Tiffany Griffiths, Psy.D. & Associates, Inc.

12/12/2025

12/11/2025

This past week I had the honor of studying with two of the most powerful teachers I’ve ever met: Dalit Eliyahu and Eva Dalak.

Eva is Palestinian. Dalit is Israeli.
They are not “peace activists” in the usual sense of the word — they are peace activators.

What they model is this: peace doesn’t start at the negotiating table or in the streets. It starts inside the human heart.

Through their work, they invite us to:
• sit with our grief and rage
• meet the parts of us that want to fight or shut down
• transform inner conflict instead of exiling it

From that place, something radical happens: the nervous system softens, the story changes, and a different future becomes possible. Watching a Palestinian woman and an Israeli woman hold space together for this kind of healing is one of the most hopeful things I’ve ever witnessed.

If you feel called to be part of this new paradigm of peace — from the inside out — I highly recommend checking them out:
👉 peaceactivation.org

Deep bow to you, Dalit and Eva, for showing us that peace isn’t an idea. It’s a practice, a frequency, and a choice we make over and over again. 🌿✨

A MIND, BODY, & SOUL APPROACH TOPEACEBUILDING FOR TRANSITIONAL TIMESWalk & Lead the Path to Sustainable Peace Learn more What is Peace Activation?We are training the next generation of peacemakers by equipping them with the tools and community of practice to embody peace and lead the collective to....

12/10/2025

I’ve been sitting with just how visionary my friend Leslie really is.

Long before “agrihoods” were a trend, she took her family’s farm in Ohio and asked a radical question:

What if “home” didn’t mean escaping from the land… but living with it?

Aberlin Springs is her answer to that question.

It’s Ohio’s first agri-community, built around a working farm that feeds the people who live there. Residents can walk out their doors into gardens, pastures, a farm market, trails, ponds, and shared gathering spaces. Seasonal organic produce, free-range eggs, and pasture-raised meats come straight from the land beneath their feet.

Kids learn how to collect eggs, care for animals, and plant seeds instead of only learning how to scroll. Neighbors meet over soil and supper rather than just sidewalks and small talk. It’s not perfect, and it’s not for everyone—but it is a living experiment in remembering how close we are to the earth that feeds us.

This is regenerative community in practice.

Regenerative agriculture isn’t just a buzzword. It’s a way of tending land that gives back more than it takes—building soil instead of depleting it, increasing biodiversity instead of stripping it away, storing carbon instead of constantly releasing it. Healthy soil means more resilient food systems, cleaner water, and a real chance at stabilizing our climate.

As Zach Bush, MD often reminds us, the health of the soil, our food, and our bodies is one continuous story. When we heal the ground beneath us, we’re also healing our microbiome, our immunity, our mental health, and our capacity to thrive.

Places like Aberlin Springs embody that truth. They show us that:
• Farm-to-table doesn’t have to be a marketing slogan—it can just be Tuesday night dinner.
• Neighborhoods can actually help protect farmland and forests instead of paving them over.
• Children can grow up knowing what healthy soil smells like, what real food tastes like, and what it feels like to belong—to land and to each other.

Of course it’s complex. Any real attempt to live differently is. Agri-communities come with real questions about access, equity, and how to keep the farming truly regenerative, not just “pretty.” Those conversations matter.

But when I look at Leslie and Aberlin Springs, I see a woman who took illness, adversity, and a family farm and alchemized them into a new model of community. A place where neighbors gather around bonfires and farm tables, where people are re-learning how to be in relationship with the land that sustains them.

In a world that so often feels disconnected, extractive, and rushed, projects like this are not just cute lifestyle choices. They are prototypes for the future.

To me, Aberlin Springs isn’t just a beautiful neighborhood. It’s a prayer in the form of a village:

May we remember how to live close to the soil, close to our food, and close to each other.

Here’s to farmers, visionaries, and community builders like Leslie who are quietly sketching a different kind of tomorrow on the canvas of the earth itself. 🌱💚

In a neighborhood that appeals to people from both the right and the left, residents strive for a finely tuned state of political harmony.

12/09/2025

This past week in Costa Rica with Zach Bush and his extraordinary team cracked something open in me that I didn’t even know was still sealed shut. The experience of stepping into cohesion wasn’t just a retreat—it felt like returning to parts of myself I had abandoned, rejected, or forgotten along the way.

I released emotions I’d buried so deeply they had become indistinguishable from my identity. I began shedding roles and stories that never truly belonged to me. And in their place, a quieter truth emerged: I am nature. There is no separation between my body and the soil, between my breath and the plants, between my inner world and the outer one.

I left Costa Rica with a deeper understanding that everything I need to heal and transform is already within me. The plants simply reminded me. The land held me. And the community—guided by Zach and his team—created the safety and resonance for this remembering.

If there’s anything I hope others take from this, it’s an invitation: reconnect with yourself through nature. Sit with the plants. Pay attention to what your food is telling you. Slow down enough to hear your own biology speaking. There is wisdom in the earth, and there is wisdom in you, and they are not separate.

I’ll be sharing more about Zach and his team’s work, because what they are doing is powerful, deeply needed, and grounded in a vision for human and ecological regeneration. But for today, I’m simply honoring this turning point and the sense of wholeness that is finally beginning to root 🙏.