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By Pamela Mueggenberg, LIMHP  "And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low, then it started to grow. But this sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound sounded glad! Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small, Was singing without any presents at all! He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming! It came! Somehow or other, it came just the same!” – Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas I’ve been thinking a lot about How the Grinch Stole Christmas, in particular the song right before the Grinch’s heart grew, in the original cartoon and not the well-intended but ultimately disturbing Jim Carrey effort from the 2000s. When the town has been swept clean of the trappings of Christmas and the Grinch is delighted, anticipating the town’s grief and pain when they realize their sacred tradition has been stolen from them. He is fundamentally apart from the town, his body and mind withered in his isolation. He literally lives above them, doesn’t understand them, and can’t stop thinking about them.
We know so much about the Grinch in this story. He is the “Centered Other”, the bringer of ill-will to the faceless innocents below. As an allegorical device it makes sense that the town would respond with unanimous grace, gifting the Grinch with their joy from below. The townspeople are not people, they are foils for the Grinch’s evolution and respond as such. They have no inner world, smiling and unbothered as the Grinch sits down next to them and carves their roast beast. Don’t even get me started on Cindy-Lou. In our efforts to understand the systems of power that hurt us, we can be tempted to center our attention on the face of the system: the Evil Doer, the Grinch, the Antagonist. “What was wrong with him?” “How could he do that?” “Why isn’t he dead yet?” Make no mistake, there are fruitful conversations to have about holding people and systems accountable, and we need to have them. Accountability and restorative justice is vital to community healing. My question today is, how did the Whos manage to sing? A mother woke up that morning, her home ransacked, an ice-cold realization trickling down her back that someone had broken in and been near enough to touch her children while they slept. A little boy looking for the gifts he had made for his sister and trying not to cry when he realizes it’s gone. The elder man ripped from his sleep as bitter cold wind rips under his bedsheets, his Christmas lights a naked wire dangling from the broken door frame. How did they manage to sing after all that? They sang, I believe, because that’s what they had been doing all along. This was a town that was in the habit of connecting with each other. Song, and joy, and celebration were woven into their everyday lives. They knew each other deeply and could rely on the trust they had built to hold them together even during this incredibly awful day. They sang because they needed to remind each other: I am here for you, and you are here for me. They sang, not for the Grinch, but for each other. The practice of connection is foundational to people’s well-being and is fundamentally anti-Fascist. Remembering that you are a human being with your own thoughts and feelings is a great start - but if we want to get really rebellious, you see all those other people? The ones working behind the counter, or passing you on Dodge, or waiting at the DMV with you? They are also human beings and just as deserving of respect and kindness as any other human. Sing with them.
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 by Laura Crosby
Everything and everyone is aging and imperfect. All that we hold dear and everyone we love. Noticing the transient beauty and imperfection of something or someone, especially those we cherish, often slows us down, gentles our gaze, and draws us into a truer, more intimate connection. In moments filled with this noticing we can experience the harmony that Pema Chödrön speaks of when she teaches, "Impermanence is a principle of harmony. When we don't struggle against it, we are in harmony with reality." But the harmony in our own aging? That’s harder to find. Where is the transient beauty staring back from the mirror? Where is the version of ourselves that doesn't struggle against a reality thick with the imperfections, discomforts, and uncertainties of an aging body and mind? We may appreciate the patina of age on others. Honoring it in ourselves is another matter entirely. There is no rule that we must accept aging gracefully. Be wary of anyone claiming there is only one right way. We each find our own relationship to the irreversible flow of life. For some, mindfulness and meditation are good friends on this path of aging and imperfection, especially when practiced in community. Practice groups can be uniquely supportive spaces, where our experiences and struggles are held in honesty, compassion, grace, and wisdom — our own and that of others. We practice bringing intimate attention and kindness to our whole body just as it is in each moment. This turning inward not only illuminates the physical experience, but