Category: Blog Posts

The Quiet Moments That Shape Who We Become

Kindness is rarely loud, but it is unforgettable. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how small gestures of care become some of the most enduring memories we carry.

When you see that word, kindness, what pictures pop into your head? We think in words, actions, and images. Today, I am asking you to go into your picture or movie storage and see which piece of history comes to mind when you think of kindness. This storage unit could be quite full.

The neighbor who beckoned you onto their front porch when a sudden downpour caught you a block away from home and saved you from getting drenched.

The stranger who stopped to help you fix a flat tire when you were not really sure how to use those metal tools in the trunk.

The friend who gave you a ride when you were recovering from a hospital stay and were not supposed to drive.

The school bus driver who rescued you from being teased and brought some order to the ride to school.

What has popped into your brain? Isn’t your brain a great storehouse? Packed into that small space in your head are movies and tape recorders of all kinds of experiences that you have had. I tend to believe that your brain holds onto everything, and given the right prompts and time, you can access any memory from the past. Past experiences shape who we are in the present. Some small, powerful experiences from when you were very little can resurface in the present and influence how you feel and behave.

Kindnesses are especially important memories.

What motivates us to be kind to someone? The very fact that we are born physically connected to another person is part of this natural tendency. Our connection at birth sets us up to seek connection and value it. Of course, as infants, we are dependent on connection. As our parents or other adults care for us, we are building a storehouse of experiences about connection and caring. Those experiences have to be floating around in our brains somewhere.

We say our heartstrings get tugged when we feel compassion for others. That is a marvelous image. Our hearts have strings, perhaps like streamers you find at parties and celebrations. Or like the soft, melodious strings of a harp, making beautiful music for others to enjoy.

The act of noticing another person and offering help seems universal. We naturally tend to care about our fellow human beings. We may not always be able to act on those feelings, but they seem to flow naturally from us.

Want to explore more about compassion, connection, and the psychology of kindness? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on empathy and emotional development and Greater Good’s research on the science of kindness.

If this reflection stirs something in you—memories, questions, or a desire to reconnect with your own capacity for kindness—therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional growth, connection, and well‑being.

SPIDER WEBS

Fragility, Flexibility, and the Wisdom of Interconnection

Spider webs aren’t just traps—they’re metaphors for resilience. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how webs mirror emotional flexibility, survival, and the quiet strength of connection.

How do you feel about spiders? I know that many people fear them; others admire them; some study them; others write about them. Most of you will be familiar with Charlotte’s Web, the childhood story. Wilbur the pig is at risk. His life is in danger. He is the runt of the litter. His size will determine his fate. The farmer is bound to chop his head off.

How many of us are runts? How many of us would be at risk for extermination early in life? Maybe I am one of those. Perhaps you are one of those. Wilbur was small. His likelihood of survival was small. Feeding him or spending time caring for him was going to be intense and take more time and energy. The farmer wanted to be efficient. He knew that the best fate for Wilbur and the farm, in general, was to eliminate that pig so others could receive more attention and grow in strength.

Fortunately, we do not take this approach to humans. Or should I say that, in general, we do not take this approach to humans? I know that historians would disagree with me here, as there have been numerous attempts to eliminate classes of people: Nazi Germany, Bosnia, Rwanda, Darfur, etc.

The reality of killing innocents makes us identify with Wilbur and champion his survival. Interestingly, the most diminutive creature in the barn, which many of us also fear, becomes Wilbur’s champion. The spider becomes the leader in the barn and organizes everyone to support Wilbur and see him triumph. The spider weaves a web in the corner of the doorway, where it catches the breeze and serves as the perfect trap for bugs to feed her brood.

Carefully inspecting her web will reveal that the silk strands blow gently in the wind. These threads are strong and supple. Often, they are challenging to see. Perhaps that is a part of their ability to capture insects to feed the young spiders.

Webs can be strong and supple. The individual strands of silk move in the wind and grip each other simultaneously. A spider web is strong. At the same time, the silky strands can move and flex, their strength holding firm in the face of assaults. The web does not have to be solid or rigid. The web can flex and bend while it maintains its integrity. When the web is stressed, it moves and bends. The web can expand in the face of stress.

