Health psychologist offering individual therapy to help with depression, anxiety, and addiction. Author of Path to Hope.
Also offering intensives, courses, and therapeutic art journaling. Health psychologist, meditation teacher, and artist offering therapy, creative intensives, and supportive spaces like the Hope Springs Community and Caregivers Circle.
26/02/2026
Presence isn’t a personality trait.
It’s an energy rhythm.
This week on Substack, I wrote about something simple but powerful: many of us don’t have a focus problem — we have a rhythm problem.
Your brain works in waves. Engagement… then depletion. Effort… then recovery.
When we ignore that, presence turns into strain.
As we approach the time change and shifting light, it’s a good moment to ask:
Am I working with my energy — or against it?
The full reflection and practice are on Substack. Link in comments.
24/02/2026
Join us in Clifton Park or via Zoom.
24/02/2026
There’s a subtle difference between being present and being prepared.
Many of us have learned to brace.
Shoulders slightly lifted.
Jaw tight.
Attention scanning before it settles.
Bracing helps us function.
But it isn’t the same as presence.
As I prepare for a retreat this week, I’m reminded how quickly nervous systems soften when there’s structure and safety. We don’t need to hold everything at once.
As February closes, I’m asking myself:
Where am I still bracing?
And what would it feel like to soften — even for an hour?
Try this tonight:
Drop your shoulders slightly.
Soften your jaw.
Lengthen one exhale.
Notice what shifts.
Full reflection is on Substack. Link in comments.
What helps you soften when you catch yourself bracing?
21/02/2026
When You’re Tired but Still On Alert
There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that doesn’t look dramatic.
You’re still functioning.
Still showing up.
Still responsible.
But everything feels heavier than it should.
Decisions take more effort.
Starting feels harder.
The future feels narrower.
Psychologists sometimes call this a loss of agency — the quiet shrinking of your sense that action matters and pathways exist.
It doesn’t happen because you’re weak.
It happens when your nervous system has been on alert for too long.
Rest is not indulgence.
It is what restores cognitive flexibility.
It widens the future again.
It gives you back your capacity to move.
I wrote more about this in today’s Substack, including a simple weekend framework for reclaiming that steadiness.
If this resonates, you can read it through the link in comments.
And if you’re feeling ready for something deeper, Whispers of Hope — my small, signature creative retreat — is built around this exact principle: presence without vigilance.
Registration closes April 19.
Limited to 10 participants.
19/02/2026
Whispers of Hope – A Spring Creative Retreat
By the end of April, something begins to shift.
Light lingers longer. The ground softens. Windows open. After a long winter, there’s often a quiet sense that something in us is ready to move again — gently, not urgently.
This spring, I’ll be offering Whispers of Hope at Notre Dame Retreat House.
It is a small, intentionally designed creative retreat centered on journaling, intuitive painting, and reflective practice. No experience is required. The emphasis is not on producing art, but on using creative process as a way to listen inward and reconnect with forward movement.
We’ll move between guided journaling, intuitive painting sessions, quiet time, and thoughtful conversation. The rhythm is structured but spacious — designed to help you step out of daily demands and into a more present, creative way of thinking and feeling.
This is not a performance space. It is not about getting it “right.” It is about allowing what has been dormant to surface in its own time.
The group will be intentionally small to allow for depth and integration.
If you’ve been craving light, clarity, or a creative way to welcome spring, I’d love to have you join us.
Details and registration are available at link in comments, purchase your ticket now or add your name to the list. I'd be happy to answer your questions or work with you for other arrangements.
17/02/2026
What has your system adapted to?
Not what you believe.
Not what you prefer.
Not what you value.
But what your body has learned to expect.
Many of us are living in patterns that once made sense — vigilance, staying ahead, anticipating, managing, bracing. Those adaptations may have been necessary. They may even have been wise.
But over time, what helped us survive can quietly become what exhausts us.
This week on Substack, I’m writing about presence through a slightly different lens — not as a performance or a mindset shift, but as a nervous system recalibration.
You don’t have to “call yourself out.”
You don’t have to relive anything.
You simply begin to notice.
What has my system adapted to?
Is that still what I need?
If this resonates, the full reflection (with gentle practices) is in today’s post.
Link in comments.
And if you feel comfortable sharing:
What is one small way you’re allowing your system to soften lately?
10/02/2026
Friendship feels harder for many people right now — not because we care less, but because life is more complex and we’re changing.
I’m hearing questions about friendship in my work:
What does it mean to be a good friend when we don’t see things the same way?
How do we stay connected without overextending ourselves?
How do we remain present without disappearing?
This week on Substack, I’m exploring presence in friendship — noticing what kind of connection we need and how we want to be available to others in this season of life.
Presence isn’t agreement.
It isn’t obligation.
