It’s not in death that we find our loved ones, but in life — by being alive, by celebrating. Too often, we think connection with those who have passed belongs only to silence, mourning, or cemeteries. But memory lives in movement. It is in laughter, in shared meals, in the music they loved, and in the small rituals of daily life that their presence breathes again.

Sometimes we think we’re chasing our goals—until we realize they’re echoes of our parents’ hopes. Maybe it’s the career they never had, the country they never moved to, the life they once imagined but couldn’t live.

This is what I share with my clients. I help them cultivate trust in their healing journey. Not the rushed, “I want to feel better in an hour” kind — but the real kind. Healing is not a destination. It’s how you show up every day. It’s how you respond to relationships, challenges, life. Healing shows when you no longer react from your wounded inner child — but from your integrated adult self.

We all face moments when we feel unsafe—not just physically, but emotionally. Maybe someone says something cruel. Maybe a situation feels out of control. Maybe we're pushed too far, and suddenly, we’re not just reacting—we're protecting ourselves.

There’s a quiet kind of power in not arguing with reality. It doesn’t mean I like everything that happens. It doesn’t mean I condone harm or avoid change. But I’ve learned that the energy I used to spend resisting what is—wishing things were different, spinning in frustration, or getting stuck in “shoulds”—rarely moved me forward.

might discover that the discomfort is a doorway, not to be avoided, but to be walked through. And on the other side may be clarity, growth, or freedom you didn’t even know you needed. So next time the pressure builds, don’t rush to escape it. Ask the deeper question. The truth might be waiting right beneath the surface.