Category: Blog Posts

Why Every Ending Is Also a Beginning

What comes to mind when you think of graduation? How many times have you graduated? And how many milestones still lie ahead?

Before looking forward, it helps to reflect on the graduations you’ve already experienced.

Today, graduations are celebrated for many things. I remember hearing about a preschool graduation and thinking, “What is the world coming to?”

The milestone graduations I remember most are high school and college. High school marks the culmination of twelve years of maturing, changing, and finally reaching the finish line. A first grader does not think about high school — unless you have a very unusual first grader. If so, that child is likely to sprint rather than run the marathon.

Twelve years is a long time, and the journey is worth celebrating. You have worked hard — or not. You have had success — or not. You have changed in ways you could not have imagined at the beginning.

Your brain has changed. Your body has changed. You are not the same person who started this marathon.

And yes, the first twelve years of education are a marathon.

There is some preparation at the start. Your parents taught you colors and numbers, and hopefully how to be polite to grown‑ups. Though I’ve heard that some children now enter first grade without knowing their colors or numbers. Help.

Midway through, your body undergoes dramatic changes. Uncertainty follows, but such change is normal. A college friend once said she spent a summer “growing in bed.” Adapting to these changes — physical and mental — is essential, though brain development is a topic for another day. Ideally, you now embrace your new body and have challenged it. Maybe you’ve built muscle, experimented with style, and adjusted your wardrobe.

High school graduation is a milestone. From here, you can go in many directions: college, the armed services, the labor force, volunteer organizations, gap years, or study abroad. You have choices, and hopefully one of them will launch you out of the nest and into the world.

Some will not make it and will return to the nest for a relaunch. Sadly, a few will not make it at all.

This launch is one of many. Graduation marks transitions — college, work, relationships, and new journeys. Each graduation leads to another.

For more reflections on life transitions, identity, and emotional development, explore articles on Psychology Today and research from Greater Good Science Center.

If you are navigating a transition — or preparing for a new “graduation” in your own life — therapy can help you understand the emotions, expectations, and possibilities that come with change. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support clarity, resilience, and growth.

How Simple Creations Like A Cootie Catcher Reveal Memory, Meaning, and the Power of Imagination

Do you know what a “cootie catcher” is?

Your brain may be wondering why that memory surfaced — and that’s exactly the point. The mind stores experiences in surprising places. Something you encountered decades ago can lie dormant, then suddenly leap into the present without warning. That is the story of the cootie catcher. It simply appeared.

These little creations are folded miracles. How can a single sheet of paper become a cone-like device with hidden hinges, secret messages, and finger‑powered movement? How? Ask a kid. Truly — ask a kid. They know. They always know.

And somehow, these paper devices promise to predict your future.

Their origin is likely Japanese or perhaps English, though the connection to origami makes Japan the stronger candidate. The art of folding paper into intricate designs is beautiful, and the cootie catcher’s history dates back to the 17th century. The word “cootie” may be related to “kutu,” meaning a dog trick — though how it came to imply catching imaginary bugs remains a mystery. What matters is the delight: a simple square of paper creating mystery, laughter, and connection.

Often, the simplest things we do carry the most meaning for those around us.

When my father was seriously ill in the hospital, I made origami birds and placed them around the room and on his bed. Their sense of flight, lightness, and color brought comfort to our family and the nursing staff. Soon, the nurses began tucking them into the curtain rail above the bed. Before long, the room felt filled with wings.

Our imaginations unfold in ways that create beauty, lightness, and even strength.

The cootie catcher also goes by chatterbox, whirlybird, or salt cellar — the last name reflecting how the origami figure first appeared in the United States. In the 1928 book Fun with Paper Folding, the “salt cellar” was shown inverted from how we use it today. The points became legs, and the finger spaces opened to hold and pour salt.

One simple fold. Endless possibilities.

For more reflections on memory, creativity, and the psychology of simple joys, explore articles on Psychology Today and research from Greater Good Science Center.

If you are exploring how childhood memories, imagination, or small moments shape your emotional life, therapy can help you understand and deepen those connections. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional insight, resilience, and growth.

What Childhood Fields, Forest Floors, and Vanishing Forests Teach Us

Yesterday, I heard a speaker talk about flower arranging for large banquets and public spaces. As the complicated designs flashed on the screen, I found myself thinking about the fields of flowers I remember from childhood. Driving down a country road, you would inevitably come across a field or wooded area where the ground was covered with wildflowers. No one planted them. Their seeds traveled on the wind, carried from one bloom to the next as each completed its life cycle.

