Blog

I didn't set out to work with veterans. Not at all. In fact, I pride myself on one of CTI's core principles: Don't coach the topic -- or the profession. Coach the whole person. But we attract what we vibe with, or something like that.

But "nice" and "kind" are not the same thing. They come from entirely difference sources. And the difference between the two is the difference between leaders and worker bees.

“Just because you don't like me, doesn't mean I'm unlovable.”

I wrote this in my journal one month ago. It felt like a true breakthrough. It only took me some 60 years to get there.

There was a time in my life when I was sprinting through my days — a race of my own making, a race I was determined to win.

Even as a coach who teaches people to listen to their bodies, I recently ignored my own pain until everything seized up. What I learned about real self-care is reshaping how I show up for myself—and for others.

My grandson’s small moment among the fallen leaves reminded me what this in-between season is asking of us.

Play is the art of risking without fear of being wrong.

We even defied gravity to get here. Up in the air from near and far, we flew.
We left our jobs, families, friends, communities — to build this one, again and again.

“Everything I sought after was right here in front of me.”

Most of my work as a life and leadership coach, when you boil it down, is about secrets.

This Father’s Day, I’m reflecting on the kind of love that holds space instead of control—and how my dad’s unwavering trust in me changed everything.

There’s a lie that keeps many of us on a treadmill of self-destruction.

This thought recently smacked me in the head.
And I felt lighter.

What resentment might be trying to tell you.

I used to think strength meant protection. Armor. Always being ready to fight.

We often think of self-abandonment as something dramatic — but the truth is, most of us do it quietly. Repeatedly. Even unknowingly.

I thought I’d found the love of my life in Italy. But the fairytale unraveled—and I was left alone in a story I no longer believed in.

Alone in the wilderness, I wasn’t just fighting fear.
I was meeting the one person I’d been avoiding.

Facing your pain may be the most sacred act of self-care.