Each of us needs to be more web-like. In the face of stress, we need to be flexible. We need to be open in the face of motion that nudges us to change. We need to have open spaces in our minds to face emotions that would otherwise shut us down. The web has wisdom for us if we are open to it.

Want to explore how spider webs symbolize emotional resilience and spiritual connection? Visit Hidden Significance’s guide to spider web symbolism, The Indie Spiritualist’s reflections on spider webs and ancestral wisdom, and InnerHunches’ breakdown of spider web strength and flexibility.

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

How One Avenue Became the Nation’s Front Porch

Every town has a main street. Some are even named Main Street. It’s the simplest way to mark the center of a community, straightforward, practical, and easy to remember.

I am sure that you know this site. Every town has a main street. Some are even called Main Street. This makes sense. When naming things, particularly when laying out a town, keep it simple. Streets going north and south get names. Streets going east and west get numbers. Simple. The street that runs through the center of the town is, of course, Main Street.

The one outstanding exception is Washington, D.C. The main street in this town is Pennsylvania Avenue.

Pennsylvania Avenue connects the White House, home of the President, to the United States Capitol, home of the House of Representatives and the Senate, representing the people.

This grand avenue was designed by the Frenchman who laid out the Capitol. Pierre Charles L’Enfant actually designed an avenue to mirror his French heritage, the Champs‑Élysées. Be careful with the contractors you hire, as they may create something for themselves rather than for you. What if he had been Japanese? Would we have pagodas lining the street? That is a topic for another day.

What about the name of this street? Why not Grand Avenue or Government Glory? Why not just plain Main Street? Clearly, I should never be in charge of street names.

The story goes that Thomas Jefferson influenced the name as a bow of respect for moving the capital from Philadelphia. That was gracious.

This street has evolved from a muddy path to a sweeping concrete promenade. The street sees parades, victory celebrations, and protests. Funeral processions have graced the pavement. At one point, the street was lined with cabarets, and nightlife was booming. A streetcar used to run down the middle when those were popular.

The street itself is really quite short—1.2 miles. Thomas Jefferson had the street lined with Lombardy poplars. I do not know about you, but I think these are really weird‑looking trees. Yes, they are tall, but they take on the shape of a popsicle stick. At one point, they were all cut down, and the locals used them for firewood, though I am not quite sure they were well suited for that either. More recently, President John F. Kennedy commissioned the Pennsylvania Avenue Development Corporation to revitalize the area.

As America’s Main Street, this strip holds memories and has been revitalized into the Federal Triangle, including 15th Street NW, Constitution Avenue NW, Pennsylvania Avenue NW, and E Street NW. Now, if you are familiar with triangles, you will recall that they have three sides and not four. But this is the U.S. government, and sometimes things do not add up.

Want to explore more about history, civic identity, and the places that shape us? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on culture and community and Greater Good’s research on belonging and collective memory.

If reflections like this spark thoughts about your own story, identity, or personal history, therapy can help you explore those layers with clarity and grounding. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight and emotional growth.

Rediscovering Delight, One Twist at a Time

Some joys (like Kaleidoscopes) are simple, colorful, and wonderfully noisy. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection invites you to revisit forgotten pleasures and reclaim the small delights that once lit you up.

Oh, what glorious fun! Remember getting one of these for some occasion—your birthday, a holiday, or just for any day? A kaleidoscope is a joy in a tube. Not only does it make marvelous changing pictures, but it also makes that electrifying noise of silvery pieces tumbling in the tube. I have not had one of these for years. I must find a place to get one.

As a child, I remember receiving one of these for a birthday. The tube was about 1.5 inches in diameter and 7 or 8 inches long. When you turned the base, the pieces inside would make a sound like sand dropping on metal. The faster you turned it, the louder it got. The colorful pieces inside created myriad designs as you turned the collar. One design after another went tumbling. You could try to repeat a design, but you never could. No matter how many times you put it down on the table, you wanted to pick it up and twirl it again. Your siblings fought for their turns, and even your parents wanted a go at it.