If you are lucky enough to live near a wooded area, you may have walked among the trees and seen the variety of wildflowers carpeting the forest floor. Lily of the Valley was my favorite as a little girl — tiny bells dangling from bent stems, moving ever so slightly under the weight of the blossom. The scent was a sweet lemon with a hint of soap.

Virginia bluebells are also lovely. They are prolific in Virginia, and Thomas Jefferson even referenced them in his writing. They begin as pink buds and shift to blue as they open. Their scent is light and sweet, and they tend to cluster together like any Southern family.

I also love many of the larger wildflowers — coneflowers, wild daisies, and lupines. Lupines stand tall, announcing their presence with spikes of blue blossoms swaying in the breeze. And I have always appreciated that Lady Bird Johnson championed the planting of wildflowers along the Interstate Highways. Sprinting down the highway becomes a delight as you try to identify the colorful display as you pass.

When was the last time you took a walk in the woods?

Unfortunately, the woods are slowly disappearing. Deforestation is increasing as global food demand rises. Forests are being cleared for large-scale industrial crops — soybeans, cattle operations, and other agricultural expansions. As the world population grows, the need for food increases. Soon, we may find ourselves in a crowded world without the ecosystems that sustain us.

Global forests provide life-sustaining ecosystems for all of us. As we remove them, we risk our own extinction.

You may not realize the critical role forests play. They recycle nutrients and produce oxygen — the very thing we need to breathe. Forests are the “lungs” of the world. We have already lost one-third of this protective forest cover, and there are no plans to replace it. Imagine removing one-third of your own lungs. Breathing would become nearly impossible. We would each be trailing an oxygen tank.

Not only have we lost the habitat for wildflowers — we have also lost the habitat for ourselves.

For more reflections on nature, memory, and the psychology of environmental connection, explore articles on Psychology Today and research from Greater Good Science Center.

If you are exploring how environmental loss, childhood memories, or the natural world shape your emotional life, therapy can help you understand and integrate those experiences. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional clarity, resilience, and connection.

WHAT IS WORTH DOING, EVEN IF YOU THINK YOU MIGHT FAIL?

Risk, Purpose, and the Quiet Power of Courage

Failure isn’t the opposite of success—it’s often the path to it. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how meaningful risk-taking stretches our emotional capacity, deepens our purpose, and invites us to live more fully.

We all set goals for ourselves. Writing this blog is one of my goals. Collecting 52 blogs into a journal book was another one of my goals, which I have now completed. Another is finishing a book about raising boys with access to the full range of their feelings. Every hour that I spend with a client has a goal at the outset: to listen and guide the client to learn more about themselves and, in so doing, build understanding that leads to skills that will translate into beneficial action. These goals have been chosen with an eye to my expertise, leading me to expect success. The question above is very different.

If I expect failure, will I do it anyway? Will I risk failure? Reflecting on that is truly sobering.

Most of us take risks that I call safe.

When we truly risk failure, what drives the process?

Contemplating that question requires a deep dive into my psyche. Who am I? How can I discern a serious risk? Oh, of course, there are things I would never attempt, like walking a tightrope between the Twin Towers. The man who did that has an entirely different makeup from me. But what is my equivalent challenge?
Let’s examine the elements of such a challenge. First, it has to be within the range of my physical capability. If I am in a wheelchair, I am not doing the tightrope.

Second, it has to stretch my abilities to the limit. Philippe Petit, a tightrope walker, had the skill set to attempt a walk between the Twin Towers. He also had the experience of studying the elements of such a feat and planning carefully. Third, I must have a motive for placing this challenge before me. I need a reason to sustain the planning and motivation. So, taking on a challenge is serious business. Fourth, I have to be willing to risk failure, which can sometimes mean risking death.

Amelia Earhart comes to mind immediately. She was a financially comfortable woman, committed to a relationship, successful professionally, and well-known as a supporter of women’s causes. Her life looks fulfilling and influential. Yet, she takes on the challenge of a solo flight around the world. Being the first woman to accomplish this was her big enough “why” and she had the skill set. The task certainly challenged her to the limit. Despite her failure, she is admired for her attempt. She is a model for other women to take risks and set challenging goals.

What is worth doing, even if you think you might fail?

Want to explore how risk-taking fuels emotional growth and resilience? Visit UW Medicine’s guide to learning from failure, A Conscious Rethink’s reflections on risk and regret, and BetterUp’s strategies for taking risks that pay off.

