Last weekend, my husband and I traveled to Baton Rouge, Louisiana for a memorial service to honor our brother-in-law’s father. While the purpose of our trip was sad and somber, the people of Baton Rouge and the community we visited transformed a potentially difficult weekend into a heartwarming, uplifting and eye-opening experience.

Our flight from New York landed in Baton Rouge during the Friday rush hour. Within minutes, we were greeted outside baggage claim by a lovely couple, Alice and Larry, whom we had never met, and whisked into their car. Alice and Larry, close friends of the bereaved family, could not have been kinder, taking time out of their busy lives to retrieve two strangers from the airport. We chatted amiably during the entire car ride, feeling like we had known this couple for years. Alice and Larry drove us directly to our accommodations, the home of Sandra and Jay, close friends and neighbors who would be our hosts for the weekend.

Sandra and Jay, whom we had also never met, graciously welcomed us (as well as my parents, my sister and brother-in-law) into their spacious, elegant home. From the comfortable private bedrooms and wide selection of amenities to delicious homemade cooking—including a traditional southern breakfast of “grits and grillades” which our hostess cooked over a 24-hour period—we were treated as special guests.

My personal highlight of our stay at this house was observing our hosts relaxing in ‘his & hers’ recliners in front of a ginormous flat screen TV, each with a glass of bourbon in hand, cheering on their beloved LSU Tigers. Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in New York anymore….

Two doors down, we gathered with our extended family to comfort each other, reminisce and share treasured photos, as a continuous stream of friends and neighbors passed through to pay their respects. No one came empty-handed. People brought homemade casseroles of every variety: pasta, tuna, vegetable, chicken & rice, egg & sausage, you name it. There were also salads, meats, cheeses, dips, vegetables, cakes, pastries and other sweet treats. We ate and drank nonstop for two days. Our usual gluten-free, fat-free, dairy-free, healthy eating habits were temporarily discarded as we soon realized that “comfort food” really does soothe the soul.

This was southern hospitality at its finest. But the comfort extended far beyond the food. The entire weekend was an overwhelming testament to a supportive community caring for one of its own families. Yes, people cooked and delivered food for each meal, they shuttled out-of-town guests around (in addition to our airport pickup, other thoughtful strangers gathered my sister and parents from their flights) and they showered the entire anguished family with heartfelt love and support. In short, everyone went above and beyond the call of duty, not because they felt obligated, but because it was second nature to them to step in and help. These kind actions may have been precipitated by a tragedy, but they were not reserved for this sad occasion. Rather, these were typical, everyday occurrences for the people of this community who always conduct their lives with grace and kindness to help those around them. As they say in the South, these are “good peeps.”

In the wake of one of the nastiest, most contentious presidential elections in our nation’s history, it is evident that stark divisions and deep wounds remain that desperately need to heal. In this spirit, the southern hospitality and sense of community that we experienced last weekend is a perfect example of how we should all conduct ourselves…. cast judgments aside, be kind to one another and work together as a team to make those around us stronger—not only in a crisis, but always. Thank you to the people of Baton Rouge for inspiring us and leading the way forward.

You’re likely thinking July 4^th barbecue— a healthy, tasty grilling option alongside the traditional hamburgers and hot dogs. Yes, possibly. But I am actually referring to a different type of turkey dog. These turkey dogs are real, live, purebred Golden Retrievers from Istanbul, Turkey, who are being rescued and relocated to the United States to enjoy new lives.

As background, Golden Retrievers were once considered a status symbol among the wealthy in Turkey. A few years back, it became popular and even fashionable to own a Golden Retriever puppy, which most Turkish families bought from a pet store. (There are few traditional breeders in Turkey.) But once the pups grew up, things changed. The tiny balls of fur that parents had given their children as holiday gifts were now large, energetic dogs that many found difficult to keep in their small homes. So began the abandonment of Goldens into the streets and forests. Unlike typical stray dogs that could astutely navigate the streets, find food and fight for space, the Golden Retrievers were ill-equipped to roam free. Gentle and non-aggressive by nature, these canines were used to being with their human families and could not survive well in the cold. With few shelters available in Istanbul, the dogs would frequently starve or become prey to the thousands of feral dog packs in the forests around the city. Few lived to see old age.

That is, until the onset of Operation Turkey Dog, a program founded in 2014 to rescue these dogs and find them new homes in the United States. The program originated at Adopt a Golden in Atlanta, Georgia (“AGA.”) AGA established a large network of compassionate, dog-loving volunteers and created the process and infrastructure to bring these dogs to the US, then turn them over to caring, adoptive families.