Such a simple thing provided one delight after another. The colors were marvelous, and the tumbling sound of the pieces inside was satisfying too.

I think I need to find one of those and give it a go.

What are you remembering that you need to try again? What used to delight you and has now been lost in time?

Life has a way of slipping by. The things that used to delight you get stuck in the past. Particularly as you age, you find pieces of history slipping away. Oh, we used to play bridge, but then the neighbors moved away, and we have not found any substitutes since. Or, I haven’t bought any yarn in decades, and I used to make baby clothes and sweaters for everyone. Now, I can’t even remember why I stopped.

Life has a way of slipping by. We all know the treadmill that has turned into a clothes hanger or the bicycle that has flat tires and never seems to leave the garage.

My neighbor tells stories of playing golf, but has not been on a course for a decade. How is this possible? What happens to those things we used to do and enjoy?

If you could go back in time and pick up one thing that you used to do, what would it be? I might search for my knitting needles and see if I can find some yarn in the cedar chest. But I will definitely buy a kaleidoscope.

Want to explore more about joy, nostalgia, and emotional well‑being? Visit Psychology Today’s insights on how nostalgia supports emotional health and Greater Good’s research on how play and wonder support well‑being.

If this reflection inspires you to reconnect with forgotten joys or rediscover parts of yourself, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support clarity, resilience, and renewed delight.

MARCH MADNESS

Seasons, Sports, and the Rhythm of Resilience

Madness isn’t chaos—it’s momentum. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how seasonal shifts and basketball brilliance mirror the unpredictability of life, and why persistence is the real victory.

That is such a good title! Here, during the transition between winter and spring, there should be Madness. Yesterday, the sun was bright, the birds were enjoying the feeder just outside my window, and a gentle breeze was moving the clapper of the gong in the backyard. That was a lovely day. Today, the temperature has plummeted to some tragic number, the sky is a total slate gray with no light in sight, and the River Birch trees are bending in the wind as if they will never again be upright. This is March Madness. Driving me crazy!

Fortunately, March Madness has another meaning, and I do like basketball. That air-filled round leather thing that you can bounce on the driveway and hurl into the air to catch the rim of the hoop and fall gently through the net to bounce again on the blacktop and be caught for another shot is a marvelous orb. I love the feeling of it in your hand. Somehow, it seems to fit regardless of your age. The elementary school girl who needs to be lifted in the air to reach the rim is just as excited as the teen who can hurl that ball in a long arc to swish through the net and avoid the rim altogether. A sense of pride emerges at every age.

I grew up in Indiana, where basketball is a huge endeavor. Farmers abandon their tractors in the field to make it to the local high school gym to cheer on their team. Domes are built on college campuses to house the hordes that will flood the stands to watch the intense competition. As a girl living in Indianapolis, the Butler Field House was the place to be.

This year, the opening of this contest is March 16, the day I am writing this essay. Even though I no longer own a basketball, I can still feel the bumps on the round, air-filled leather ball I bounced in the driveway years ago. The college men who will put themselves out on the court will play their hardest. Some will be rewarded, and some will be defeated.

Life functions in the same way. We put ourselves out in the open and strive to hit the mark. Sometimes we succeed, and sometimes we fail. Life requires us to pick the ball up again and return to the court regardless. That expectation can be a real challenge. What if we fail again? What if we miss our shot? What if we must pass it to someone else? What if we step out of bounds? What if we foul an opponent or, worse yet, block our teammate from scoring?

This game of life is challenging, and it requires practice. We must do the same thing over and over before we have mastery. Bounce, bounce, shoot. Bounce, bounce, shoot. Everything that we master requires repetition. Practice can be fun sometimes, grueling at others, and always necessary. Is it madness? Perhaps.

Want to explore how basketball and March Madness reflect life’s deeper lessons? Visit 5 Life Lessons That Basketball Teaches You, Memoir Example: March Madness and the Power of Persistence, and Matthews UMC’s reflections on March Madness and life.

