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.
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.
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.
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.
How Is It Possible to Feel Better After Only 6–12 Sessions of The Threshold Process?
One of the most common questions people ask about The Threshold Process is:
“How can something shift so deeply in only 6–12 sessions?”
Especially in a culture where healing is often seen as long, endless, or dependent on years of processing, the idea of meaningful transformation in a relatively short period of time can feel surprising.
But healing is not always about the amount of time spent.
Often, it’s about the depth of presence, intention, safety, and embodiment within that time.
The Threshold Process was created to be focused, intentional, and transformational — not something designed to keep you dependent on the process indefinitely.
Healing Happens When We Feel Safe Enough to Change
Many people are not struggling because they “don’t know enough” about themselves. Often, they already understand their patterns intellectually.
The Threshold Process works on multiple levels at once — mind, body, nervous system, energy, and spirit. Because of this integrative approach, shifts can happen more quickly than talk therapy alone.
Rather than endlessly analyzing the wound, the work focuses on creating conditions where transformation can actually occur.
Why the Threshold Process Is Both Similar To — and Different From — Traditional Talk Therapy
There comes a moment in many healing journeys when insight is no longer enough.
You understand why you feel anxious, disconnected, exhausted, reactive, numb, or stuck — and yet your body still carries the weight of it.
This is often where traditional talk therapy reaches its edge, and where deeper embodied work begins.
The Threshold Process was created for that threshold: the space between understanding your wounds and truly transforming them.
The Power of Gratitude, Especially When Life Feels Hard
Gratitude can sound like a luxury when you are overwhelmed, grieving, exhausted, or simply doing your best to get through the day. In difficult seasons, it may even feel dismissive, like you are being asked to “look on the bright side” when what you really need is to be seen in the truth of what is happening.
But real gratitude is not pretending everything is fine. It is not bypassing pain. It is a steady, practical way to stay connected to what is still true, still supportive, and still alive inside you, even when life is heavy.
Gratitude does not erase hardship. It helps you meet it with more steadiness.
Why “no” is a complete sentence
Boundaries
Boundaries are not walls. They are clarity. They are how you protect your time, energy, and wellbeing so you can show up to your life with more steadiness, honesty, and care.
Many people struggle with boundaries because they confuse them with being harsh or selfish. In reality, a boundary is often an act of respect. It tells the truth about what you can and cannot do, and it prevents resentment from building in silence.
Wasting Energy on Worry: Anxiety in a Cuter Outfit
Worry often pretends to be helpful. It sounds like preparation, responsibility, and “staying on top of things.” But most of the time, worry is just anxiety dressed up to look productive.
It keeps your mind busy, but it rarely moves your life forward.
How Shamanic Practices Can Help You See Beyond the Ego
The ego is not “bad.” It is a protective identity structure built from experiences, roles, and survival strategies. The problem is that it can become the loudest voice in the room, convincing you that your thoughts, defenses, and stories are the full truth of who you are…