The typical journey of a “turkey dog” from Istanbul to the United States is an arduous one. It begins on the ground in Istanbul where dozens of committed, selfless volunteers work alongside local dog trainers and veterinarians and literally drive through the streets rounding up the Golden Retrievers (along with other non-aggressive breeds) and sheltering them in makeshift doggie hotels. Once the canines are fed and their medical needs addressed, many are designated to travel to the US. While awaiting their departure dates, the dogs often spend a few interim weeks in local municipal shelters. These massive shelters house hundreds of dogs and, while life there is better than on the streets, the conditions are less than satisfactory—with both food and space scarce and frequent dog fights. Fortunately, most Goldens do not remain in these shelters for long.

Before leaving Turkey, the dogs receive complete medical exams, are spayed or neutered and are issued health certificates and pet passports. They travel on nonstop flights with Turkish volunteers who meet the US volunteers upon arrival. Multiple Golden Retriever rescue groups from around the nation—who have partnered with AGA—work together in teams to bring the dogs to their new homes in different regions where pre-screened American families excitedly wait to meet their new adoptees.

Since the program’s inception, 680 turkey dogs have been re-homed in the US and Canada, with more arriving each month. These dogs appear to be thriving and the demand for them is far from sated, as Golden Retriever rescue organizations routinely have many more potential adopters than dogs ready for placement. Adoptive families post daily photos of the dogs playing with other dogs, chasing toys and tennis balls. The turkey dogs have their own beds. They enjoy swimming, frolicking and even riding on boats! Many have canine and/or human siblings. But mostly, they are happy just loving and being loved. Simply put, they’re settling in wonderfully and are thoroughly enjoying the American life.

When I first heard about this rescue operation from a friend, I was incredulous that people could willingly abandon these sweet, gentle souls who exist solely to provide unconditional love. I immediately wanted to get involved. A few months ago, I began volunteering my time to walk and care for the new turkey dog arrivals, helping to prepare them for their adoptions into forever homes. I was amazed to see how affectionate and friendly the turkey dogs were upon immediate arrival on US soil. Literally moments off the airplane, after spending 15+ hours between holding stations, transit time and customs, their tails were wagging like crazy and they couldn’t wait to receive hugs and give wet puppy kisses. I sensed these were special dogs.

I also knew that I wanted to adopt one of these turkey dogs. My husband and I have always loved golden retrievers and had already raised two; caring for those two incredible dogs had a profound impact on our lives. After mourning the loss of our 2^nd Golden last spring, we were finally ready to adopt another dog. We considered going to a breeder, but after hearing about Operation Turkey Dog, we decided this was our best option. After a rigorous application process—which included a telephone interview, home visit and several reference checks—we were approved to adopt a turkey dog through Golden Retriever Rescue Inc. of NJ. Then the waiting began…

Casper in Turkey

Casper’s Pet Passport

Casper arrives at JFK!

Two weeks ago, our wait ended, and our dream of adopting one of these wonderful turkey dogs was realized when our beloved “Casper” arrived at JFK airport from Istanbul, Turkey. The local rescue group had named him Casper, along with the other Halloween-themed turkey dogs: Wendy, Trix and Treat, all of whom arrived in America this October. We considered several other names for our dog, but after spending a few minutes with him and witnessing his friendly nature and playful, mischievous spark—not to mention his white coat—Casper seemed like the perfect name.

This sweet, handsome boy came into our home and our hearts. It is amazing to think that just a couple of months ago he was roaming the streets of Istanbul foraging for food and fending off attacks from dogs and other wild animals. Walking him a few days ago in torrential rain, I became misty-eyed as I realized that, instead of wandering through the forest looking for a dry, safe place to wait out the storm, Casper now has a warm, cozy home with plenty of healthy food and a family who adores him. I am saddened to think of all the other dogs who remain in Turkey, waiting for their ticket out, and the countless others who will never know a better life with a loving family. So, I prefer to focus on this one dog, our Casper, whom we were able to save. In closing, I’d like to share a favorite quote from the head of our local Golden Retriever rescue group:

“Saving one animal may not change the world, but for that animal, their world is changed forever.”

I’m so grateful we could help change your world, Casper… and even more blessed that you were able to change ours.

