Tomorrow is Sarina’s 29th Birthday. I was contemplating to share with you a bit about that day from my upcoming book. For those who don’t know. Sarina was born a micro-preemie at 24 weeks. She weighed 1 pound and 15 ounces and spend the first six months of her life in the hospital. What a journey.

Sorry, I don’t want to tease you, but I decided not to share more today.  It’s too sad.

I chose this image today because I love this beauty very much. I look at it every day. The patina is real. I bought it in September of 1997 in Vail, CO. The year we got married. I shlepped it around from KY to OH to UT to CA to TX and back to CA. That’s how much I love it. A treasure. It lets me pay attention – it has a story to tell.

For now, I’ll share how I feel.

I feel raw, vulnerable and exhausted.  

I feel hope. I trust. I understand my path.


My body is my anchor. I nourish it every day on my mat, up on the mountain, with honest yummy food, and I dance. I’m grateful for this friend of mine.

My heart broke on August 8th, 1990. It holds grief and loss and incredible victories. I’m grateful it healed and it is beating.

My soul is wounded and reminds me every day that this is my path.

My spirit soars. Never tired it gently whispers don’t give up.

My husband, however hard PTS hits him, keeps loving both of us. We are good forgivers!

In times like this, I read more. Pema Chodron, most of all. I want to understand myself better. Through her words I do.

When I pause and feel my breath connect with my body – yes, it’s a 🏝Tiny Island moment –  I see clearly on which train my mind travels. Back and forth, it speeds from past to future. Only my breath knows to stop this. I wrote the letter B and a 💚 on my hand today. Breath dear 💚 I say when I look at it. It’s a reminder that works.  I choose green for today. It stands for hope.

It’s so easy not to make the present moment count. Present moment? one can ask.  It’s not erasing what we have experienced, nor will my life be any easier or the future I envision for my daughter miraculously pop up.

But in the present moment, I get to choose what I want to pay attention to – the ordinary details of life are not ordinary. They hold the key to stop the train. And let hope raise again.

No, I’m not giving up. I stand in balance with my feelings, allowing them all.

Pausing does this. Are you pausing to breathe and feel?

Remember what you love and why!





Sarina six weeks old