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I refuse to write New Year's resolutions. Also, I am a little in love with Krista Tippett of "On Being" fame. She possesses the perfect mind meld of spirit and science and matters of the heart. Tippett pivots away from resolutions and towards questions. She offers a way to find our deepest question for the year, and to go on a journey of discovery to find its answer. She draws upon Rilke, another one of my favorite writers, from his "Letters To A Young Poet", "Rilke said, try to be patient with all that is unresolved in your heart. Dwell with what is unresolved. Don't treat it as something that you have to rush to an answer for, because if those questions are big and important enough, what you want is to be able to live the answers that they would give you."  I love this. We need to live these questions and to live with these questions, to know what it would mean to live our way into the answers. This is such a beautiful way to honor our journeys through life, by respecting and honoring the questions we hold deep in our hearts, and by dwelling inside the questions and get to feel them, smell them, touch them, see them, hear them until their answers are revealed to us. Tippett goes on to say, "When a new question rises up in us, stops us in our tracks, [t]hose are pivot points. Those are moments when the possibility of discovery breaks in. So the invitation here is to engage the adventure of a new reverence for the questions that are alive in you, the questions that are alive in the world around you." So often, we rush to find 'the answer'. But form follows function, the medium is the message, the means to the ends is the point, there is no 'there there' without here. She posits, "[N]ot grasping for the first thing that feels like an answer but moving with curiosity towards it and testing it and not feeling like it's a failure if it turns out that what that was meant was to be an investigation." This feels so much more relevant and resonant with me than making resolutions, that I would most likely forget about after a month. I feel focused on the joy of my work as an end of life doula and conscious dying educator. I feel happy with my partner and my kids, one of whom is getting married this year which is so joyful and fun. I love learning blues and swing dance, and reading and screening wonderful works. I love my home. I focus both on my health and on activism. But this year I am moving from sometimes writing to becoming a writer. This has been a slow and solitary evolution, requiring the shedding of copious buckets of doubt. I have joined a writing program for the year.  So my question is, how can I open to all that is in my heart and mind as I grow my writer's voice? I would love to hear your question. Please share it with me in the comments below. Pick up Krista Tippett's book, "Becoming Wise: An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living" or listen to her podcast, "On Being". She will lift you up.

Sometimes I feel like I am starting my slow slide toward Death.  Actually, I picture it like a Slip and Slide that my kids used to love at a Water Park. Its super fun until it's not. After hours of gleeful shouts and flops, they got tired and cold. Is it weird to think of death that way?  "My loved ones cannot save me. Our loved ones cannot keep us from death; there is no delaying its advent. Holding this thought in mind, I exercise non-grasping." This is the Seventh Contemplation. The Nine Contemplations, written in the 11th century by the Buddhist monk and scholar Atisha, addresses the twisting, jeweled path of life and ultimately death. They are a quiet warning of the inevitable and the need for preparation, so that we can go beyond fear and live a fully engaged life. For me, non-grasping is the key. I cannot control my death. I need to be present and enjoy the ride!

When my spirit becomes homeless, I want it to fly away and achieve true freedom, untethered, unadorned, full of light. Who but Rilke could capture this flight so magnificently? "You, my own deep soul, trust me, I will not betray you. My blood is alive with many voices telling me I am made of longing. What mystery breaks over me now? In its shadow I come into life. For the first time I am alone with you – you, my power to feel." by Reiner Maria Rilke, translated by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows Happy New Year! Here is to 2026! Here is to freedom! Here is to the spirit!

2025 has been quite a year, right?!  I spent time in fear, in rage, in despair, in hopelessness, and in historical review of ultra-right wing trends. I learned that I needed more than to white knuckle it. A few months in, I began to practice how to relax into the gunk and found two very important gifts. One is joy and the other hope. I am not letting go of hope (joy and hope combined)! I am holding on tightly! They are essential ingredients for what we are cooking! They will help see us through. Andrea Gibson, since their death in July 2025, has become our favorite kitchen table poet. They have exploded in notoriety. Their poems are everywhere. They are full of hope! Here's to growth, and to rage, grief, screaming, and to hope and joy and love and learning! We continue!  Here is a goodbye to 2025 and thank you for the lessons! And to Andrea Gibson for shining the light. To HOPE!

Let's end the new year by anointing ourselves! Let's purify and honor making it through 2025! All you need is one bottle of essential oils- frankincense or myrrh or lavendar or orange, or even oregano or rosemary oils. And a few minutes. Sit in silence for a few minutes, feel yourself center, and then focus your mind on sensing where you need to release energy. You may want to release that energy which is stuck or honor the parts of your being that have been giving you strength and fortitude. Or both. Then, with gratitude, intentionally and ceremoniously touch all these symbolic or actual parts of your body with your finger after putting a drop or two of oil on it. Or Touch the 7 chakras. Or Use the chart below for where to anoint yourself! Enjoy! Goodbye to 2025 and its lessons! Hello to 2026 and all that we will face with eyes and heart and mind wide open! #deathdoula #livingwhiledying #gratitude #anointing #cleansing #releasing #griefandloss #deathanddying