how the mind relates to it: the thoughts, judgments, desires, and beliefs. This seeing can be freeing. The heart speaks too, sharing how it feels in each moment of aging, imperfection, and impermanence. We tend to the full range of feelings — love, gratitude, fear, grief, they are all welcomed. This tending can be mending. Above all, we know through shared mindfulness practice that “Just like me” everyone is aging and imperfect. I’m not alone. We are all of this nature and it is not personal. Coming together to bring mindfulness and equanimity to aging, we can experience harmony with the flawed and fading. In the spirit of wabi-sabi, we may be drawn to the beauty of impermanence and imperfection, including our own. Reflecting together on wisdom teachings, we gain insights from within and around us. The struggle against reality softens and so does much suffering. As Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us, "It is not impermanence that makes us suffer. What makes us suffer is wanting things to be permanent when they are not.” With gratitude to all in our mindfulness community. Your friendship, wisdom, and heart are deeply felt and a source of great comfort and equanimity.  Daniel G. Weidner, MA, LMHP
January…the start of a new calendar year. This is when some of us take stock of our lives, goals, and ambitions, and give consideration to what we want in this new year. Some persons will set a “New Year’s Resolution” for themselves. However, sometimes people set themselves up for failure (and perhaps even some guilt) when they are not able to fulfill their resolution. They can put undue pressure upon themselves that can actually become stressful and counterproductive. Reflection and the setting of aspirations are valuable and usually positive things to do. I suggest that instead of a resolution, a more productive path may be to set some small, specific, progressive, and attainable intentions. Mindfulness is called a “practice”. Mindfulness, from a cognitive-behavioral perspective, is made up of progressive skills and skill sets. First, we identify and learn the Mindfulness based skills that will be of benefit to us in our lives. Then we practice, practice, and practice them in our daily lives. Through the practice of Mindfulness, we set small and specific intentions (instead of promises) and we work at developing “habit strength” with the skills associated with fulfilling these intentions. It is like learning to play a musical instrument or developing athletic skills. We begin with some introductory skills and progress, in a cumulative manner, into more sophisticated skills. We learn that it is best to keep things simple in the beginning so that we can realize success, therefore reinforcing our efforts. Habit strength is a term that means that we have learned the skill(s) well enough that, when we get into a situation where we need it, it is readily and immediately available for us. Our focus is on habits (skills), not outcomes. We build both flexibility and some self-kindness into the process of learning and practicing Mindfulness. Through the practice of Mindfulness, we learn to focus on our thoughts, our body, and our interactions with the world and the people around us. As we progress in the practice of Mindfulness, we begin to recognize our afflictions and suffering, as well as realization of an improved awareness of the positive aspects of our life. We discover our “unskillful means” and learn to replace them with skillful means. Judgement, shame, and guilt are replaced with learning and growth. The result of this practice is an increase in peace, stability, and freedom in our lives; and in this there is nothing more precious.  By The CML Providers
Each December, as we turn our attention to the coming year, each provider at CML comes up with a word that they hope will help orient them toward growth over the coming twelve months. Here’s how we’re approaching 2026: Hillary – Polarities This past fall, I completed my Level 1 Internal Family Systems training. This was a very expensive, very time-consuming endeavor, and I am SO grateful I embarked on the journey. One of the (many) concepts that pulled me in was polarities, or competing/contrasting parts of ourselves (e.g. “the health-conscious” part vs. the “I want to eat whatever I want!” part.) While our inner polarities may seem to be fighting against one another, oftentimes, when we invite them into respectful conversation with one another, we find they have the same (or similar) goals and the ability (and desire!) to be teammates. As I write this paragraph, noticing both fear/anxiety and hopefulness for the year ahead, I gather these parts to my kitchen table for tea and frank conversation. I remind them that they are both important to me and both necessary to my protection and my growth. I ask them what they both need—to energize them and, also, to offer them relief/rest. I ask if we can work, play, and learn together in 2026. I receive from both parts a tentative, tired, open-minded, open-hearted, committed YES. Laura - Peacefulness Nurturing and wishing peace for all beings. Meeting the moment with kind awareness. Inclining toward a truce with what’s present and