Diffusion, Dogs, Detours
We’re about a month out from the official start of summer, but as far as I’m concerned - it’s summatime! The kids are out of school, we just got back from the beach, and the calendar has a little more breathing room.
While on the beach, I listened to the launch of the Black Girls Bonding podcast episode featuring a conversation between Kianti Brown Whitney and me about designing a life that is easeful, joyful, and abundant. Take a listen (here or wherever you get your podcasts) - I’d love to hear the one thing you’ll try this summer.
Grounding
Every Tuesday at 10:45am, my calendar reminds me: “Fear Chat.” For 15 minutes, I sit with fear - not to dwell in it, but to put it in its place. I mix in quotes, song lyrics, and scripture to help me reset.
This practice was born from a transformative experience last summer…with a horse. Horses, as it turns out, have a deeply intuitive way of helping humans reflect. And Tuffy - guided by a gifted equine facilitator - did just that.
He “disappointed” me, but in the best way. He helped me see myself more clearly. I realized fear had been a silent squasher of my boldness and brilliance. I was hedging. Shrinking. Playing small. Now, nearly a year later, I’m still having weekly chats with fear. It hasn’t disappeared - it just shows up differently. What’s something that could have a grip on you if you didn’t constantly diffuse its power?
Gripping
Walking out of Sweetwater Creek State Park recently, something made my heart leap: a red Doberman. Not just any Doberman - a girl. She looked exactly like Resa and Nseya, the two Dobermans who defined my childhood as an only child.
They were more than pets - they were family. My dad and uncle would each take one from the same litter, a tradition that bonded us across generations. Seeing that dog in the park brought back so many memories: from mundane vet visits to the awe I felt watching them follow my dad’s commands from across a busy street.
Joy rushed in. Sorrow did too. Both dogs passed from degenerative myelopathy, the canine version of ALS. But in that moment, what I felt most was gratitude - for the memory, the connection, and the love. When was the last time you had an overwhelmingly positive visceral reaction?
Gifting
Our kids’ school is a smooth 15-minute commute. Or it was. In April, Riverside Parkway closed - indefinitely. Cue panic. Alternate routes? Earlier departures? I braced myself for mild inconvenience.
Seven weeks later…we’re still detouring. My husband found a workaround through a nearby mobile home community. Less traffic, more speedbumps. Seventeen, to be exact. Or as my son calls them: bumpies. That’s 34 bumpies roundtrip, every day.
But then, we shifted. We started playing “Where do I turn next?” We spotted unique front porch decor and yard accessories. We made the best of the bumps. I still look forward to the road reopening. But for now, I’m embracing the pause. What forced pauses have helped you see something in a new way?
As you settle into summer, I’d love to hear how your days and weeks reflect the season. Let’s stay in flow, together.
Joyfully,
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