I spent the past beautiful summer weekend holed up inside Colorado College’s concert hall, listening to pianists of all ages and nationalities competing to win the Rocky Mountain Amateur Piano Competition. All were amateurs, someone who does not teach or play the piano for their...
I often receive phone calls from parents of adult children in their 20’s and early 30’s looking for counseling for their kids. This group of young adults has yet to define themselves; they are sometimes called Generation Y, Millennials, and Echo Boomers. They are the...
It’s not the wildflowers or the long sunny days that let me know summer is in full swing, it’s that Susie has stopped coming to counseling. Many of her complaints—dissatisfaction with her house, her family, her job, her friendships—can be “fixed” by the change in...
Susie sits sobbing talking once more about her husband. “He’s a good father and a sweet man. He’s never cheated on me; all my friends tell me I’m really lucky to be married to such an amazing man.” I sit quietly, waiting for the kernel...
The weather’s finally warm enough for your friends and relatives to come up the hill for a picnic. The afternoon seems to go fairly well. Your niece in now a vegan, but her grandmother saves the day by bringing tofu hotdogs. Everyone’s talking about your...
A man sits in front of me exploring if he wants to leave his wife. Before he came to me he weighed the pros and cons, had an affair, re-committed to his wife, talked with friends and searched for advice on the internet. But now...
Last week I was having lunch with a fellow counselor who practices in Boulder. We were discussing rates and she asked me what I charged per session. Knowing my fee was less than hers I hemmed and hawed before finally telling her. Her loud reaction...
I sat in a state of shock, hoping my face appeared somewhat neutral. A ten year old girl was sharing with me what happened to her father. “He was mad all the time,” she whispered. “He was mad, then sad, then…,” her voice trailed off....
I stood staring at the Victorian apartment house in front of me. I could feel eyes peeking at me from behind the smudged curtains and broken blinds. I knew if I didn’t get moving quickly someone would come out and ask me if...
Here I was, 20 years old, volunteering in Ciudad Juárez, Mexico at an orphanage and medical clinic. It was two in the morning and I was waiting for bread to rise with a group of Mexican women. We had just gotten a large donation of...
