Author Archives: michelle

REFUGEE SUPPORT STORY, Day 1, The surprise of the day: The men.

Click this link for short video.

You think you’ll walk into a situation like this and your heart will ache for the youngest of babies and children, and, though, of course, it does, and the older boys seem to occupy the space inside today that, like a scanner, eagerly searches for the black and white of a solution.

Being displaced like this, or, as I even think to other parts of the world, where men are coined different or feel different in a community (of what may feel like) sameness, I see, once again, today, that they need to feel a part of something — specifically and literally — active in their search (for more) and in their experience.

Our community’s happiness comes quickest when our (young) men who grow to be the men in our families, inner cities, companies, jail cells, classrooms or governing bodies feel worthy, listened to, and when they can put their full talents and skills to use in a positive way; in a way that society benefits from, where they can ultimately, see their efforts, turned into energy used for the whole.

I am moved by how we can further relate to the men in our lives, our rocks, our romantics, our pillars of strength, our men-turned-boys in sorrow, our doers, darers and problem solvers.

Let us pay more attention to our men — young and old, alike. Women, wives, daughters, sisters, mothers, what are they really saying by their actions? Might we ask how they’re doing and not take ‘ok’ for an answer so easily? Do they truly feel heard? Do they occupy their time with the things that help them feel on purpose, a part of society and a part of the family? Just as we want it for them, do they have planned moments in their day or week to enjoy community vs. just work? In short, from the time they are young, do we love them in the ways they feel most loved and do we express that in the relationships they grow up watching?

Today, I walked camp giving out tickets to the men in each tent (most, now turned pod, as the winter months are coming) which meant they could come “shop” for jackets, pants and shoes.

They passionately asked if they would find their size this time (they really wanted to find their size this time), or told us stories of losing their brothers, leaving their parents or children behind, or of their families’ shoes being stolen the night before.

I also watched as little boys ages six, nine or eleven years old easily stepped in as their family’s leader, answering questions from us in English their parents couldn’t answer (something else etched in my cells from today ~> children ARE our future — shall we treat them as such now vs. trying to “fix” them later?).

The same boys would also eagerly step forward to help in other ways, like quickly running to grab the ID card their parents had forgotten in their tent or pod.

Beyond the simple smile or quick rub of the head, as you do to a boy who just hit a home run or made a basket, I wish I could have told them: I saw how you did that. I can feel the love and power you hold inside by how you so obviously give all you have, even when it’s uncomfortable, to those you care about (and, even to those you may not know yet or fully understand).

At the end of the day, I asked myself if I could, more honestly and deeply, walk even a minute more in the stories of the lives of the men I love. And if I did, would I be able to love them deeper, or, in other words, in the ways that most matters to them?

On the Supermoon tonight, there’s nowhere else I would rather be than with this answer, in these thoughts and with these men and with the women and children they would so clearly give their lives for, and have.

To my brother, father, husband, sun and to all the brothers, fathers, husbands and suns I met today, I acknowledge your life experience and want to ask you even more often, how are you today?

And, just in case, those words don’t happen to cross my lips, may I continue to look at you in a way, every day, as if to say, thank you for all you do in the name of love that I may not always fully acknowledge.

Love from the road,



The Creative Heroine, You ~ An idea to help get you over to help refugees.

These leggings will be coming with me to clothe some of the ladies at the Fillipiada refugee camp.

Will you come with me, too?

Send me an email and I’ll bring your sweet face and love with me for all who need it. I don’t doubt it will also help me do the work I need to do over the next week.

I realize not all of us can take the time, have the desire, or that we’re busy GOTL (getting out the love) locally or within family in other ways, but I have this dream of small groups of friends raising money for one representative from their circle to go on their behalf. A heartfelt, fun solution to the common “I wish I could do something like that” scenario — the truth is, there’s always a way, and if it’s not you, why not send your love, supplies and your hope with a friend. Just because you can’t go right now doesn’t mean you can’t pool that love and interest to send someone over on your behalf. She’d wear a t-shirt with all the names and faces of those who made it possible. And this would go on and on, all around the world. Same goes for local support for your chosen causes. Get your people together.

That’s my dream. And it woke me up all over again.

As the Creative Heroine in us all knows, there’s always a creative path or opportunity to help us move from problem to solution, in hopes of expressing who we really are.

This is who you really are — a creative heroine.

Life is good,





THIS ON (one sentence on the Election)

I have simply this note to my fellow Americanettes following Election Day:

Let us watch our thoughts for they become our words, our words for they become our actions, our actions for they become our habits, our habits for they are the real key things that determine our destiny.

Turn your love for this country into action.

Life is good,





My Hospice Experience Last Week (Soul Scientist)

I called Josh a minute before walking into my new hospice patient’s home (when I need to ground myself, connecting with this man is one thing that immediately does it).

My last words to him before we hung up and I walked up to knock, knock, knock:

Honey, I don’t even know him yet and I love him.

~ ~ ~ ~

Imagine if we went into our ‘regular’ daily interactions with those we have yet to know more deeply with more energy, tenderness and a willingness…to see another as the person we love (or for those of us who have lost, as the very person we’ve lost).

Our stress levels, road rage and walls of all kinds, once there and built as high up as they could go would, if not cease to exist, decrease in size dramatically.

Would those days be really good days?

Those days would be really good days.

Life is good,


p.s. How does your brand of woman express her soul’s service and what does it say about how to see and experience the world at large?