“Casper” is a happy boy and is enjoying his new life in America…

As a marketing consultant, I appreciate an advertising campaign that reinforces a distinctive brand positioning and instills an emotional connection with consumers. Corona Extra is the #1 imported beer in the U.S. thanks, in large part, to its long-running Find Your Beach campaign. This campaign challenges consumers to explore inward to discover their own beach—not necessarily a physical place per se, but more a state-of-mind—or, better yet, a “state of being and living,” according to Corona’s EVP of Marketing.  In today’s frenetic world, it is critical for us to carve out time to relax and enjoy life with the people we care deeply about.

As I write this, I am sitting in one of my favorite spots in the world, gazing out at a picturesque, softly rippling lake in Southwestern Maine. It is the shank of the afternoon, the sun slowly fading in the sky, the icing on a perfect late summer day.  I breathe deeply and savor the moment.  Tomorrow is Labor Day— the psychological close to summer—and I am clinging to every last drop of summertime’s joyful spirit and peaceful mindset.

For 20 years, my family has vacationed in this idyllic site on Sebago Lake known as Migis Lodge. Our children were two and six months when we first ventured to Migis. This has always been that special place where I can truly be my best self. It is my beach. I breathe a little easier here. I enjoy living in the moment. My heart quickens a little each time the car approaches the entrance, especially if it’s been awhile since my last visit. It is difficult to describe the overwhelming feelings of contentment that envelope me as soon as I step onto the property or the profound sense of sadness I feel when it’s time to leave.

Majestic pines frame the pristine lake

I treasure everything about Migis Lodge. The tall, majestic pine trees… the rustic yet comfortable and cozy cabins (with no locks on the doors) nestled into the woods… the gentle pathways blanketed with pine needles that connect different parts of the property… the magnificent lake, still and flat as glass in the early morning and softly shimmering in the evening… the cries of the loons echoing through the air as dusk sets in… the water ski dock where children and teens of all ages happily hang for hours, taking turns riding in the speedboat as they ski, wakeboard and cheer each other on… (Both our children learned to water ski here.)

The water ski dock during a rare quiet moment

…the weekly Friday night lobster bake with fresh, local steamers, lobsters and corn-on-the-cob, which takes place at a lakeside cookout area… the outdoor pancake breakfast each Sunday, complete with Maine blueberries and homemade maple syrup… the private island you can visit by canoe, kayak or motor boat for a special picnic… the large, traditional New England porch at the front of the lodge where guests gather to sip cocktails and unwind… a swim in the crystal clear, refreshing lake which cleanses body, mind and soul, making me feel more alive than anywhere else on earth.

Rustic, cozy cabins

Sunday pancake breakfast

Lobster bake

Migis Lodge represents the quintessence of balance— a unique atmosphere in which one can enjoy fun, active outdoor pursuits, while also relaxing in a peaceful, bucolic, stress-free environment. As the sun sinks into the sky and sets on this wonderful summer, I close my eyes, deeply inhale the familiar and comforting pine scent and feel the caress of the gentle lake breeze… realizing all the while that Migis is in my soul.   I have found my beach.

Unforgettable sunset over Sebago Lake

I have always loved the Olympics. It is four days post-Rio and I am already experiencing withdrawal. Like all of the past Olympics I have followed, this one became an obsession, with nightly viewing of events and keen interest in the athletes’ backgrounds and inspiring stories.

In these troubling times and during one of the most contentious of political seasons, this Olympics not only served to unite our fractured nation, but also, brought families together, bonding us in a special way that other national events—sports or otherwise—could not.

Prior to the proliferation of electronic media, thousands of cable channels, live streaming as well as hundreds of computer and mobile phone apps, families would gather around the television, brimming with national pride, and watch top athletes from around the world compete. Even though today’s technologies make it easy to watch continuous coverage of the games all day and all night from a phone or laptop, there remain many families who convene and watch the old-fashioned way—in their living rooms on live (or seemingly live) TV.  Fortunately, mine is one such family.

As avid sports fans, our family watches NFL football; we love the annual spectacle that is the Superbowl. We meticulously research the college basketball teams in the NCAA tournament and pore over our March Madness brackets. We particularly enjoy following the NBA (despite being long-suffering NY Knicks fans) and view every playoff game no matter where we are. We watch the tennis “Slams” and the golf “Majors.” Basically, we follow all sports all the time.