true right now. Louisa – Simplicity There was a time when I valued, and even sought out, intricacy and complexity. Now I yearn for essence and depth. There is beauty and ease in what is natural, straightforward, and unadorned. Marilyn – Cozy “December, a month of lights, snow, coziness, and feasts; time to make amends and tie up loose ends; finish what you started and make your wishes come true.” -Unknown Stay cozy this year under layers - layers of warm clothes and accessories, as well as layers of love. These layers keep you cozy, inside and out. Expand and share your coziness with others, do simple or profound acts of kindness that warm up the sudden cold we all feel. Just as we need layers to protect our bodies, we need layers to protect our family, neighbors, friends, community, environment, nation, and the world. Make efforts to find coziness in your life in creative, comforting, and compassionate ways. Pamela – Energy My word for 2026 is ENERGY. I am juggling multiple interesting projects that are both completely engulfing and happening all at the same time. Should I work on my book? No! I need to work on Social Prescribing! Oh wait NO, I have a private practice and need to attend to my clients! WAIT, I HAVE A FAMILY and I’ve heard rumors kids need to eat dinner every night. I do believe that the more energy I expend in a meaningful way, the more energy I have access to. I also believe that a woman needs to nap sometimes. I have made steps to improve my skills managing my time, and have worked for years to wrangle my attention, but this year I think what will serve me well is becoming a better steward of my energy.  by Louisa Foster, PsyD, RDT/BCT
I remember being in college when I first learned the principle behind The Butterfly Effect: that a small action in a complex system could yield a significant, seemingly unrelated result much later and even potentially across great distances. In my Sophomore year, there was a student who always arrived early and sat in the front row of my macroeconomics course. If ever there was a valid place to be grumpy, this was it. But this student greeted everyone as they entered with a silent, penetrating smile. I’m sure a lot of kids thought he was nuts, or maybe stoned, but I noticed that the vast majority, myself included, felt just a little bit more joyful after that gentle interaction. At the end of the semester, I watched as the shy student who sat next to me worked up the courage to approach him and tell him that he had felt desperately alone at school and had been thinking about dropping out. He was far from home and had difficulty making friends, but that twice a week, when he entered this classroom, he felt welcomed and included by that gentle smile and thought that maybe he could hang on just a little bit longer. I know that student wound up staying at school because I saw him several times in the years that followed as I completed my degree, and every time he greeted me, as he did everyone, with the same warm smile that he had so powerfully received from that anonymous student in our classroom. I think of that often as of late when I’m asked, “what can I do?” when confronted with the great suffering in our world. I think of that kid in the front row just smiling, inviting, and welcoming one and all alike. We may feel that we must meet the epic events of our times with an epic response. We may wonder how we as individuals can combat the insensitivity, injustice, and cruelty that occurs on such a grand scale. It seems unlikely for mere individuals to fashion a meaningful response on that level, and that recognition can further our sense of helplessness. But we can always smile at a stranger. We can always choose kindness. We can always soften, put down our judgement, and extend our arms in welcome. We may never know how that small bit of tenderness may change the life of another.  Marilyn Erickson, MSN, APRN
“In the dance of life, a new phase begins, A journey of change, where the old world thins, Menopause arrives with quiet force, Bringing wisdom and grace on its sacred course.” —Dixie Lincoln Nichols So menopause presses forward whether or not women are ready for it. But knowing and understanding what is happening during this process of menopause can give women some sense of readiness and maybe even a little control. I will start you on this knowledge journey by describing some of the distinguishing features of the menopausal stages. Perimenopause: the beginning of the end of ovarian function. During this transitional stage, fluctuations in hormone levels are beginning. The hormones affected are progesterone and estrogen. Our periods become irregular and may be shorter or longer in duration. It may begin sometime in our 40s and more rarely, in the mid-30s. It may last anywhere between 2 and 10 years. Hormone levels fluctuate crazily during this stage and no one-time hormone test can diagnose it. But your provider can start menopausal hormone therapy (MRT) as symptoms emerge. The symptoms that are known to benefit from MRT are hot flashes, night sweats, menstrual irregularities, decrease in sexual feelings, fat gain in your abdominal wall and internal organs, hair loss, low muscle