I admit it: I’m a recovering worrier. I have a long history of worrying, and I learned from the master. My dad had elevated worrying to an art form. It wasn’t until the final months of his life when he truly learned to live in the moment. During my last visit with him, when he was already very ill, he told me how he’d learned to “appreciate every flower, and every butterfly.” It sounds trite, but it resonated deeply with me, coming from a man who had spent so much of his life doing the exact opposite.
I was also fortunate that I had a feline master teacher who showed me Continue Reading