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As I sit and write this, I am listening to the sound of bird song and lawnmowers, enjoying the gentle breeze from open windows, feeling the expanse of a lazy Sunday gently unfolding before me.
In the chaos and cacophony of the world as it is right now, I can forget to just stop and breathe and listen. I can forget the gift of my reasonably healthy body, the joy of a calling I still feel committed to after decades, the wonder of resilience as I watch loved ones ride the roller coaster of life, hands thrust wildly in the air, screaming with an ear-piercing mixture of delight and terror. This cusp of autumn brings the sweet juice of transition, the soft velvet folds of gratitude, a much-needed pause between the busyness of the summer months and the quiet, reflective months that lie ahead. Maybe we can stop for a moment, as we settle back into the routines and structure that come with the space between summer and autumn. Stop. Breathe. Listen. And say “Thank you”. “May you be rocked, as deeply as necessary and as gently as possible” ~Anonymous Louisa
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On August 6th, The Center for Mindful Living celebrates its 20th anniversary. These benchmarks are always a gentle reminder not only of the passage of time but of the evolution of our work. I find myself awed and humbled by the maturation of a small dream to help people learn about mindfulness as a support to their mental health into the varied and vibrant programs we offer today.
Over the past two decades, we have navigated a move, the pandemic, the various comings and goings of clinicians, developed programming, and allowed the path to gently unfold before us. There have been challenges and no shortage of joy in the work and in our collaborations with one another. We’ve spent countless moments listening, tending, and opening to the vulnerabilities inherent in being human. We’ve worked to create a safe container, a momentary sanctuary in the face of the chaos and turbulence of the world and felt honored to companion so many on their path of awareness and growth. Even as I look back, I can’t help but wonder what the next 20 years will hold. As we stand on the precipice of industry wide change with the advent of AI, I wonder what this will all look like in another ten years? Another five? How automation-proof are qualities like deep listening and compassion? Can something artificial hold space for the existential conditions inherent in being human? Can relational wounding be treated outside of an authentic human relationship? Can attachment still be considered healthy when it is to a program? This month, I try to address some of these questions in the featured article. I feel ill-equipped to the task of prognostication at this point in the game when AI is still nascent and its flaws are easy to identify. Yet already the boundaries are blurring with ChatGPT offering seemingly reasonable advice that stealthily conceals potentially dangerous recommendations. It’s hard to know what lies ahead or how the field of mental health will change as a result of this new technology. I can all but guarantee that if CML celebrates a 40th anniversary, the changes of the next two decades will be profoundly more impactful than those of the last two. A special shout out and immeasurable gratitude to our amazing CML peeps: Laura, Pamela, Marilyn, Hillary, Dan, Katie and Ashima! You all are the Cat’s Meow! And to Christina, whose work allows you to receive this newsletter every month. “May you be rocked, as deeply as necessary and as gently as possible” ~Anonymous Louisa |
AuthorLouisa has always enjoyed writing and is thrilled that she now has a way to share her musings with a larger community of like-minded seekers. Her writing is often an extension and exploration of the struggles she faces in integrating her own spirituality, scholarly study, life experience, and nuggets of brilliance from her teachers in the hopes that it might alchemically transform itself into something approximating wisdom. Archives
July 2026
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