Until a year ago, Charlotte was my therapist. I use the word “my” loosely, as I hadn't had a session with her for close to four years. But she was the person I sobbingly met with when I was 18 years old and in the throes of depression, and with whom I built a relationship—fluidly moving in and out of contact—over the following decade. She was the first person to truly witness my pain, and what I gained from our relationship ultimately influenced me to pursue psychology and a helping profession.

Which is why I found it confusing that, when I got word that Charlotte had passed quickly from a stage four cancer diagnosis to her death, I didn't feel immediately sad. Like a movie montage, my mind went to all the harmonious things I knew to be true of Charlotte, and it brought a sure smile to my face.

She consistently pursued her passions. 

In addition to being a busy therapist, Charlotte was a professor of transpersonal psychology, a supervisor, a co-owner of a goat herd (yup), a student of spirituality, and above all a mother and grandmother—both in the flesh and as archetype. 

She could readily share knowledge of everything from biopsychology to enneagram personality types to dream analysis, and she did so with energy. Her bookshelves were sky high and their contents were not for show. She did the work that helped her do the work and you could feel that in her presence.

She felt strongly and loved fiercely. 

Some therapists are stoic, but if you told Charlotte a self-deprecating story she would laugh with you, and if you told her of harm done unto you would get angry on your behalf. She spoke of her family with compassion. and each member was reflected as a glimmer in her eye. When my sassy 20-year-old self learned that her zodiac sign was a triple-Scorpio and joked. “Your husband must like that,” she replied with a giggle, “My first husband didn't.” 

If all this sounds like too much to know about your therapist, that's because Charlotte was not one to color within the lines. She used her human-ness in order to relate to those seeking her help. (One of my absolute favorite memories is of the time I was early for my session and ran into her in line at Walgreens buying a pint of ice cream. If that ain't humanizing, I don't know what is) Had she not been so Charlotte-esque in her work, I would never have felt so confident that she wasn't leaving many regrets on this earth, a fact that she later confirmed.


Death is one of those universally reliable experiences, but how we respond to it varies based on so many factors. What I'm finding to be true is that the stronger I perceive that the person who I have lost was living how s/he wanted to be living, the less complicated my grief becomes. When my heart resonates with the pain, regrets, and have-nots of the person I've lost, it weighs heavy, anchoring me to a deeper despair.

I find there are a few things we can do with observations like these, the first being to take inventory of how we are living, and to make alignments as needed. Are we pursuing our passions, feeling our feelings, loving as completely as possible, and staying true to our own rules? If not, what can we do to move ourselves in the direction of yes?

The other way I find the various responses to death to be helpful is by tuning in and being available to others' messages about their life satisfaction. Instead of passively listening as friends and loved ones mention certain things that they would like to be better or different, we can inquire about how to make such things happen.

And of course, the final way is to make sure your people know how you feel about them, through words or gesture. With Charlotte, I was thankful that I had been in communication with her over the years, despite not sitting across from her. 


Charlotte's memorial came a couple months later and there I found my sadness. It came in a wave of tears similar to those that fell when I first met her, and my face twitched in ways I never knew it could as I listened to those celebrate what they knew of her. I spoke before the packed room and trembled as I told everyone exactly how I felt, exactly what Charlotte meant to me, and exactly how bad I felt that none of us would get to sit with her again. 

My sadness was certainly uncomplicated. It was the primal shaky loss of someone I loved - no more, no less. 

As I left the room I was handed a small laminated card that displayed a lovely two-inch picture of Charlotte's smiling face, below it a quote. I read the card and smiled, thinking thank you Charlotte, for being so inspirationally and stubbornly you, and for showing us when it is truly okay to have the last word. It read:

“I have done everything I wanted to do in this life. It is so very important that people know my passing is not something tragic but part of my journey. You all mean so much to me.”

Over the last decade, I have flirted with countless physical, emotional, and spiritual health niches. From yoga to cardio; from depth psychology to mindfulness-based stress reduction; from acupuncture to reiki; And from Weight Watchers to The Brain Diet, I truly have been playing the field. Some I sized up and let go, others I spent more quality time with. Those I deemed worthy, I introduced to friends and, when appropriate, to clients. What I've learned is that there are a few solid rules that are helpful to abide by, no matter what area of health and healing you are considering allowing into your life.

1. Focus on the positive.

You get better results when you  focus on adding something constructive to health rather than on subtracting something undesirable:

Add a 30-minute walk to your day, a 60-minute class to your week, or a 10-minute stretch before bed (instead of aiming to watch fewer hours of television).

Add more deeply colored vegetables to your plate, more vitamins and minerals from various food sources and more local and seasonal produce (as opposed to subtracting processed foods and meals that offer high calories and low nutrients).

It may feel doable to add a 5-minute mindfulness exercise upon waking, to start the conversation (with yourself or others) about calling a therapist, or to write a daily affirmation on a post-it note (instead of trying to will yourself to feel less anxious, sad, or self-critical).

We have a tendency to erroneously assume that concentrating on what we don't want will keep us focused on our goals, when the focal point often remains on the very thing we don't want (and its accompanying entourage of feelings—Guilt, Shame, Irritation, and Co.). Try adding what you do want and notice how that nudges the undesirables out of your life. 