As we end 2025, its useful to look back at the year in review and notice how we fared as evolving beings of light, with an abbreviated version of the five hindrances. The five hindrances can be understood as very common, negative mind sets which hinder us on the spiritual path, as per Buddhist philosophy: The first hindrance is Desire. "Everything will be OK when I get what I want." Is that really true? The second hindrance is Ill Will or Aversion. "I don't want this. I don't like this. This should not be happening." What is the deeper truth underneath? The third hindrance is Sloth and Torpor. "I can't deal. I better go numb or shut down completely." Where does going numb lead us to? The fourth hindrance is Restlessness and Worry. "Something is wrong. I need to fix this. This can't be happening." We must ask if we really are in control of the situation? The fifth hindrance is Doubt. "I must be broken. Maybe I can trust, but if I do, will it all go bad again? I doubt things will work out well for me. They never do." What would it be like to let go of my fear? Personally, I struggle with aversion and doubt, with a little side of worry. What helps me the most is staying present and just getting curious about the hindrances I feel. Where do I feel them in my body? What is it like to feel aversion? Usually by the time I do that, the hindrance has moved on and I am left with the wonderful, glorious present moment. Here is to our wonderful, mixed up, crazy human journey! Let's let go of a bit more of the hindrances in 2026!

Since the day my daughter was born, I was never sure she really wanted to be here. By being here I mean in a body. Alive, embodied, and on the earth. My identical twin daughters weighed 4.1 pounds at birth, born at almost 34 weeks gestation, so they were little rugrats. The first one out of the hatch is known as Baby A and the second one as Baby B. When she and her sister were about two months old, I took them to a Jewish women's group I was part of, meeting on the new moon each month.  A kind woman, leading the group blessing for them, asked me what they were like. What an amazing question, one that affirmed that all of us, including my babies are spirits inhabiting bodies, with lessons we come into this life with and very distinct personalities. I said that her sister, Baby A, was raring to go. She wanted out of the womb, breaking my water after 12 weeks of bedrest, in a staged break-out! I said that she, Baby B, was just very chill, and hadn't decided if she really wanted to be here yet. She was just a bit removed and aloof. One of the first things I learned about being a mom of twins, was not to compare them. But it was clear Baby A wanted to be alive. So in my guilty comparison, Baby B was quite a bit calmer, less prone to crying fits, and held back a bit in her own sweet way.  I have been thinking about that story of her being a baby who exuded ambivalence from the outset lately.  I still see these basic traits in her and it is almost 27 years later. So we were talking one night and I told her the story. Her response was immediate and precise. She said "Sounds right." I was amazed by her ability to accept my point of view. I don't know how much is personality. After all, twin research shows that the social environment of the twinship causes differentiation of behaviors and personality. Maybe its just the samskaras, karma, life questions and life lessons she was born with to work out in her journey this lifetime. Maybe she and her sister are working through some past lifetime stuff. Maybe its just the way she is wired, neurologically-speaking. Maybe its just random and arbitrary. I find her to be a gentle and innocent soul, with a wonderfully sarcastic sense of humor, very quick to deduce and distill the core idea in a conversation, and amazingly spacey, disorganized, with a real lack of executive functioning. I love her madly.

Really now, what matters most to you? Whether we are delving into a deep life review over the decades or considering the shape of our 2025, a few questions can frame our loving conversation with ourselves. This is the frame I use: 1. What mattered most to me (this year)? What gave me joy? What made me feel most alive? When did I have the most energy flowing inside me and experience the most openness to life? For me, there were three top things that made me feel super energized and bouncy with joy: a) growing closer to and spending luscious time with my boyfriend of 2.8 years; b) intentionally devoting more time to writing posts and flirting with writing longer stories; c) leading end of life education experiences with beautiful humans. Just reflecting on these things fill me with gratitude. And there are so many others that I want to add to that list that I feel the richness of my life. On to the next question: 2. What do I want to let go of? What or who am I holding on to? What am I negatively attached to in thought, word or deed? For me, I have alot of stuff here. a) I am letting go of my attachment to being good friends with my kids' dad, since he keeps expressing his lack of interest. It has been 5 years since I finally ended our 23 years of relating and I have had a hard time letting go of wanting to stay connected, especially for our kids. I am ready now. It is time. b) I am also letting go of my belief of how much food I need in a day. I actually need much less than my brain is used to having. I let go of a bit of extra weight just recently in a very intentional way and not only do I feel better in my skin, but in my head. I can eat less and feel better! c) I was able to accept that friendships change as we age. I let go of some friendships that I feel I outgrew and was let go of by other people. I began some new lovely friendships and have hope in some promising connections. I renewed some old friendships. Friendships and community is so important to me and is my chosen family. I feel ready and open to keep learning in this area. d) I also let go of some chronic pain. I was feeling so frustrated by bouts of different joints and muscles in serious pain, chronic UTIs, and hormonal/blood sugar imbalances. In reflecting back over the year, I see so much improvement and resolution that I feel confident letting go of corresponding negative beliefs about my health that keep me stuck. 3. The final question has to do with how I want to align the lessons of the last year with the new year. What intentions and awarenesses do I want to bring with me as I cross the threshold into 2026? I am thrilled to re-affirm my love of deep friendships and relationships with my beautiful, young adult daughters, my partner, my new and old friends. I am looking forward to doing more public teaching and presentations on end of life. I will write more, eat less, feel good in my body. I will stay open to the lessons of the day, every day. Peace.