If you’re reflecting on courage, purpose, or emotional growth, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight, healing, and bold living.

What Our Gardens Reveal About Memory and Meaning

Have you ever thought that your gardener friends are telling stories? As I look at the gardens in the yards throughout my neighborhood and town, I can see a collection of stories being told.

Some garden beds are laid out in strict rows, with flowers rising in ascending heights, all the way up to the azaleas that dot this world. The low growers come first, hugging the ground and wandering around: Ajuga, Bellflowers, Vinca, Lily of the Valley. They offer beautiful color and luscious scent while barely leaving the ground.

Then come the bulbs. Daffodils appear in a stunning range of shapes and colors. Did you know there are at least 32,000 registered varieties of daffodils? Imagine planting each one in your yard. Then there are the irises, with their tall stems and elegant blooms—many of them fragrant, delighting the nose as much as the eye.

Add some Delphiniums or Foxgloves for height and drama, and maybe even a few Hollyhocks. I love those in particular because you can use the blooms to create little dolls with flowing skirts.

And of course, everything must be topped off with azalea bushes. They are gorgeous and come in so many colors. You can choose a theme or mix them all together. Trim them into shape or let them go wild. They delight the eye regardless.

Some gardens, however, are wonderfully chaotic. I pass a home where the entire front yard is a jumble of flowers. There is no order, no coordination. It looks as though a flower cart exploded, scattering seeds everywhere. Yet I find it delightful.

Flowers say, “Welcome. I’m glad you stopped by.” Yes, they require work and attention. You may need to fertilize them, thin them out, or replace the ones the bunnies dig up or the deer nip off. But those are small nuisances compared to the beauty, scent, and joy that flowers bring.

Flowers mark occasions. A wedding would not be the same without the bridal bouquet and pew decorations. A birthday bouquet always brings a smile. And Mother’s Day practically demands flowers—perhaps even an orchid. The beauty of the orchid is that it will continue to grow and rebloom, offering beauty again and again.

Flowers make a statement. They say, “Welcome,” “I love you,” or “I miss you.” They deliver warmth, as though the person just stepped in the door and will stay for a cup of tea. They bring back memories and project us into the future. They tell of our past and accompany us into our future, even to the end.

For more reflections on meaning, memory, and emotional connection, explore Psychology Today and research from Greater Good Science Center.

If you are exploring the stories your own life is telling—or noticing how past experiences shape your present—therapy can help you understand and deepen those connections. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional clarity, healing, and growth.

Why We’re Drawn To Connection and Our Love of Water

I am a lover of fountains. My attachment to them is undeniable, though its source is unclear. The sound and feel of water falling down a rocky pathway draw me in, hinting at a deeper connection.

The patio outside has a fountain. The deck off the kitchen has one too. Even the sunroom features a lovely volcanic rock fountain with a stone basin. We’ve put a little boat in that one just for fun.

Reflecting on this, I suspect the sound of moving water must be a throwback to the embryonic stage. We all begin in a pool of liquid that shifts and sways as the mother moves. Perhaps that is why young children are drawn to water. They love to splash in the pool, run through sprinklers, and float on a pond. The classic image of children swinging on a rope over a river brings an instant smile. We are all drawn to water.

Of course, some children have been made afraid of water, yet I believe the natural tendency is still to enjoy playing with it. The garden hose is often used to water your friends instead of the lawn. Becoming competent in the water is a goal for many parents of small children. I love seeing a small class of toddlers with floaty armbands in the shallow end of the pool for their beginner lessons. Just getting your head wet can be a challenge.

Our inborn affinity for water is only one example of our natural drive for connection. From the moment we are born—bonded to another person—we spend our lives seeking meaningful relationships in many different places.

The connection can be as simple as the neighborhood listserv. Through this invention, I am connected to the community. I can find a gardener referral, give away concert tickets I cannot use, and connect with a teenager to shovel the driveway and sidewalks. Professional websites connect me with colleagues and alert me to seminars and continuing education that keep me sharp. All manner of entertainment is at your fingertips on your cell phone. Clips that last a minute or two, and seminars that run for hours, are right there in your lap.

Knowledge and entertainment flow into my life just like the water in my fountains—constantly connecting me to my surroundings, to others, and to myself.

For more reflections on emotional connection and human behavior, explore articles on Psychology Today and research from Greater Good Science Center.

