Stories from The River Runs Through
Coffee. Creativity. Ceremony. The land. Becoming.
And the occasional story about something I probably should have known better than to attempt.
There are stories about the things we make, the things we inherit, the things that surprise us, and the things that change us.
Come wander awhile.
It was raining. I went anyway.
Over the last year, being surrounded by trees has led me to explore "tree bathing." I took a course, read the manual, learned about terpenes and how trees communicate, and about the importance of simply being with them.
Somewhere in all of that was the suggestion that I spend a night among the trees.
Technically, this is my backyard.
But our backyard is kind of big.
And there is wildlife.
I liked the idea of a digital detox, artificial-light detox, a night of silence, and a deeper relationship with this land.
I was intrigued.
I was also hesitant.
The hesitation wasn't about running water or using the bathroom outside. We lose power regularly here in Maine. I've adapted.
It was the coyotes.
And, if I'm honest, my limited experience sleeping outside.
The Sound of Remembering
People often ask me about the drums.
Or the rattles.
Or why I hold Moon Gatherings.
Sometimes the question is spoken.
Sometimes it's simply the look on their face.
"Isn't this all a little...different?"
Maybe.
Artist, Interrupted?
I remember the yellow ribbon. It hung beside my picture when I was in second grade. It was my first art award. My piece, In My Backyard, elicited chuckles from my parents.
"Whose backyard is that?" they both asked, looking at the 11x14 sheet of red construction paper with black cut-outs of people and a swing set.
"Isn't that ours?" I remember thinking, though I never said it out loud.
Suffice it to say, it was my version of my backyard.
In sixth grade, I created my first acrylic painting. I used little glass jars of paint on a bumpy 4x6 sheet of paper that came with the kit. I painted poinsettias, and my teacher submitted it to the city's art competition—open to every student from Kindergarten through twelfth grade in Medford, Massachusetts. I was named Artist of the Month. My parents were confused. You see, I wasn't supposed to be an artist.
How Ceremony Found Me
I did, sort of, become a wedding officiant accidentally.
Although maybe it's more accurate to say I had a dream and decided, why wait?
The truth is, ceremony found me long before I ever signed the paperwork.
I've always been drawn to ceremony and ritual. They are a big part of what kept me tethered to church long after I'd decided the book of stories was, well... mostly a book of stories.
But I loved what happened around those stories.
I think I first discovered the power of ceremony while preparing for my own First Communion. It wasn't just about wearing a white dress or standing in church. I had a speech to memorize. I learned how to say the Mass. I practiced reading in front of others—skills that felt incredibly important at the time and ones I would rarely ever use again.
Although, looking back, life has a funny way of preparing us for things we don't yet understand.
More than anything, I remember the feeling.
I remember knowing this wasn't just another Sunday. Something important was happening. A moment was being marked. My family would gather. I would step into something new.
It was my first experience of ceremony—the first time I understood that some moments deserve to be witnessed.
When You're Going Through It
Rob has a definition for comedy:
Pain plus time.
Honestly, I find that almost as funny as the pain itself.
In time.
We all have those stories. Those moments that were absolutely, unequivocally not funny while they were happening.
Women, do we not all have a period story? And does it not almost always involve wearing white?
My only saving grace with my most embarrassing period story was that I was wearing black.
Trust me. It was still bad.
How Hard Could It Be?
With our first Moon Gathering happening tomorrow and my first campout—all by myself—tonight, I thought this morning, I'll take the day off.
No baking. No inventory. No setting up online shopping. No linking a new POS system. You know, the things one does when opening a Farmhouse Store & Coffee Shop in a renovated milk shed.
I really like the saying—although it might actually be a proverb—“You make plans and God laughs.”
Wow, was that ever true today.
What Gets Lost in Translation?
I remember reading that, in the 1970s, mainstream doctors were hesitant to use the word meditation. They worried that if they did, both they and the practice would be dismissed as “woo-woo.”
I rolled my eyes.
Even twenty years ago, meditation and yoga were still making their way into the mainstream. And most people didn’t believe you could make a living doing“woo-woo”.
Now, many of those same mind-body practices are evidence-based.
Go figure.
I find myself in a similar place now.
Although, to be fair, I am not rolling my eyes.
At least not outwardly.
What Is It With Lawns?
It's not that I don't appreciate a well-manicured lawn.
There is something lovely about a wide expanse of green grass that feels soft and cushy under your feet. In the spring, dandelions can create an impressive sea of yellow—although I know many people respond to this natural phenomenon with considerably less enthusiasm.
The dandelions, apparently, are winning.
As Kitty and I were outside today, I was pulling weeds—or, more accurately, pulling grass—from one of the garden rows we planted this summer. I noticed leaves, dried branches, and various other things scattered through the row.
Including a hose.
It Looks Like It's Happening...
The River Runs Through's first Moon Gathering.
Of course, I shouldn't get ahead of myself. There's interest—granted, not the same interest as a Coldplay concert. 😊 But interest...and not just from our family members!
Clearly, there is something about getting together.
And getting together to give a little time and attention to observing the ebb and flow of the moon.