If you’re reflecting on resilience, rhythm, or emotional growth, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight, healing, and personal mastery.

Understanding Emotional Intelligence in Boys and Creating Safety Across Generations

Many grandparents step into parenting roles unexpectedly, carrying both deep love and quiet concern. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection highlights how grandparents can support boys’ emotional development with clarity, compassion, and confidence.

Hello,

Many grandparents find themselves raising grandsons without ever expecting to start over. Along with the love and devotion often comes a quiet worry. Why is he so angry, withdrawn, or overwhelmed, and how do I help without repeating the patterns I was raised with?

This week, I joined Laura Brazan on the podcast Grandparents Raising Grandchildren: Nurturing Through Adversity for a meaningful conversation about how boys develop emotionally and how grandparents can play a powerful role in shaping their emotional future.

With fifty years of experience as a psychologist working with boys, men, couples, and families, I have seen how often emotional pain shows up in boys as behavior, physical complaints, or silence. These are not problems to discipline away. They are messages asking to be understood.

In this episode, we focus specifically on grandparents raising grandsons, often while managing grief, trauma, limited resources, and exhaustion of their own.

In this conversation, we explore:

• Why boys struggle to express emotion and how that struggle can turn into anger, shutdown, or physical symptoms
• How generational patterns of emotional silence get passed down—and how to gently interrupt them
• The Three Rs framework—Read, Reflect, Respond—and how it helps boys build emotional vocabulary and resilience
• How to decode behavior as communication rather than defiance
• Why emotional pain often shows up in the body when boys do not have words
• How grandparents can foster connection without relying on punishment or lectures
• Simple, practical strategies that work even when energy and time are limited

This is a conversation about moving beyond discipline and control and toward safety, understanding, and emotional fluency. It is about helping boys grow into men who can feel, communicate, and connect, even when their early lives have been marked by adversity.

Most importantly, it is a reminder that it is never too late to create meaningful change. Your presence matters more than perfection.

🎧 Listen to the full episode:
Building Emotional Intelligence in Boys and Men
Grandparents Raising Grandchildren: Nurturing Through Adversity
January 26, 2026

Want to explore more about boys’ emotional development and intergenerational healing? Visit Psychology Today’s insights on boys’ emotional development and Greater Good’s research on how caregivers support emotional resilience.

If this conversation resonates with your experience as a grandparent or caregiver, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support emotional growth, connection, and healing across generations.

One Body, One Chance, Let’s Treat Get Your Health Right

Health isn’t just a checklist, it’s a relationship with your body. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores the excuses we make, the risks we take, and the simple truths that can lead to lasting change.

When was the last time you paid attention to your health?

Ahh! I hear you. You don’t have time. You don’t like the doctor’s office. Monitoring at home is a pain. You don’t have the tools to monitor anything. Those heart things on your cell phone seem too easy to trust. You don’t want to find out that something is wrong.

Have I caught all of them? Oh, you are scared and would much prefer to be surprised.

Look, you have one body. You are not like a car where the body can be replaced. You have one of these, and you are responsible for keeping it in good order. However, if you look around on the street or in the mall, you will clearly see that most of us do not keep this thing in good order.

Recent statistics show that 42% of U.S. adults are obese, and nearly three-quarters are overweight. That sounds scary.

If you are a traveler, you will notice that people in most other countries look very different. Most are the size and shape of a normal, healthy adult. Americans approach the size and shape of other mammals, such as walruses and whales. What is wrong with us?

How is it possible that billions of people in different parts of the world eat well, walk places, and maintain a healthy body weight? Americans spend close to $80 billion a year on weight loss. Read that again: billions of dollars.

Interestingly, Europe is catching up with the U.S., particularly in Spain, due to the popularity of new weight-loss drugs. These medications—like Wegovy, Ozempic, and Mounjaro—are part of a class called GLP-1 agonists. While they can be effective, they come with a long list of potential side effects: pancreatitis, thyroid tumors, gallbladder issues, kidney problems, and allergic reactions.

Now, if a door-to-door salesman came by offering a new product with those side effects, how likely are you to buy his product or send him packing? What are we doing?