If you are exploring your own patterns of connection—or longing for deeper ones—therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional awareness, grounding, and meaningful relationships.

I WANT TO BE SEEN

Visibility, Connection, and the Emotional Need to Matter

To be seen is to be known—and to be known is to belong. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how emotional visibility shapes our earliest experiences, our relationships, and our sense of self-worth.

Has this thought ever popped into your mind? This desire to be known, to be seen, is natural. We all crave attention. Our early survival depends on this. We come into the world completely helpless. I don’t know of any other creature as impotent as a newborn human. We could examine this fact at some other time, but right now, we want to focus on this desire to be seen.

When we are seen, we have the opportunity for connection. We are born connected to another human being and spend our lives seeking connection with others. When you realize this, you understand we are all connected and interdependent. Few of us can survive without this connection. You may read about the occasional hermit found deep in the forest and living off the land, but that guy is weird. And yes, I hear your question. It is a guy. There have been recorded cases of female hermits, but most are isolated for religious reasons.

Humans naturally seek connection with others. Physical survival is the initial need, yet well-known cases show that physical care is insufficient. The Spitz babies are a clear example: physically cared-for infants died for lack of social/emotional connection. We all need an emotional connection with others. The Spitz research on well-cared-for infants who die because of a lack of emotional connection is classic.

One piece of information that needs more focus is the fact that mothers have an emotional connection with the fetus. As this person grows inside, the mother pays close attention and is engaged in the emotional and physical care of this ever-developing being. Most of our focus has been on the physical care necessary for the fetus to thrive; however, this growing being needs and benefits from emotional care as well. Our bodies are truly sensitive to emotional care. Research with adults in medical situations shows that the presence of a loving spouse or friend speeds up physical healing. The mother’s interest in and connection to the fetus has a significant impact on this little being in utero. From the first awareness of a pregnancy, this little being is known and seen. Mothers and fathers communicate with the fetus and spend emotional energy focusing on this growing person. The fetus hears music from headphones placed on the mother’s belly. The fetus has stories read to it. Fathers’ attention is present in physical touch and verbal messages sent to this growing being.

You were seen long before you were visible.

Want to explore how emotional visibility and human connection shape well-being? Visit Halos Counseling’s reflections on being seen, NeuroLaunch’s guide to human connection psychology, and Psychology Today’s insights on emotional interdependence.

If you’re reflecting on visibility, emotional connection, or relational healing, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight, healing, and belonging.

Early Lessons in Value, Generosity, and Self-Discipline

A piggy bank is more than a container for coins, it’s a container for lessons. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how childhood rituals of saving, sharing, and spending shape lifelong habits of generosity, foresight, and self-worth.

Did you have one of these as a child? The piggy bank is so popular among young children. They come in a variety of sizes and colors.

I remember a small pink pig as the place where I kept my pennies. The pig’s belly had a silver disc that could be removed by inserting a nickel into a slot and giving it a quarter turn. The irony of needing a nickel to access my pennies was not lost on me. I remember that the nickel came out of my father’s pocket and went back there after the pig gave forth his belly bounty.

Where did I get the pennies? Pennies were the reward for acts of service. These would range from putting away laundry that fit in the drawers, to setting the table with all utensils correctly placed and napkins in the right spot. Other on-demand tasks were abundant, so the piggy was well stocked.

When he gave forth his bounty, there were requirements for usage. One third went to savings, one third went to charity, and I could choose the charity, leaving one third for me to spend. That seemed like a good plan overall, though I must admit there were times when I wanted to hoard all of those pennies for a special treat. Spending those pennies was easy, since we had a local grocery store just a block away. We lived in an alleyway, and the grocery was right at the end of it. Easy peasy.

So, what were my favorite treats? Mainly, anything chocolate would do, and in the summer, I liked those ice-cold orange push-up things that stained your lips and your clothes if you were not careful. Trust me, I was cautious. That stuff would not come out of a shirt, no matter what you did.

Early lessons are essential, particularly when it comes to money. I do not think many piggy banks are floating around anymore, and I wonder if elementary students have that responsibility today. Those early decisions about how to use my pennies were valuable. The division my parents imposed prepared me to consider others’ needs, imagine my future needs, and satisfy myself in the present.

That is an excellent system for living life. I am important, others are important, and the future is important for both of us. The piggy bank served a purpose.

Want to explore how childhood lessons about money shape adult habits? Visit Psychology Today’s article on teaching kids about money and values and Greater Good’s guide to how childhood lessons shape generosity.