Yet, something feels different about the Olympic games, though it is neither the sports contests themselves nor the outcome. It is something more. The uniqueness of the Olympics is rooted in the exceptional athletes who, unlike NBA and PGA players, are generally out of the public eye. The vast majority are only in the public view for two weeks out of every four years. During that time, we become immersed in their “back stories”—their work ethic, the sacrifices that they and their families make, the extraordinary effort expended, the physical and mental strength required and the toll it takes on their bodies—all in hopes of representing their country and challenging other top athletes from around the world.

Certain Olympic athletes like Katie Ledecky, Michael Phelps, Usain Bolt, Kerry Walsh Jennings and the USA women’s gymnastics team, do become mega-superstars, with lucrative sponsorships, commercial endorsements and national tours. But the vast majority do not win medals. They do not become superstars, and their Olympic experiences do not make them rich. They are passionate about their sports, strive to be the best they can be, and view the Olympic games as the pinnacle of competition… this, in and of itself, is reward enough. The unwavering dedication and sacrifices like pre-dawn daily workouts, continuous travel, school tutors, and missed rites of passage like homecoming and prom, are well worth it— for the chance to fulfill a lifelong dream. For these athletes, and for their families who have guided and supported them every step of the way, the realization of this dream is priceless.

The Olympics has always been the ultimate “family event,” as the entire world tunes in to watch. Family members of competing athletes are in attendance in support of their child, grandchild, brother, sister or cousin; as fans, we get to know these families as well as the athletes themselves. A different, though equally important, kind of family bonding also occurs at home for the viewing audience. Our family reveled each night in the Olympics, enjoying each competition and discussing the events and athletes with great enthusiasm. We even enjoyed watching sports we have never seen played competitively, like archery, table tennis and badminton. Never mind that we were sleep deprived, having stayed up until the wee hours to watch the gymnastics, swimming, diving, track & field and, of course, the midnight beach volleyball “parties” live from Copacabana beach… but it was all worth it.  We never tired of listening to the “Star Spangled Banner,” as the USA won medal after medal.

And, as we congregated around our TV like days of old, raptly watching the competitions and unique stories unfold, I smiled contentedly with the realization that family togetherness was back in full force in the USA. I will miss feeling the distinctive pride of being an American and cheering for all these awe-inspiring athletes whose talent, spirit and personalities filled our homes and hearts for two weeks. I will miss the comfort and camaraderie of sitting around the television, enjoying unforced, organic family time.

Thankfully, two years from now we will get to do it again… I am already looking forward to the 2018 winter games in Pyeongchang.

Go USA!!!

This summer I have had the distinct pleasure of hanging out at summer camp— neither as a camper (an experience which I treasured in my youth,) nor as a camp parent (which I also enjoyed)— but rather, as a professional consultant and spouse of a camp owner/founder.  Now several years removed from being a camp parent and having had the opportunity to view camp from a unique vantage point, my perspective on camp has been both reinforced and redefined. 

I have always embraced camp as a welcome break for children and teens from the rigors and structure of their school and home routines.  In today’s fast-paced, high-pressured world in which children are basically raised with electronic devices in their hands at all times, summer camp offers even more of a reprieve from our insane, anxiety-laden lives.

Camp sessions run from just a few days to 7 or 8 weeks and offer a range of activities from outdoor adventure skills to sports training and all types of special interest programming like theatre, music and culinary arts.  Yet, whatever a camp’s program/activity focus, most provide tremendous growth opportunities and lifelong benefits. Among these are to experience being away from home for the first time; to learn to get along and live with others in close quarters; to make new friends; to take healthy risks and conquer fears; to unplug electronics and be present; to play joyfully; and to appreciate natural outdoor beauty.

Growing up, my sisters and I came home after school and played in the backyard or with the neighborhood kids until it was dark outside.  We were all called home for dinner, not on our cell phones but by our screaming mothers. Our fun was pure. We often came home dirty, with scrapes and bruises. We were allowed to watch one television program before bed. There was no Cable TV, no Netflix, no Hulu, no DVR. There was no social media, no stressing over which photos to post of each activity we engaged in, paired with the perfect hashtag. We ate dinner every night as a family.  We had long conversations.  Dad quizzed us on current events and asked if we had “read any good books lately?”  We talked about our days and our dreams and our friendships and the things we enjoyed.

I’m not suggesting that none of this happens today.  Families still sit around the dinner table and have real conversations.  But those dinners are fewer, sandwiched as they are between soccer practices, karate lessons, dance recitals and basketball games. Many other meals are eaten in the car and on the run.  Today’s children are so fully scheduled with activities and so completely absorbed in their electronic devices and social media that they live less and less in the moment and focus instead on “what’s next.”