Ladies and gentlemen, food is available. Manage that, and it will not cost you a fortune. You will be able to reach your weight goals without risking long-term harm to your body. You will be stronger as you add exercise to your day. You will save a ton of money. You will be proud of yourself.

Want to explore how lifestyle changes support emotional and physical health? Visit CDC’s Healthy Weight portal and Psychology Today’s guide to small habits and big change.

If you’re navigating health concerns, emotional overwhelm, or lifestyle transitions, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support clarity, strength, and self-care.

How Self‑Reflection Helps Us Stretch Beyond Who We’ve Been and Helps Emotional Growth

Are you growing? Not in height, most of us are headed in the opposite direction as the years go by, but in emotional depth, clarity, and self‑understanding.

Are you growing? If you think I am talking about height, I am not. In fact, as we age, we actually begin to shrink. We can lose as much as two inches over time because our bone density changes and our vertebrae collapse. But that is a story for another time.

I am talking about emotional growth. This can happen at any time and is always beneficial. I have seen people grow in this way in childhood, middle age, and even in the end‑of‑life stages. We can always grow taller emotionally.

How does one do this? I suggest using a mirror.

Mirrors come in all shapes and sizes. We have a very large mirror in our living room. It is tall, decorative, and narrow, like the one you might have on the back of your closet door, but fancier. Friends sitting on one end of the couch must view themselves in the mirror. The mirror leans against the wall because, frankly, it is too heavy to hang, and I do not want to challenge the studs and be proven right. Looking at our reflections is sometimes hard and sometimes joyous.

When we face the mirror, we see our physical characteristics, but we also see deeper into ourselves. We question: Who am I? What am I about? Where have I come from? What happens next? We may have many more questions. Check it out the next time you look in a mirror. What questions come up for you? Use them to guide you forward.

Self‑reflection is necessary for growth. When we see aspects of ourselves, we have the opportunity to grow. Without reflection, we are stuck. Reflection can come in quiet moments when we replay experiences or anticipate how we will perform in the future. Reflection can come through confrontation when someone holds us accountable and points out how we treat others. Sometimes we request this experience and truly want another to assess how we are doing. Sometimes it surprises us and throws us off course, requiring us to do some hard thinking and regroup.

However it comes to you, I hope you can be grateful. Emotional growth can be hard. For this reason, we tend to avoid it or deny it. Being open to feedback from others takes a decision. When we decide to grow, the benefits are amazing. We can uncover early childhood experiences that have kept us bound up in ways that are not healthy for us. We can challenge family experiences that have shaped us to be a certain way within the family system so that others can benefit.

Welcome growth, however it shows up.

Want to explore more about emotional growth, reflection, and self‑awareness? Visit Psychology Today’s insights on personal development and Greater Good’s research on resilience and emotional intelligence.

If you’re ready to explore your own emotional growth, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support reflection, insight, and meaningful change.

When We Start Parenting Our Parents, Is When the Circle of Care Turns Back Toward Us

There is a moment in many adults’ lives when the roles quietly reverse. The people who once cared for us now need our care, and the emotional weight of that shift is profound.

I have friends and colleagues in this position, and my heart aches for them.

As a culture, we have these step‑down facilities that make end‑of‑life care more comfortable, but they are pricey. Many of the people I know and talk with are coping with this process by having their aging parents in their homes.

You spend a good deal of your life separating from your parents. In fact, this process begins at birth. The infant is trained to sleep alone. The toddler is trained to wait for attention and satisfaction. The school‑aged child must be separated from the parent and placed in the care of strangers. The teen must go away to camp and thrive among peers. The college student must live separately and plan for a future life of their own. The adult can move anywhere in the world and connect occasionally through Zoom or other means.

Then your parent ages and can no longer live independently. At first, you may hire someone to come to their home occasionally to do cleaning and meal preparation. Then you begin to see the signs that they need more services and more oversight. The fancy step‑down places are not affordable, so you modify your home.

