Blog

The blog includes articles I have written over the last few years, as well as a weekly post  where I share what’s on my mind, even if it’s an undeveloped idea that popped up when I was stirring a vat of cheese! 

Jealousy: Siblings, Transitions, Repair

It is a new year, and I thought it would be fitting to start us off with a “feel-good” blog. You might ask “feel good? Judging from the title, I don’t think

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Survival of the Friendliest: Generations, Hope, Together

When I heard that my tech team is out for a hard-earned vacation next week, I realized I would not be able to send out a video. I thought about what I

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Transformations: Loss, Hope, Succeed at Last

One of my few childhood memories is from when I was probably not quite three years old. We were on some sort of family outing, walking through a park in New York.

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Winds and Change: Sound, Tempest, Hope

Growing up I wondered if everyone has a constant musical backbeat playing in their heads like I do, a DJ who never takes a day off, always keeping me company. I rather

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Losing and Winning: Trauma, Flight, Mysteries

I rarely work with eating disorders, if I can help it. My own history was so painful, shame-ridden and protracted, that I fear I will not have the patience or sufficient compassion

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Zero to 70: Oxford, Time, Justice

When I asked one of my esteemed colleagues at the Transform Trauma Oxford 2025 Conference if he would be in the Bay Area (where I live) any time soon, he said he

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Stalled but Not “Stuck” – Slogging, Baking and Care

Certain words I have torn out of my personal lexicon and just tossed. One of those is “stuck.” It is not allowed in my office either. True, sometimes progress is so slow

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Voice and Spine: Trees, Feet, Upward

Way back when I was in graduate school, which seems like eons ago (it was the middle 1980’s), I studied the work of an attachment researcher named Stephen Johnson. That is Stephen

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To Be Or…Invisible, Parts, Integration

When I was in ninth grade, my English class planned a field trip to the theater to see Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House. Strange how all this detail has endured in memory.

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