For many years now I have listened to the stories of people with cancer and other life-threatening illnesses as their counselor. From them I have learned how to enjoy the minute particulars of life once again, the grace of a hot cup of coffee, the presence of a friend, the blessing of having a new cake of soap or an hour without pain. Such humble experience is the stuff that many of the very best stories are made of. If we think we have no stories it is because we have not paid enough attention to our lives. Most of us live lives that are far richer and more meaningful than we appreciate.

Being safe is about being seen and heard and allowed to be who you are and to speak your truth.

Being alive is being aware, being able to be touched and moved and changed, being able to respond rather than to react, being able to see and hear.

It has been my experience that presence is a more powerful catalyst for change than analysis.

I had thought joy to be rather synonymous with happiness, but it seems now to be far less vulnerable than happiness. Joy seems to be a part of an unconditional wish to live, not holding back because life may not meet our preferences and expectations. Joy seems to be a function of the willingness to accept the whole, and to show up to meet with whatever is there. It has a kind of invincibility that attachment to any particular outcome would deny us.

Our listening creates a sanctuary for the homeless parts within another person.

It is not that we have a soul, but that we are a soul.