At camp, if only for a few days or for several weeks, these same children have a chance to just be kids.  To sit around a campfire and sing songs.  To scream cheers in the dining hall until their voices are hoarse.  To catch their first fish, waterski or canoe for the first time, create art from a block of wood, or climb a tree to face a ropes course challenge. To make new friends from across the country or around the world.  To have meaningful, in-person conversations with cabin mates or teammates instead of texting and Facebook messaging friends in the same room.

Even with all of the modern enhancements and amenities at today’s camps (and there are many, to be sure, including private coaching for elite athletes, indoor gyms with complete fitness training equipment, heated pools, extensive trips across the country and even internationally, healthy food offerings that include nut and gluten-free options, and so much more,) camp remains a place of pure and simple comforts, a respite from the stresses of the real world. The key for many camp owners/directors is to strike a balance between providing a high level of instruction/skill-building that is bringing children to camp in the first place (and the reason parents are shelling out substantial tuition fees) with the core values, traditions and joy of summer camp.

At the risk of shameless self-promotion, I would like to share some thoughts about one camp that has successfully bridged this gap: The Berkshire Soccer Academy for Girls.  The Academy (more affectionately known as “BSA”) is a girl’s soccer camp in Otis, Massachusetts, set on a pristine 116-acre campus in the Berkshire mountains.  BSA offers multiple five-day sessions for girls 10-17 who are passionate about soccer and who want to improve their skills while having fun.  BSA has created a “special sauce” which combines professional-level soccer instruction for several hours each day— plus fitness training, health and nutritional components— with fun and engaging activities like cooking, fishing, kayaking, stand-up paddle-boarding, yoga and arts & crafts.  At night, campers partake in wacky game shows, sing-a-longs, campfires and s’mores. This balanced, well-rounded approach to sports-specialty camping has proven quite successful, with campers and coaches/staff yearning for more.

Many other summer camps offer a balanced, ‘complete camper’ approach, and lots more are likely to follow suit.  The challenge for camping professionals is that all camps must continue to evolve to remain relevant to today’s families, while retaining the important core values and essence that define “camp.”  In other words, the more camp changes, the more it stays the same.

Each time I leave home and arrive at camp, my spirit hearkens back to my days as a young girl and the pure joy I felt at camp.  I feel blessed to be able to spend time now, later in life, in such bucolic and peaceful surroundings.  I breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of fresh pine needles, gaze out at the gently rippling, spring-fed lake and listen joyously to the cheerful shouts of “happy campers” everywhere… and I know I am home.  I am so profoundly grateful to experience, first-hand, what camp means to so many children, teens and their parents—all of whom need camp more today than ever before.

Over Memorial Day weekend, I attended my 35^th college reunion. I had attended previous reunions but had missed the last one, so I had not been back to my alma mater in 10 years and hadn’t seen most of my classmates since then. This lapse left me feeling more than a little apprehensive.

I had helped plan the reunion, which forced me to reconnect with a number of classmates, but it had still been ages since I’d seen them in person. I was looking forward to seeing old friends and traversing the picture-postcard campus, much of which had been enhanced since my last visit. I knew that 120 of our approximately 400 classmates were planning to attend. Beyond that, I had few expectations.

I had hoped to reconnect with several of my cohorts; however, I had not anticipated connecting deeply with several classmates I had barely known in college. Likewise, I could not have imagined that so many people would be relaxed, friendly and readily approachable, or that this reunion would feel like a loving, extended family coming together after a long hiatus. Finally, I never would have predicted that we would turn back time and revel like the freshmen we once were.

Yet, I experienced all of this, and more, in one short weekend.

I arrived early Friday evening in time for cocktails. My first Tito’s & Tonic with a fresh burst of lime set the tone for the weekend. Armed with cocktail, I plunged into the group, gravitating towards familiar faces. Gradually, I ventured out of my comfort zone. I soon found myself connecting for the first time with classmates whom I had not known well in college. Within the first hour, I began to feel completely at home.

Throughout that night and over the next day and a half, I engaged in many deep and meaningful conversations. I found my classmates honest, open and surprisingly humble. There was no sense of competitiveness or one-upsmanship, just forthright, candid communication– each of us listening intently to one another, trying to understand who we have become and what’s most important to us. I recall discussing with an old friend how we were raised to believe that our lives would follow a straight and narrow path: graduate high school, attend college (and maybe graduate school after that), get a job, make a certain amount of money, have a family, retire, etc. But then reality intervenes and life throws us curve balls, leading us on a path that more closely resembles a series of zig-zags than a straight line. We both acknowledged that these zig-zags and detours make us stronger and better, molding us into the people we are meant to be.