If you’re reflecting on early lessons, financial habits, or emotional growth, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support clarity, balance, and resilience.

TROGLODYTE

Language, Logic, and the Power of Discovery

Some words are puzzles—and some are provocations. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how childhood curiosity, linguistic play, and cultural context shape our understanding of identity and insult.

When you are a child, adults like to challenge or tease you. Sometimes, they do this with language. They present a word, and the tone that accompanies it communicates something powerful and perhaps hurtful. Then they ask you to explain. Let’s look at this one. Hmmm. Let’s say you are in elementary school between 1st and 4th grade. The sound of this word is interesting, so you begin there, thinking of similar sounds that are familiar: dog, frog. One hopes you don’t know grog yet, but one never knows. Given the associations that you know, some animal comes to mind. You think it must be big because the word is long. So far, good thinking. It matters not whether you are right or wrong. Your logic is sound, so you keep going.

The end of this word, “dyte,” must be significant. It sounds like an important word. Also, the spelling of this word seems important. Words with “y” in them tend to be fancy or old. So, you use your elementary school knowledge to wonder if this is an animal. You think of things that rhyme with it: might, sight, light. There are many possibilities, but rhyming doesn’t seem to fit. So, consider its shape: short, squat, even. As you say it out loud, your voice rises, and intensity comes automatically. Perhaps it is a powerful word. You almost want to move when you say it. There is something emphatic about the sound. Maybe it is some powerful animal from ancient times.

Now, let’s combine these ideas. We have an animal association that comes with power and a staccato ending with a punch. Perhaps this really is an animal of some kind. It could be an ancient animal that used to walk the earth but is no longer alive. That is an excellent guess because these long-vanished animals tend to have long, complicated names.

Perhaps this is an insult. I have heard it used in the past, and clearly, it is a putdown of the other. So, you challenge the adult who has presented this puzzle to you. You ask for some context or for them to use it in a sentence. “On the train coming home, I ran into a troglodyte who ran past me and pushed his way off the train.” Aha! I am on the right track. This is an insult! A troglodyte is a person who is rough or rude. I have solved the puzzle!

Want to explore the origins and cultural evolution of the word “troglodyte”? Visit Etymology World’s guide to troglodyte, Ultimate Lexicon’s breakdown of usage and meaning, and Merriam-Webster’s definition and examples.

If you’re reflecting on language, identity, or emotional impact, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight, healing, and self-expression.

What Scourges, and Other Hidden Threats, Reveal About Our Past and Ourselves

What comes to mind for you when you hear the word “scourge”?

My latest thought is lanternflies. They appeared last summer in the backyard, and at first I was fascinated by their bright, intricate markings. But then I read about them. These pests are native to Vietnam, China, and India, where natural predators keep them in check. Here in Maryland and Washington, DC, not so much. A friend believes local birds will eventually eat them, reducing their population. I worry it won’t happen soon enough to save my young birch trees.

Scourges have existed since the beginning of time, and some modern ones cause real havoc. The kudzu vine now blankets highways, trees, buildings, and power lines. Ironically, power lines might be better buried underground than left exposed.

A scourge is, in fact, an instrument of pain—a whip with added thongs to cut and tear flesh. Used for punishment or even self‑mutilation, these whips are brutal. Right now, I wish I could use one on those flies.

The word “scourge” can describe both a person and an instrument. When someone causes great suffering or destruction, we call them a scourge. Attila the Hun, for example, devastated people and property. Any dictator can be a scourge to those who suffer under their rule.

The lanternflies in my backyard likely arrived hidden in some edible cargo, such as fruit. They hid in plain sight. Our personal enemies can be the same—sometimes hiding right before us.

The parent meant to protect us can be monstrous and cruel. Cruelty may be overt—hitting and whipping—or covert, such as deception, undermining, or cloying solicitation that lulls us into comfort before betrayal. These histories get buried deep in our memories. Yet, even boxed up and unrecognized, they can leap into the present and throw us off.

A clear sign of the past resurfacing is repeated behavior that troubles you or a significant family member. When a behavior causes stress for others, the past is intruding. You want to uncover its history and squish it like a bug.

For more reflections on emotional development and the impact of past experiences, explore articles on Psychology Today and research from Greater Good Science Center.

If you recognize patterns resurfacing in your own life, therapy can help you understand where they began—and how to change them. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional healing and healthier relationships.