Do you have a chronic health issue? A disease that has been with you for a long time? Do you feel fragile and vulnerable? I am in my late 60's and my health is good. I work at it every day. But I have chronic health issues that have plagued me for 25-45 years. I thought they were well managed until this year. Suddenly, my asthma was out of control, my interstitial cystitis was flaring up most days, and my piriformis syndrome got worse. Additionally, I was inexplicably gaining weight and symptoms of systemic candidadiasis were back, pointing to hormonal imbalance. After I got over feeling hopeless, frustrated and mad, I was inspired to try new solutions, experimenting with new drugs, and new physical therapy treatments. Who knew a speech therapist could help me manage my asthmatic coughing?  Amazingly, I am feeling about 50-70% better, although I could really use a new bladder, if you know of one. I feel very humbled by this. At any time, things can change. Drastically. Sickness can arrive at any time. We just never know. Impermanence reigns supreme. The Nine Contemplations, written in the 11th century by the Buddhist monk and scholar Atisha, addresses the twisting, jeweled path of life and ultimately death. They are a quiet warning of the inevitable and the need for preparation, so that we can go beyond fear and live a fully engaged life. The Sixth contemplation is: "My body is fragile and vulnerable. The human body is fragile and vulnerable. My life hangs by a thread." What makes you feel fragile and vulnerable?

My 90 year old friend is sad. He is living with the regret that he is not leaving behind a legacy, a body of work. His friends have authored books and started groups that have become large organizations. My friend is very lovable and loving. Whenever I get to be around him, I am happy. He is very intelligent and knowledgeable about literary things, and I always feel just a bit smarter after leaving his company. He is trying to forgive himself for not doing more. He is trying to accept himself and his life. He is trying to be comfortable joining the masses of people who have not left a major legacy. He will be remembered like most of us will be for a random act of kindness, a moment of generosity, a hilarious story, a penchant for poetry, an unmoving faith in humanity, and if we are lucky enough to have brought little precious beings into this cray cray world, for our children and our children's children. The Nine Contemplations, written in the 11th century by the Buddhist monk and scholar Atisha, addresses the twisting, jeweled path of life and ultimately death. They are a quiet warning of the inevitable and the need for preparation, so that we can go beyond fear and live a fully engaged life. The Fifth contemplation is:  "Death has many causes. There are many causes of death- even habits and desires are precipitants." May we live freely and openly until we die, of whatever cause takes us.  May our habits help us cultivate gratitude, forgiveness and acceptance every waking moment. May our desires hinge on the desire to touch pure love. May my friend know peace.

A friend in her forties almost died recently from an accidental overdose. It reminded me that we never know when death will reach out for us. That thought reminded me of the Fourth Contemplation: "My life span is not fixed. Human life expectancy is uncertain; death can come at any time." The Nine Contemplations, written in the 11th century by the Buddhist monk and scholar Atisha, addresses the twisting, jeweled path of life and ultimately death. They are a quiet warning of the inevitable and the need for preparation, so that we can go beyond fear and live a fully engaged life.  Each Contemplation moves me but knowing a friend faced death for a few critical days, was on life support, and now is slowly returning to her functioning body, really shook me up.  I never want to take a day or a minute for granted. I want to live consciously every moment. I don't want to squander my time.  I want to be ready for death when it is time for my life to end. This is my intention.  It motivates me to dance and to write and to be with loved ones and to hike in nature and to roast lots of vegetables.

If I had one wish as an end of life doula, it would to be contacted earlier! The dying person or their caregiver usually wait too long to get the benefits we offer - support and empathy and guidance.  Just like hospice is called in too late and can only do crisis-level care, end of life doulas are also called in too late. Recently I was called by a birth doula about her dear, dying friend, who really needed some help articulating her final wishes and support to get on hospice so she could be more comfortable. We had a good, long talk and the friend's primary caregiver was going to call any minute. I didn't hear from the caregiver and found out later that the dying woman had unexpectantly died that very day. We do not know if she was ready; if she was at peace; if her caregiver knew her wishes. We hope so. We pray for an easy transition for her.  Because death was ready to embrace her.  The Nine Contemplations, written in the 11th century by the Buddhist monk and scholar Atisha, addresses the twisting, jeweled path of life and ultimately death. They are a quiet warning of the inevitable and the need for preparation, so that we can go beyond fear and live a fully engaged life. The Third contemplation seems apropos here:  "Death comes whether or not I am prepared." Let us not be afraid to prepare. Let us embrace planning for our death. Let us articulate our wishes. Who do we want to be with us? Where do we want to be? What is left unsaid? What do we need to let go of so we can find peace? What do we want our loved ones to remember about us? Because death comes whether or not we are ready for it. Death comes while we are busy denying it. Death comes even when we don't want it to arrive. What do we have to lose by being ready for it?