Judgment was mostly absent from the weekend. We were no longer “pigeon-holed” into particular categories based on our college social groups, fraternity affiliations or campus activities. My classmates seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me, as I am today. Likewise, I found myself fascinated and awed by the unique and sometimes incredible things my classmates have done and are doing, many of their lives so different from my own. I also discovered unexpected common ground with various classmates: connections to California and Colorado–two places where I spend a lot of time–as well as shared interests with fellow sports fanatics (my McMurphy’s buddies with whom I watched the NBA playoffs, you know who you are!) and still other ties to classmates whose children and mine are on similar journeys. I found these new connections surprising and affirming.

One of my personal highlights was participating in a panel discussion entitled “What’s Next?” during which classmates explored our evolving priorities and discussed what’s most important to us at this stage of our lives. I was inspired by what many of my co-panelists shared– the risks they’ve taken and sacrifices they’ve made to try new things and make the necessary changes to realize greater personal fulfillment.

And, as unfathomable as it may seem, for a brief period, we were actually transported back in time. One of our classmates hosted a college version of Jeopardy and grouped us into teams according to our freshman dorms. Topics included fraternities, alcohol, classes, couples, and hilarious college shenanigans. This brought back so many memories and reminded us that, despite how our lives have diverged over 35 years, we all began in the same place, as naïve 18-year-olds and that we will forever share the special and inexplicable bond of having attended the small college upon the hill.

So, here I am, some two weeks later. Back to my life, my classmates back to their own lives. But, unlike 35 years ago when landline phones and handwritten letters were our only means of communications, today’s technology makes it easy and fun to stay in touch with classmates across the country and the world. Since we parted ways post-reunion, many of us have remained in touch, sharing photos, thoughts and memories. Thank you to my college family. I have a renewed respect and admiration for each of you and can’t wait to see “what’s next” for everyone. I am already looking forward to our 40^th!

James Hall Jeopardy Team!

My College Family: The Mighty Class of ’81

I love being a mom.  It is simultaneously the most challenging and most rewarding job there is.  The challenges are daily and nearly constant, yet the rewards, when they come, are so sweet that they make it all worthwhile.  Mother’s Day is one such reward.  This past Mother’s Day, I enjoyed “feeling the love” from my children and husband, while also celebrating my own mother and mother-in-law who have both done so much to guide and support me.  Mothers are selfless beings who sacrifice many of their own wants and needs for those of their children, while loving their offspring unconditionally.

Quite apropos to this holiday that honors mothers everywhere, my Mother’s Day began with a wonderful surprise—one of nature’s small miracles—a trio of Robin’s eggs had just hatched in a nest on our front door!

Last summer I wrote a blog post about another Robin’s nest inside a hanging plant on our front porch.  That hanging plant had long since withered and died; however, as the leaves returned to the trees and vibrant colors began to sprout all around us, another industrious Robin built a new home, reminding me of the magic of spring— signaling rebirth, rejuvenation and renewal.

For several days last month, I was transfixed as a Mama Robin spent countless hours gathering twigs, dirt and mud to build a cozy nest inside a wreath hanging on our front door.  Like most mothers, the selfless Mama bird did not rest, flying to and fro dozens of times per day, meticulously building her perfect nest.  What’s more, every time someone approached our front door, she would fly off, expending even more energy to evade the potential threat of a predator.

The beautifully crafted nest was completed in just a few days, and, soon after, we noticed  three beautiful teal-blue eggs resting inside.  The Mama then kept vigil for two weeks, resting on her precious eggs, and leaving only occasionally at night to gather food in preparation for her new arrivals.  When I came downstairs on Mother’s Day morning, I noticed that the Mama bird was not sitting on her nest as usual.  I peered inside the nest and was delighted to see that the eggs had hatched!  Inside were three tiny, fleshy blobs with beaks, each donned with a few feathers.  The baby birds were immobile and helpless.  A few minutes later, the Mama returned home and resumed her perch.

How extraordinary to observe this miracle of life on Mother’s Day!

