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I cannot imagine a life that isn't serving. Even in elementary school, ages 10-11, I was like the playground therapist at times, helping friends with emotional pain such as families going through a divorce.

My entire career has been service-to-others. The amount of money and time dedicated to the craft of writing, coaching and healing, I can’t calculate. I’ve donated hundreds of sessions over 20 years for those without means, doing coaching/energy healing, even when I dearly needed income.


Something that wouldn't be on a resume...

My son was born with a beautiful head of hair. As a single mom, I realized haircutting expenses would add up tremendously. So, I taught myself to cut hair using his beautiful head as my teaching model, God bless him. Eventually, I even learned to cut my own hair and also did for elder women for free. A cherished treasure was hearing their life stories. We would laugh and cry together, so many tender moments. They mentioned not having shared these things before—no one had asked. (A sad trend, I’ve noticed.)

I can't say exactly what happened for them. I just know there was a positive shift from telling their stories, speaking their truth, being acknowledged and heard. Perhaps, for the first time, they felt someone cared enough to know their histories. I know many carry feelings of being unworthy and/or worthless. Maybe those heartfelt moments helped to release some of that.


Recounting the hair-cut dialogues sparked a flashback—college semester in UK. In spare time, I visited a senior facility several times to chat and hear their stories during their afternoon tea. Amazing stories that mostly I have forgotten after many decades. I wish with my entire being I could have recorded them!


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