I grew up in Nashville, sheltered by a wide canopy of family and friends. Though I didn't have words for it then, I now see my post-college drive for adventure as a function of seeking the balance to the anchored, colloquial flavor of my upbringing. 

While working in Kenya, I met my husband.  Eventually we settled in Atlanta where we raised our family and my insatiable curiosity for hearing other people’s life stories initially found a vocational home as a financial/insurance consultant, and later as a psychotherapist and spiritual director.  Leading retreats and encounters for the past 20 years continues to be an abundantly enlivening experience and has led me to repeatedly proclaim that all of us have earned the right to wear a T-shirt that says “I Am More Interesting Than I May Appear.” 

One of the things I value most is the memory of the delivery room, three times. Our children are young adults now and familiar tropes such as “Where did the time go?”  are apt to my experience.  Still, as I traverse midlife, I find more space opening for me to harvest and understand past experiences — and to view both difficult and tender passages through the more dimensional lens of time. As the poet Mary Oliver says, “Oh Lord….you are having such a long conversation in my heart.” Indeed.