With the recent passing of our beloved golden retriever, Kira, and two children far away in college, my own nest has become even quieter and emptier lately, and I have been feeling a touch wistful.  Yet, after observing the unwavering dedication, perseverance and love of the Mama Robin for her babies, and the incredible miracle of their birth on Mother’s Day, my heart swelled with hope, awe and inspiration.  Witnessing the building and nurturing of the Robin’s nest, followed by the Mama bird’s sweet reward of birth, reminded me to focus on the celebration of life and all the things I have to be grateful about.

My husband and I are about to enter a new life chapter, as our eldest child graduates college and begins her foray into the ‘real world.’  It is a bittersweet sensation— feeling immense pride as we witnessed our daughter flourish in college and grow into a bonafide adult, co-mingled with a very real poignancy as we realize that this important life chapter is concluding.  Like the Mama bird, we protect our young, teach them well and prepare them to live a fulfilling life on their own.

In a few short weeks, our Robin’s nest will be empty, as the baby birds take flight and begin their own magnificent lives.  Likewise, our daughter will launch her own journey.  I feel truly blessed to be a mom.  The tough part now is letting go and allowing my baby bird to fly into that beautiful, blue sky and take on the world.  As a mom, I embrace the realization that watching her leave is simultaneously the challenge and the reward of motherhood.

With my daughter in the final stretch of college, and a reunion at my own Alma mater fast approaching, I’m in a graduation state-of-mind.  Last weekend, as a volunteer at Guiding Eyes for the Blind, I witnessed a different type of graduation—the sort that inspires one to reassess personal priorities and consider the true meaning of this concept.

The Guiding Eyes for the Blind (or “GEB”) is a non-profit organization dedicated to enriching the lives of blind and visually impaired people by matching them with specially bred and trained guide dogs, with the goal of enhancing students’ freedom, safety and independence to assure greater dignity and new horizons of opportunity.  These special guide dogs receive nearly two years of basic training and socialization; they then embark on more formal training with a professional instructor to perfect the skills necessary to safely guide a blind person, such as indicating elevation changes and navigating obstacles. After training is completed, each dog is matched with a student, based on personality, temperament and the student’s specific needs.  The student-canine pair then trains together for three weeks on-site at the GEB campus in Yorktown Heights, NY, as they forge a lifelong bond as a “guiding eyes” team.

Guide Dogs-in-Training

I was first introduced to the Guiding Eyes 15 years ago when our family adopted two golden retriever puppies who had been released from the guide dog training program.  We raised and trained these two beloved pups, and, in return, they gave our family endless joy and unconditional love.  I wanted to ‘give back’ to this wonderful organization, so I began volunteering there two years ago.  Every month, I assist at the class graduation by helping to run the on-site souvenir shop.  This gives me the opportunity to interact with many of the graduates and their families.

The graduation ceremony celebrates the completion of each guide dog team’s training.  From this day forward, lives are forever changed.  At the ceremony, the graduates line up and file into the room, each student led proudly by his/her beloved guide dog.  The room is filled with the graduates’ friends and family members, dog trainers, guiding eyes staff, GEB supporters and the dozens of volunteers who help raise and socialize the puppies.  Sometimes, graduates address the audience.  They may speak or read a poem, sing an original song or play a musical instrument.  The breadth and degree of talent among the graduating classes is always awe-inspiring.  At one recent ceremony, a graduate (who is also a teacher) read a poem she had written based on the iconic children’s book, Goodnight Moon, entitled “Hello World.”  Here are a few verses:

Hello, faith and love.  Hello, peace and joy.
Hello, strength and confidence.  Hello, “good girl” and “good boy.”
In the great big world, there are street crossings and traffic lights,
And a bundle of challenges for those without sight.
And there are worries to drop and mountains to top,
And corners to turn and opportunities to earn,
And a few little fears and a few little tears.
And some hopes and some dreams, and twelve new guide dog teams,
And a million believers of noble esteem.
Hello, second chances.  Hello, being free.
Hello, unbelievable gratitude.  We can finally see.

One of the graduates recites a speech, written in braille, to the audience

Another graduate, who was paired with his fourth GEB dog, shared inspiring words about his relationship with his guide dogs.  This man spoke tenderly about the special relationship the student and dog share, the mutual respect and patience required, and the challenge of letting go and allowing oneself to experience unconditional love and trust, ultimately leading to an unbreakable bond.  This emotional tribute resonated with everyone who has ever had a close, loving, trusting relationship— canine or human.

