Award Winning Trainer/Facilitator, Author, & Activist

One international trip is all it takes for one to realize how localized your thought pattern truly is.

Prepping for a trip lead me to watch a video of a speech I gave back in 2012. In it I mention my Mom’s never wavering goal – “To give her children all they would need to go on even after she was gone.”  My eyes welled with tears as I realized that is what I do, in a non-condescending way each of my participants are my children. I use all I can to empower them, to get them to look inside, to get them to believe in themselves so they can go on strong and happy and proud even after I am gone.”

Who do admire the most?  The POWERHOUSE women – the women who show up with loud voices and great lipstick, the women with incredible mental ability and phenomenal fashion sense. These women take up space with no inclination to be reduced to a size zero.  They dare you to question what you think, what you say, and who you associate with.  They force you to be authentic by being unapologetically genuine in their words, in their appearance, and in their thought process.  They stand out.  They stand up.  They do not back down.  They do not shy away.  They do not disappear.

We must remember who we were before “the schools” or the teachings of the schools will continue to resonate in our lives and communities.

I have been thinking … and as as I think of this country, this city, the many communities I have the opportunity to visit, the many people I am blessed to meet, I cannot help but think that one of the worst things ever taught to the Indigenous people of this country … was acceptance.

The next time a Chief says “Enough!”, the next time a community takes back its true name, the next time an Indigenous person demands equal treatment or complains about a racist store clerk … stop and cheer.  Please cheer because what you are witnessing is healing, an Indigenous person breaking free of the past, an Indigenous person who has found their voice in spite of all that has transpired, an Indigenous person who dares to stand up.

My Mother has been my mentor, my friend, my nurse, my goal in life but as my own wisdom and self-awareness grew I began to look at the darkness that was so often behind her teachings.  I began to see the fears and pain she carried, the fear and pain she often deliberately passed down to me.  My Mom didn’t mean to hurt me.  She wanted to keep me safe.  Even if that meant clipping my wings and teaching me that I couldn’t fly.

The game continues, we go from one room to another, gathering tools and gifts along the way but at one point, as we are going down the hallway, we run out of energy.  The game is over.   What do you do?   At this point, the answer depends on how bad you want to win this game or not.  If you didn’t really care about winning, you put down the controller and go make a sandwich. BUT if you REALLY want to win … you restart and try again!

Before the comment, consider the person on the other side of your words.

I stand in my office and smile, feeling as if I am Santa standing in my workshop but I don’t create toys. I create exercises and seminars, poems and writings, all vehicles that take those I am blessed to work with on a journey to their greatest selves, driven by them, as fast or as slow as they wish to go. I love my office and I love my work!