mass and bone loss. Once fertile grounds now lay sacred and bare, Yet within this stillness, a power to share, No longer defined by cycles of the moon, A deeper essence begins to bloom. —Dixie Lincoln Nichols Menopause: Occurs when you have not had a period for 12 months. It marks the end of a woman’s menstrual cycle and reproductive capabilities. It is really defined by a date on the calendar rather than by a list of symptoms. The average age of menopause is 51. Early menopause occurs before age 45 and premature menopause occurs before the age of 40. Postmenopause brings a woman to a new phase of her life. It lasts the rest of one’s life and is really a time to be kinder, more loving and giving to oneself. It may present with more hot flashes, heart palpitations, and sweating. The average duration of these symptoms is extremely variable. Because the changes in a woman’s life during this transition brings with it many changes of aging, it is important to pay attention to any symptoms that occur that could indicate that one is going through the perimenopausal stage. MRT started early on can be very beneficial and support a higher quality of life. A woman does not need to feel defeated or dismissed during this transition. As the poetry cited suggests, it is a time for growth, wisdom, and power.  By Daniel G. Weidner, LMHP
It is a beautiful day and you are going about your business in a cheerful and attentive mood. Then you hear that familiar notification sound from your phone. You open your phone to see a news flash that the federal government has defunded the production of essential vaccines. This information then gets added to the already significant list of very troubling information coming out of Washington DC. Instantly you experience a sense of disbelief, frustration and the kind of anger that makes your blood boil! Or you are having a likewise pleasant day and someone cuts you off in heavy traffic and you are forced to slam on your brakes to avoid a collision! Instantly you feel anger within you. Your hands clench, your pulse accelerates, and your respiration increases. Impulsively you give the other driver the one finger salute. Anger is a normal emotional reaction. Some anger is expected in life. The Buddhist’s refer to anger as Samskara, or a mental formation. Mental formations occur all of the time. Anger in itself is not inherently bad. However, it is both the accumulation of anger and our direct and/or indirect response to anger that can lead to suffering. Carrying anger within ourselves over time can have debilitating effects on our physical and mental health. Impulsively responding to anger can lead to negative consequences. What are we to do with anger? We understand that any change begins with recognition. When we feel anger arise we can begin by noting to ourselves “I am angry”. Some immediate relief can be found by merely recognizing and noting our anger. Victor Frankl said that between Stimulus (in this case the anger producing event) and Response (e.g., giving the one finger salute)– lies Choice. Recognizing and noting anger provides us with the opportunity to make a choice before we respond. Our first choice can be to pause and take 3 mindful breaths. This will help us to regain self-control and facilitate a mindful response to the anger producing event. It is the buildup and accumulation of anger over time that can be the most harmful to our wellbeing. This is where Meditation and Mindfulness practices can be helpful. Through Meditation practice we strengthen our ability to recognize when an angry thought and/or feeling arises. We make note of it (“anger”), let it go, and return to the breath. The effect here is to improve our ability to recognize anger as it arises – both on the cushion and in daily life. This practice also helps us to both reduce the level of our emotional reactivity and to more quickly recover from the emotional reactivity associated with anger. May you rest with a peaceful heart. May you find balance and peace. May you have compassion and equanimity with all the events of the world. By Jack Kornfield by Laura Crosby
The old adage, “any port in a storm,” is an apt one these days, with more depth than its antiquated origin and casual use might suggest. Clearly, the 16th century sailor had better odds at any port, friend or foe, than at the hands of a merciless ocean squall. Today, according to Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the any port idiom is “used to say that a person will use anyone or anything for comfort, help, etc., when in a bad situation.” So what does it mean to take any port in a storm? Really, any port? The “storms” of life are abundant and turbulent, swirling within and around us in ways that can leave us feeling adrift in a tempest of confusion and despair. What is a real refuge when the storms rage? We actually listen for the answer in every moment – always looking for the port of inner peace. Notice that any port in a storm assumes we are aware of and accept the storm. It assumes awareness. As a sailor on the waves of life, I know that storms are part of nature and while fully appreciating their danger and difficulty, I can see the futility of battling