You could take two bedrooms upstairs and make one a sitting room with a cozy chair and a TV, and the other a bedroom. After all, your children are gone, and you hardly go into those rooms. You could renovate the basement so there are no steps to climb, and you have separation between upstairs and downstairs. It sounds very British.

All of this is quite good. Then the decline continues. Thinking is disrupted, memory is compromised, and your parent needs more oversight. They cannot be depended on to take their medication at the right time or in the right dose. They cannot take themselves to appointments, so you find time in your day to drive them, wait, and sit in on the doctor’s feedback.

The stages of life have come full circle. They took care of you when you were totally dependent. You are taking care of them as their dependence increases.

Preparing for this stage of life is not easy. I hope you have saved the old photo albums and your uncle’s videotapes of the camping trips and birthday parties. I hope you have a decent singing voice or are willing to sing anyway, as old songs and nursery rhymes can be comforting. I remember seeing a video of an older woman who had not spoken a word in a couple of years. A visitor began singing a nursery rhyme, and the older woman joined in, a smile of comfort spreading across her face, a powerful connection made at last.

Parenting our parents is an act of love, grief, memory, and endurance. It asks us to stretch emotionally in ways we never imagined, and it reminds us that connection—at every stage of life—is what sustains us.

For more reflections on caregiving, aging, and emotional connection, visit Psychology Today’s insights on family caregiving and Greater Good’s research on compassion and aging.

If you are navigating the emotional and logistical challenges of caring for an aging parent, therapy can offer grounding, clarity, and support. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that help families move through this transition with steadiness and compassion.

Snow, Speed, Sledding, and the Memories That Stay With Us

Winter has a way of pulling us back into childhood. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection celebrates the thrill of sledding, the joy of shared moments, and the timeless magic of snow‑covered hills.

“Rosebud.” Does that ring a bell? If you are as old as I am, you will recognize it as the last line of the movie Citizen Kane, a 1941 classic starring Orson Welles. The sled was a childhood memory.

Today is a day for sledding and creating memories. The snow, topped with ice, has not been cleared from the streets in our neighborhood and probably will not be cleared for another day. That means the hill beside our house is loaded with kids and sleds. Some of those sleds hit 30 mph before slowing to a stop at the bottom of a very long hill.

I am tempted to try it myself. However, the safer bet is to enjoy it from the sunroom window, which acts as a box seat to the show. Kids of all ages and sleds of all types are sailing down the hill. The “Rosebud” type of sled, with a wooden top and runners, is nowhere to be seen. The plastic dish seems to be the favorite—just a round piece of plastic with a slight curve like a bowl. Then there is the toboggan, with its curled front and long tail, that can hold two or three at a time. So far, no one has tried the plastic bag, but I bet someone is thinking about it.

The Olympics are being advertised on television, and that really fast sled that takes a windy path and looks truly dangerous would be at home on this hill.

My favorite memory of sledding comes not from my childhood but from my daughters. Snow started falling shortly after her bedtime and came down in torrents. By 4 a.m., at least three feet of it covered the ground and the roads. It was wet, slick snow—perfect for sledding. So, of course, we woke her up, bundled all of us up, and headed for the hill in the neighborhood. At first, we had the place to ourselves and made these gorgeous tracks as we sped down the hill. The climb back up was not easy, but worth it every time. Then, at 5 a.m., other families had caught on, and the hill filled with squeals, laughter, and screams as children and parents sped down.

I can appreciate why people love to ski. First, there is the view from the ski lift as you climb up the mountain. Part of you is amazed at how far you can see and how beautifully the hills are bathed in white. Part of you hopes they have maintained these cables year after year. When you reach the top and face the downhill, you tend to catch your breath. A sense of freedom takes over as the cold air enters your lungs. Swinging back and forth down the hill to slow your progression ever so slightly helps keep you on your skis. The best part, however, is the hot chocolate waiting by the fire at the lodge.

Want to explore more about nostalgia, winter rituals, and emotional well‑being? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on memory and emotion and Greater Good’s research on shared joy and connection.

If this reflection stirs warm memories or inspires you to reconnect with joy, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support resilience, grounding, and emotional well‑being.