embracing Kindness and Dialogue in a Divided World

Amazing moment!

There’s a lot on my mind and in my heart these days. I’ve always loved the Olympics, not just for the competition but for the spirit of the games. However, I’ve sometimes been disappointed by the intense focus on winning and the pursuit of gold medals. This time around, though, it feels different. Maybe it’s because of Paris’ exceptional hosting. They’ve done a remarkable job. Or perhaps it’s because, after the isolation of the Covid Olympics, athletes are now able to have their families present, connect with teammates, and simply enjoy each other’s company.

Or maybe, in a world marked by fractures and conflict, these athletes are doing their best to show us a different way of being. Whatever the reason, it could also just be me. I find myself feeling more kind, open-hearted, and curious. I’m less driven by fear and more by love—love for myself, my family, friends, and even those I consider adversaries. I’m seeing the world through a different lens.

It’s intriguing to witness the care, joy, and cross-cultural connections unfolding in sports, especially when contrasted with the divisiveness and hostility often seen in politics. I believe Vice President Kamala Harris is bringing a new possibility to the table. Her team has certainly shaken things up. But as we look ahead to the next few months, I’m not entirely confident that the political environment will lead to significant change. True change, I think, will only come from us—the people—engaging in conversations and dialogue.

As I’ve mentioned before, finding unbiased coverage of issues can be challenging. But even with what’s available, we can still work towards understanding and making decisions that resonate with our hearts. When coaching executives, I often emphasize the importance of knowing your “ME”—understanding who you are, the beliefs you hold, and what you value. I also encourage them to move beyond being right or fixed in their views. Get feedback and listen without defending.

That’s essentially what I believe we all need to do. We need to understand the world we’ve built and seek out dialogue with as many people as possible. This helps us get clearer on what matters to our families, neighbors, and communities. Don’t just vote based on a soundbite or party affiliation. Do the work. That’s what democracy is truly about, and it’s what’s at stake.

Communication, Connecting, Valuing Differences

Let’s Talk – New Podcast

I decided I would try a new platform for producing a podcast during this political cycle.

It’s called Let’s Talk. I am putting the Pilot Episode uptoday through youtube. Have listen.

Let’s Talk – Episode 1