every rain drop and thunder clap. This frees me to focus attention on choosing a wise course through the storm and seeing the ports appearing on the horizon. I have agency. During storms, survival depends on opening to new ways of seeing safe harbors. There is an invitation to relax, or at least suspend, assumptions about friend or foe. Rather than holding more tightly to fear and fixed views, I can open to new insights and to help from new “places.” From a place of awareness, acceptance, and openness, I can reflect and study on what ports align with my intentions? What ports nurture and heal? What ports lead to stormier days? What ports no longer serve? And what of the ports within myself? Am I taking the refuge they offer? My deepest and wisest knowing. The courageous heart. Mindfulness. Compassion. Gratitude. The teacher Vinny Ferraro says, “When we meet our suffering with awareness, we go from victim to student.” May we be students of the storms. May we choose the ports that cultivate our compassion and equanimity with all the events of the world. May we trust in our own goodness, wisdom, and belonging.  By Laura Crosby
In the spirit of “everything and everyone is a teacher,” what you are about to read is a simple reflection on how mindfulness practice is present and relevant in unexpected ways. While drawn from recent events, politics are entirely beside the point (well, almost entirely). On November 3, 2024, the poet Alison Luterman shared, “Holding Vigil.” Within hours, it flew around the world in posts, texts, emails, phone calls, podcasts, and meditation rooms like ours at The Center. Read and re-read in conversation and community. You will find the poem in full below. Why? Why did this poem go “viral” with such a sense of urgency? It might be a few things: The way it met people precisely where they were aching in that moment. The way it offered “a moment of unity,” reminding us how many — “every single blessed being on the face of the earth” — were feeling the weight, if not worry, of the time. And it helped us understand that what we were doing was a kind of holding vigil. That the ache, unity, and magnitude of the moment was calling us to pause in observance of an uncertain end and beginning. When we hold vigil, we keep awake and pay quiet, watchful attention even during the time usually spent asleep. Some keep vigil in prayer or protest; hand-in-hand or bedside in honor of dying, death, and difficult change. We bring our vigilance to the import of each moment, tenderly holding the beings we share it with and the feelings that arise. This is quite unlike hypervigilance, in which there is exaggerated reactivity and confusion. From a mindfulness perspective, what makes this poem so significant is that it parallels how we practice: Meeting ourselves and others where we are in each moment. Not where we think we should be or would like to be. Starting right where we are, going to where it hurts or to what’s most true, and meeting the sufferings and joys with awareness. As the beloved teacher Vinny Ferraro says, “We show up, surrender, and care about what arises.” Through practice, coming to see that we are not separate or alone. That just like us others are experiencing fear, anger, and grief. Seeing our “interbeing” with all of life can unwind the binds of self-obsession. Staying awake to our life in a vigil-like willingness to be present with whatever arises. Bringing kind awareness and compassion to moments of intense difficulty — when we most want to escape into “sleep” — as well as to moments of profound ease, joy, and gratitude. The poem also contains discomfort, despair. A suffering that often brings people to mindfulness practice. To the healing and equanimity of moment-to-moment awareness. Grounded, relaxed, open, attentive, ready to see clearly and act wisely. It’s been just 200 days since Luterman released her poem. To say that much has happened understates the immense upheaval and toll of this time. Add to this the waves of gains and loss in our own lives, and … Yes, many of us are still holding vigil. May it be mindful. Dedicated to Dawn Dianne Wood, my mother and wise friend, for whom I am still holding vigil. Holding Vigil by Alison Luterman My cousin asks if I can describe this moment, the heaviness of it, like sitting outside the operating room while someone you love is in surgery and you’re on those awful plastic chairs eating flaming Doritos from the vending machine which is the only thing that seems appealing to you, dinner-wise, waiting for the moment when the doctor will come out in her scrubs and face-mask, which she’ll pull down to tell you whether your beloved will live or not. That’s how it feels as the hours tick by, and everyone I care about is texting me with the same cold lump of dread in their throat asking if I’m okay, telling me how scared they are. I suppose in that way this is a moment of unity, the fact that we are all waiting in the same hospital corridor, for the same patient, who is on life support, and we’re asking each other, Will he wake up? Will she be herself? And we’re taking turns holding vigil, as families do, and bringing each other coffee from the cafeteria, and some of us