And it isn’t self-erasure.
It’s honesty, steadiness, and choosing connection that can be sustained.
If friendship feels tender, uncertain, or simply different than it once did, you’re not alone. Sometimes the most important work is pausing long enough to ask:
What kind of friendship would support me right now?
More reflections and practices are up on Substack. If you're local join me at Grasse River Grind for a creative exploration of The Art of Friendship.
Links in comments.
07/02/2026
Presence doesn’t have to be big to be real.
Today I’m writing about micro-presence—the small moments of contact that help us stay steady in real life, not ideal conditions.
I share a simple story from a quiet day of knitting: how adding a few stitch markers brought me back to the pattern again and again without effort or judgment. It made me wonder where else we might add gentle “return points” to our days.
This reflection includes:
• why brief moments of presence actually help the nervous system
• a 10-second practice you can use anywhere
• a reframing of presence as contact, not performance
You can read the full piece on Substack.
If it speaks to you, you’re welcome to linger with it—or save it for a moment when you need a small way back.
Link in comments.
02/02/2026
This morning, before sunrise, the full moon lit fresh snow—quiet enough to see every set of tracks left overnight.
Groundhog Day isn’t really about a day repeating.
It’s about what happens when we don’t change inside it.
In the movie Groundhog Day, the loop doesn’t break through effort or control. It breaks when Phil stops trying to escape the day and starts paying attention to it—listening, noticing, responding instead of reacting.
Presence changes how we inhabit a moment.
I was reminded of that recently while noticing animal tracks in the snow. A few years ago, a woodchuck once ran across my foot while I was rushing to load my car. I startled so hard I kicked my leg like a Rockette. Most people laughed and understood the fear. But a friend gently said, “I think I would have said, good morning, little guy.”
At the time, that felt impossible.
Today, I notice more. I pause. Sometimes I even greet the unseen companions who pass through before dawn.
The world didn’t change.
I did.
Presence doesn’t make the day special.
It makes it real again.
Read more in a Groundhog Day free Substack....link in comments.
Reflection question:
Where might your day feel different if you paused long enough to enter one ordinary moment instead of rushing through it?
28/01/2026
Sometimes finding your footing isn’t about motivation or willpower.
It’s about pausing long enough — especially when energy is limited or responsibility is high — to feel your feet on the floor and notice where you actually are.
When we approach those moments with compassion rather than self-evaluation, it becomes safer to steady ourselves and choose how to move forward.
I’ve shared more about working with intention this way — as orientation rather than pressure — in today’s Substack reflection.
Linktree will help you find my Substack and other work, link in comments.
24/01/2026
When conditions are extreme—cold, snow, or strain of any kind—our relationships with care tend to show themselves.
Some of us prepare.
Some reach outward.
Some minimize.
Some push through.
None of these responses are wrong. They’re learned.
But when energy is limited, care isn’t something we add later.
Care is what allows daily life, relationships, and creativity to continue.
Preservation isn’t indulgence.
It’s what sustains what matters.
I write more about care, intention, and meeting harsh conditions with steadiness (and even a bit of play) in today’s Substack reflection.
You’re welcome to read it now—or save it for a quieter moment. Link in comments.
20/01/2026
This week on Substack, I’m writing about intention in real bodies.
Not the kind of intention that lives only in the mind—but the kind that adjusts when energy shifts, when fatigue lingers, or when the body sets the pace.
Listening to the body isn’t about giving up or doing less. It’s about orientation—understanding where we are so we can stay in relationship with our lives without harm.
If you’ve been carrying on through exhaustion or overriding your body’s signals, this reflection may meet you gently.
You’re welcome to read along, link in comments.
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Hope Springs is a workshop for those who want to live with intention and embrace a future filled with hope. I’m a curious person and a lifelong learner. I hold a Ph.D. in health psychology, and a Masters Degree in clinical mental health counseling. I am a National Certified Counselor.
What that means for people who work with me is that I am trained to help with a wide range of issues from getting stuck in your creative process to anxiety or insomnia and everything in between. I offer packages of services utilizing the best available evidence based practices for issues such as insomnia and management of chronic pain as well as individual counseling focused on individual concerns.
Creative expression, whether painting, journaling, or writing, is an important part of my life and my work. Whether you are already involved in creative activities or are ready to add creative expression to your personal toolbox, I can help you to overcome barriers and nurture your creative mind. Creative expression is particularly helpful for people as they heal from grief or trauma.
I meet people where they are, listen to what concerns them, and work with them to develop strategies to bring about the healing and growth they long for in their lives. My practice is designed to allow you to work with me from a place where you are comfortable and to provide you with a variety of tools to address your challenges and reach your goals.
For more information on working with me, send me a message through this page or on my website www.hopespringsresources.com