I remember the first time I truly observed the moon. Not that I hadn't seen it before (and, of course, believed it was following me everywhere—I'm still not entirely convinced it wasn't.), or noticed how bright it could be. But it wasn't until my first year of college that I really paid attention. One of our assignments was to track the moon through all of its phases. It was the first time I realized the moon shows up in the morning—and even in the afternoon. It was also when I first heard the words waxing and waning. I was captivated.
How I Accidentally Became a Wedding Officiant
Long before this became The River Runs Through, when it was simply twenty-nine acres, an old farmhouse, and a dream, I had already decided this was going to be a place where people gathered.
Some people dream about gardens.
Some dream about horses.
Apparently, I dreamed about weddings.
I've always been fascinated by them.
The dresses.
The flowers.
The invitations.
The table settings.
The old barns transformed into magical reception spaces.
The traditions.
The symbolism.
The promises.
That's a rather long list, which probably tells you two things.
All You Need to Know Can Be Learned on a Walk with a Cat
“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.”
I have been thinking about this quote lately.
As I continue learning more about Indigenous cultures and different ways of understanding our relationship with ourselves, one another, and the world around us, I have been thinking about what it means to live in balance.
Not perfectly.
Not by checking every box on some imaginary list of what a healthy, meaningful, spiritually evolved life is supposed to look like.
Simply:
Am I living in a way that feels aligned?
The Invitations We Don't Always Recognize
Yesterday, I invited someone into my office.
That may sound ordinary, except my office is a few steps away from our coffee shop, which is a few steps away from our home. Every so often, I look around and think, "This is a little unusual."
A therapy office next to a coffee shop? A farmhouse store surrounded by fields, woods, and a river? A place where someone might come for coffee, conversation, a workshop, a walk, or simply to sit?
And then I remember—maybe it isn't unusual at all.
Hummingbird
I was reminded of Hummingbird today.
A lovely woman came by with a man who has become a regular here at the coffee shop. We love seeing him enjoying the space, coffee in hand, just being here. She shared some of her experiences with Shamanism, including an immersive trip to Greece, and somewhere in the conversation she mentioned Hummingbird.
"For me," she said, "Hummingbird represents joy."
I smiled.
Here We Are
Yesterday was busy.
And, to be honest, stopping and noticing was only momentary. Still, I did it. I stopped. I looked around. I reflected in that moment, and thought...
Here we are.
It's funny how we spend so much of our lives working toward something, wondering if we'll ever get there, and then one day we look up and realize...
Here we are.
How the River Taught Me to Listen
There was a lot of baking today. Or perhaps more accurately, there was a lot of creating pieces that will eventually become something whole. Mixing dry ingredients. Preparing fillings. Letting dough rest. None of it looked like the finished product, yet every piece mattered.
It reminded me that life has unfolded much the same way.
Before I understood psychology, before I understood trauma, before I understood healing, I was simply a little girl who paid attention.
Moon Circle Gatherings
What if, once each month, we simply paused?
Paused long enough to notice the moon overhead, the changing seasons around us, and what is quietly changing within us.
Moon Circle is a monthly gathering to reconnect—with ourselves, one another, and the natural world. Together we'll reflect, meditate, create, share (if you choose), and honor the rhythms that have guided humanity for thousands of years.
The Magic of a Quiet Day
Yesterday was wonderfully busy.
Today was wonderfully quiet.
I imagine that's how the universe keeps us humble. Just when you think you've figured things out, it hands you a quiet day and says, "Go make something."
So I baked.
I'm not entirely sure where my love of baking began. Maybe it was my Easy-Bake Oven, which somehow convinced an entire generation of children that a light bulb was a perfectly reasonable heat source.
I mostly remember what went wrong.
The frosting that somehow became marshmallow.
The cakes that could have doubled as coasters.
The pizza dough came from a box because I hadn't yet learned that yeast can't be hurried. Bread has its own schedule, and it has absolutely no interest in ours.
Come to think of it...neither does life.
The First Truly Magical Day
We've had good days at The River Runs Through.
We've had surprising days. Rainy days. "What were we thinking?" days.
Today was different.
Today was the first day that felt...magical.
Ironically, it began with our bathroom.
A New Aura Spray Has Been Born
A new Aura Spray has been born.
If you're wondering, "What exactly is an Aura Spray?" don't worry—you've joined the club.
Before I stepped into the world of shamanism, I'd never even heard of one. Smudging? Sure. Burning herbs and smoke, I understood. But a spray?
Then someone mentioned Florida Water.
That didn't help at all.
A Website with a Big Job
Our website has a ridiculously big job.
It's home to our coffee shop, farmhouse store, professional counseling practice, workshops, retreats, weddings, shamanic gatherings...and soon, a couple of cabins and yurts. Frankly, we're asking a lot of one website.
It's where you'll find our fair-trade coffee, thoughtfully sourced from small farmers around the world, vegan baked goods, handmade gifts from artisans near and far, and many of the things I make myself—from skincare and aura sprays to artwork, drums, and rattles.
It's also where you'll learn about my work as a Licensed Professional Counselor. Over the past 25 years, my practice has grown from traditional cognitive therapies to mind-body approaches and eventually into shamanic practices. Turns out, learning never really ends.
The River Runs Through is more than a coffee shop.