think she’s gonna make it while others are already planning what they’ll wear to the funeral, which is also what happens at times like these, and I tell my cousin I don’t think I can describe this moment, heavier than plutonium, but on the other hand, in the grand scheme of things, I mean the whole sweep of human history, a soap bubble, because empires are always rising and falling, and whole civilizations die, they do, they get wiped out, this happens all the time, it’s just a shock when it happens to your civilization, your country, when it’s someone from your family on the respirator, and I don’t ask her how she’s sleeping, or what she thinks about when she wakes at three in the morning, cause she’s got two daughters, and that’s the thing, it’s not just us older people, forget about us, we had our day and we burned right through it, gasoline, fast food, cheap clothing, but right now I’m talking about the babies, and not just the human ones, but also the turtles and owls and white tigers, the Redwoods, the ozone layer, the icebergs for the love of God—every single blessed being on the face of this earth is holding its breath in this moment, and if you’re asking, can I describe that, Cousin, then I’ve gotta say no, no one could describe it we all just have to live through it, holding each other’s hands.  Daniel G. Weidner, LMHP
Mindfulness is a practice. Meditation is a critically important aspect of the practice of Mindfulness. When looking at Meditation from a macro perspective there are two integral parts: (1) the actual practice of sitting in Meditation, and (2) the practice of using the calming (Shamatha) and insights (Vipassana) gained through the sitting practice to manage your mind in daily life. Concentration is one of the first things that we learn as we begin a Meditation practice. Concentration (Samadhi) is part of what the Buddhist’s refer to as “The Noble Eightfold Path”. Concentration is facilitated in Meditation through focus on a specific object – typically the breath. Concentration in Mediation differs from the form of concentration that we employ when we study or focus on completion of a complex task. Concentration is not a method for running away from yourself or suppressing. We concentrate to make ourselves deeply present. When you are deeply concentrated you are absorbed in the moment, fully present, you become the moment. Thoughts, feelings, and bodily sensations arise and pass away like clouds in the sky. During Meditation we begin to observe our discursive thoughts - thoughts from the past, thoughts of the future. As we practice we become progressively familiar with our thinking mind. We begin to observe what Jack Kornfield refers to a “frequent visitors”, or thoughts that appear with some regularity. We learn to note and name these frequent visitors. Through this process we learn to recognize them and, importantly, we learn to let them go and return to our object of concentration and the present moment. One of the first things that we realize through this process is that we begin to relax. This is known as Shamatha. Shamatha simply means stopping-calming-resting-healing. Shamatha in Meditation then helps us open to insight (Vipassana). Vipassana, at a basic level, is seen as looking deeply. Through this process we begin to peel back the layers of our thinking and learn to directly face whatever is before us at the moment. As we work with Shamatha and Vipassana we become increasingly familiar with our thinking mind and the many emotions/feelings that may be swirling around with our thoughts. We also develop the skill of “letting go”. In Meditation letting go is the act of retuning to our focus of concentration and to the present moment. When we have a daily and consistent Meditation practice our insights lead to a deeper understanding of the thinking mind. Simply put, we get to know the person with whom we spend every day of our life. This leads us to the second integral part of the practice of Meditation: applying the insight (lessons learned) to our daily life. We learn to understand and manage our thinking mind as we move through our lives. This begins with recognition. We learn to recognize thoughts and commensurate emotions/feelings as they appear in our mind. Through recognition we learn to accept those thoughts as thoughts and see that they are impermanent and pass away like clouds in the sky. We learn to let go and to not get caught up in thoughts from the past or future and to return ourselves to the present moment – which is the only moment that we ever have. Recognition and acceptance also provide us with an opportunity to deal with thoughts and feelings that may require further attention. The ability to recognize and accept our thoughts and feelings leads to greater calmness and equanimity in our daily lives. This then leads to a greater understanding of our thinking mind and enables us to return to the present moment in our daily lives. Stability develops over time with our practice. The vicissitudes of our lives begin to level off and we find that we experience progressively smaller swings in our moods and feelings. This leads to greater happiness and contentment with our life as it is. |
