I hate to brag, but I consider myself a world-class thrifter and consignment shop guru. It’s all I can do to contain myself when a psychotherapy client tells me about their thrifting adventures – I want to trade stories of our conquests and even run up to my closet for a quick show and tell.
When I was informed that I had qualified to play tennis in this year’s National Senior Olympic Games in Albuquerque, it was a kind of dream come true.
I’m always curious about learning new health habits that are super effective but also fun. My firm belief is that if it’s not fun, it’s not sustainable. Life is full of unpleasant tasks, so why make exercise one of them? If ‘bootcamp’ is in the name, count me out.
As a psychotherapist and podcaster, I thought I had pretty much mastered the art of conversation. Sure, I knew I had a couple of bad habits, like interrupting and repeating myself, and I’ve had clients get confused at my multi-part questions.
Tennis is a complicated, beautiful game where there are many skills to master – and strategies to learn. But it also acts as a mirror, illuminating our relationship with ourselves and others, and presents wonderful opportunities to practice mindfulness.
There’s a tract of wooded land not far from my son’s old high school. I find it simply magical. Right on the edge of the suburbs, it offers deep forest, limestone cliffs, ferns, moss, lichen and forest creatures.
I just returned from the New York State Senior Olympics, held about an hour from my home. I played both singles and doubles tennis.
Have you heard all the buzz about this brand-new way to bring calm and happiness to your life? It’s called IPP – the Intermittent Pleasure Practice.
Any excitement I had for my son preparing to go 2700 miles away to college has been replaced by an aching, heavy heart. And because it’s such a big transition for both of us, I suggested he take his dog with him – a 14-pound Jack Russell with a big personality.
I’ve been a psychotherapist for 25 years, and I think I’m pretty good at it. I can empathize with all kinds of people, and I’m surprised sometimes how easy it is to feel connected to a client’s suffering with whom I would never cross paths outside of my office.