Many colleges, including my own Alma mater, use the term commencement instead of graduation.  Until recently, I always preferred graduation, as I felt it signified the successful completion of an important life chapter and attainment of a goal or milestone. However, after attending several Guiding Eyes graduations, I now fully appreciate the deeper meaning and significance of commencement.  For Guiding Eyes graduates and their dogs, this truly is a commencement—a hopeful beginning—the promise of a better life filled with greater independence, new vision (literally and figuratively), enhanced personal dignity and expanded opportunities to explore everything the world has to offer.

So, when I attend my daughter’s Commencement next month, I will be particularly mindful that this milestone not only marks a major achievement in her life, but also, it represents a new beginning, filled with hope, joy and opportunity.

Guiding Eyes Pups

Future Guide Dogs?

A recent graduating class with their guide dogs

It is Saturday at 7:45 a.m. I could be doing any number of things.  I could still be lounging in bed (Impossible… I have been awake for hours and am incapable of sleeping past 6 a.m.) I could be relaxing with a cup of coffee and the NY Times. (Already been there, done that today.) Or, I could be having an early workout at the gym. (A strong contender, as that’s often where I am at this hour… but not today.)  On this particular Saturday morning, I am doing none of these things.

Actually, I am sitting inside a movie theater on State Street in Santa Barbara, California. I am attending the city’s 31^st annual film festival and am waiting for the 8 a.m. showing of “Au Plus Pres du Soleil” (“Too Close to the Sun,”) a French-Canadian film, to begin. Until today, I was unaware that movie screenings ever happened earlier than noon.

As the lights begin to dim, the film festival host walks up to the front of the theater to greet the surprisingly alert crowd of 40-50 people (yes- there are other slightly crazy morning movie goers besides me!) and enthusiastically welcomes The Breakfast Club. With this reference to the iconic 1980’s ‘brat pack’ film (one of my old favorites,) the crowd breaks out in giddy cheers. I smile, proud to be a part of this singular group. We all share a special kinship that is vaguely reminiscent of a pre-dawn swim in an icy lake with the polar bear club at summer camp. Granted, this hour is not quite as early as the polar bear swims I recall from my youth (nor is the weather as cold,) but the experience feels similar. I am part of something larger than myself- and it is about more than just awakening early to see a film. This is an adventure.

Not only is the 8 a.m. movie a great way to avoid the lines that precede the afternoon and evening film fest screenings, but also, for those of us who are early risers, it provides an interesting and amusing morning activity to do while our slumber-craving loved ones sleep in.  Most importantly, it delivers entry into a distinctive club of fun-loving trendsetters who like to try new things.

By the time the film lets out, my husband will just be waking up and we will have the entire day to enjoy together. Long live The Breakfast Club!

Film Fest Theater

The Breakfast Clubbers queue up

State Street, Saturday morning at 7:20 a.m.

This morning in my exercise class, Jenny Schatzle—top fitness guru, motivational speaker and today’s lead trainer—shared an inspirational story that I believe bears further sharing. Here goes.

A regular participant in Jenny’s exercise program went on a cruise last week. One day aboard the ship, this man joined an exercise class. During the class, the trainer challenged the class to hold a “plank” for as long as possible. There was a 78-year-old man in the class who didn’t even know what a plank was. So, the trainer demonstrated. Soon after, each class member assumed the position. One by one, each person in the class dropped down from his/her plank. Ultimately, the only person remaining in the plank was the 78-year-old man who held his plank for 14 minutes! The trainer and classmates were incredulous; no one had ever seen anything like this. When asked how he was able to hold his plank for so long, the older man responded: “I’ve never done a plank before, so I didn’t set any limits on myself.”

This was an “A-ha” moment for everyone in that cruise ship exercise class and for everyone in my class (including me) this morning. After sharing this story, Jenny challenged us to refrain from the boundaries, limits and preconceived notions we impose on ourselves—not just in the gym, but at work, in our relationships and in all aspects of life. We were encouraged to look around the room, as Jenny pointed out the wide diversity of people: young and old, tall and short, some super-fit, some not-so-fit, a variety of jobs and professions—from CEO’s of major corporations to janitors, bus drivers, teachers, homemakers, doctors, students and everything in between.

In Jenny’s classes, there are no judgments or comparisons of who is better or worse—only a group of individuals who are fulfilling their potential each day not just to be stronger, faster and fitter, but also, to be better, kinder, friendlier people.

Living life without self-imposed limits and expectations of who we should be is very liberating indeed.  It frees me to be my best self, whomever I choose to be… today and always.

Holding the plank with no limits!