2. Go slow and be prepared for the discomforts of detoxification.

If someone had been using alcohol or heroine on a daily basis and simply stopped, he would be at-risk, not of discomfort, but of death. This is because the body grows dependent on the substance to keep its balance. Remove that substance and the body doesn't know what to do with itself. One needs proper pacing and supervision to safely detox.

While not necessarily as severe, the same concept goes for changing health habits of any kind. Whatever you have been doing—eating low-fiber foods, being more sedentary than you desire, or calling yourself nasty names—you have likely been doing it for a while. And while the negative affects are there, you have adjusted to them.

By engaging in something different you are going to purge and that purge just might be nasty before it's awesome. I invite you to imagine what would happen if you suddenly ate the recommended amount of servings of fruits and vegetables after you've been living a life full of mashed potatoes, or if you up and ran a marathon after years of not being able to touch your toes. What if, in one sitting, you suddenly let in all the hurt you'd been holding back? Each of these scenarios would lead to some form of system overload and feelings of dis-ease.

So do yourself a favor, and go slow. If you are noticing that you need help with pacing, shove an elbow in Pride or Shame's side, and ask for it. If you don't, they might introduce you to their friend Self-Sabatoge, who is a sneaky and powerful force, and tends to show up right when you are on the verge of something pivotal. Whether you are attending to your health as a solo project or with support(s), the simple act of remembering that unpleasantness may be part of the process can go very far in sustaining positive growth.

3. Kiss and tell appropriately.

It is exciting to find something that works for you. Like really exciting. Kind of like falling in love, you may be tempted to shout from the mountaintop “Pilates changed my body”! Or, “My therapist just gets it”! The more woowoo domains are somehow even more compelling. “It turns out my heart chakra was just blocked! Yours may be too”!

I am obviously a huge proponent of spreading the word about self-care and health, especially in the more taboo domain of mental health. Just remember, everyone's process is different, as is their comfort level, as is their tolerance for unsolicited advice. Even starting a sentence with “What worked for me...” as opposed to “You should definitely try...” can go far in actually being able to share your message.

What I notice is that when we start paying attention to our health needs in a way that makes for meaningful changes, we walk around shining a little brighter. Let that light draw others to you, and then share your secrets.

Several months ago, as I was strolling through the Panhandle, I observed a scene that leaped into my heart at once. A birthday party for what looked like a four- or five-year-old was happening in the playground. A group of ten or so children, a few grown-ups in tow, were scurrying around, sliding, swinging, and generating that unmistakable shrieking, giggling sound of play. It was so normal that I would have walked right past had one little boy not caught my attention. He had climbed the short fence, so he had as much of an aerial shot as a 3-foot-tall person could have. With a wide-eyed look of concern he yelled, without a shred of self-consciousness, “WHAT IS EVERYBODY ELSE DOING”?! 

What is everybody else doing? Oh, you sweet boy, don't you see they are playing? They are playing with effortless flow, not with thought, and you will enjoy yourself more if you join them.

I slowed almost to a stop and touched my hand to my heart. I had been thinking a lot about how to increase my feelings of well-being, particularly around overall life balance and career. I had also been counseling so many people who were making decisions about their next life steps, and these steps were moving alongside similar ones of their peers. I had been noticing how complicated these thoughts and decisions were in and of themselves. Anytime we are wanting to move towards a decision, we make a lot of considerations: What do I want? What do I need? How will I get there? What strengths and experiences can I build upon? Who are my supports? There may be a lot of questions here, but answer them and you are on a path.

But what happens when we veer away from our own inquiries and start focusing heavily on what other people are doing? Well, the path can start winding around pretty quickly. What is Suzy so-and-so doing? She is starting her own business and teaching a class? She got into that school? She has two kids and never looks tired? What? Her baby sleeps through the night? She must be better/more energetic, yet still calmer/more evolved/smarter/more driven/genetically superior than me.

Before you know it, you are lost and your only company are the stories and self-judgments you have generated. You forget that you are not Suzy so-and-so, with whom you share only partially similar fields of interest. You aren't really interested in going back to school, and you don't even have a baby, much less one with inferior sleeping patterns. And yet here you are emotionally perched on a fence screaming at the top of your lungs!

So how do you get down? Start by remembering the lesson you were taught in elementary school: Keep your eyes on your own work. Say this sentence to yourself with the tone of a gentle, compassionate teacher, not of a scolding one. Consider that focusing on others may be your way to avoid focusing on yourself, but still Keep your eyes on your own work. Allow yourself to be inspired by those around you, and Keep your eyes on your own work.

Non-creepy adult that I am, I did not linger at the playground that day to see what became of the boy, but I imagine that he found his way down, one step at a time, perhaps with a supportive hand. He may have spotted something he liked and joined in on a game of tag, or he may have found a great spot to build something in the sand. But even in my not knowing, I am confident that his plight was impermanent, that he did not stay on the fence. And I am equally confident that each of our moments of turmoil has the potential to be of use to others in the world if we are as willing as that boy was to be open.