There is something wonderfully grounding about having the whole family together again.

This weekend, our son is home from Korea for a short visit, and our daughter cleared her weekend to be with us. Somehow, despite busy lives, different schedules and miles between us, we all found our way to the cottage. That, in itself, feels like something worth celebrating.

The cottage, tucked close to my parents’ home, has become one of those special places where generations come together. This weekend, my brother and sister-in-law and nephews are coming too, and we will gather around a family meal hosted by my brother and sister in law. There will be food, stories, laughter, catching up and probably a little chaos, the good kind that comes when everyone you love is in the same place.

What do you have in abundance?

When we hear the word abundance, our minds can easily wander toward money, possessions or the things we have accumulated. However, I’ve come to think that abundance has very little to do with how much we have and much more to do with what we have to give.

Perhaps you have a garden that has gone a little wild with tomatoes, zucchini and herbs, or a fruit tree producing far more apples or pears than you could possibly eat. Maybe your abundance is an extra chair around your kitchen table, a little more time in your day, a talent you’ve spent years developing or knowledge that could make someone else’s journey a little easier. Perhaps you have a wonderful sense of humour, a listening ear, a warm heart or simply the energy to check in on someone who could use a little company.

September 21: Playing Host in Your Own City

There is something wonderfully refreshing about hosting friends in your own city. Suddenly, the place you call home looks a little different. You find yourself looking at familiar streets through their eyes, and somehow the ordinary becomes interesting again.

Here in Fredericton, there are places I can walk past without giving them a second thought, the little art galleries tucked into corners, the craft shops filled with treasures, the coffee shops where I know exactly what I’m ordering, and the farmers’ market where I can easily spend more money than I intended because, apparently, I needed that amazing cheese.

Somewhere along the way to becoming adults, many of us seem to have forgotten how to play.

We get busy with work, errands, responsibilities and the endless little things that fill our days. Yet there is something wonderfully uncomplicated about sitting around a table with friends and a deck of cards, opening up a board game, challenging someone to a game of chess or checkers, or gathering a group together for an escape room. For a little while, the grown-up world can wait.

Some moments are meant to be more than something we simply put on the calendar. They are meant to be experienced, shared and carried with us long after we leave.

Last night in Moncton, we had the pleasure of seeing Sam Demma launch his new book, Return on Goodwill. But really, it felt like much more than a book launch. It was an evening about people, about the way we see one another, the choices we make, and the small acts of kindness and connection that can ripple much farther than we might ever know.

There is something about music that reaches places words simply cannot.

It can take us back to a childhood kitchen, a first dance, a long ago road trip or a song that somehow became the soundtrack to an entire chapter of our lives. Sometimes we hear the first few notes and, before we even realize it, we are right back there, remembering a person, a place, a feeling.

Perhaps that is why music is such a beautiful part of travel. We don’t just see a country; we hear it.

Yoga has a funny way of reminding us that we don’t need much to feel better. A little space, a few quiet minutes and a willingness to slow down can be enough.

At home, yoga can become part of the rhythm of everyday life. We roll out the mat before the day gets busy, stretch after a long day, or take a few minutes to breathe when our minds are running in twelve different directions. There’s no need for perfect poses or an impressive level of flexibility. Sometimes the most useful practice is simply showing up and noticing how your body feels today.

Where do you find your joy?

Sometimes we think joy has to be something BIG.

A fabulous vacation. A beautiful home. A fancy dinner. A bucket-list adventure.

Don’t get me wrong…

I am absolutely in favour of a fabulous vacation and a good dinner!

But some of life’s sweetest moments don’t cost a thing.

It’s the song that comes on and suddenly you’re dancing around the kitchen.

It’s the way your heart opens when you see someone you love.

There is something wonderfully refreshing about hosting friends in your own city. Suddenly, the place you call home looks a little different. You find yourself looking at familiar streets through their eyes, and somehow the ordinary becomes interesting again.

Here in Fredericton, there are places I can walk past without giving them a second thought, the little art galleries tucked into corners, the craft shops filled with treasures, the coffee shops where I know exactly what I’m ordering, and the farmers’ market where I can easily spend more money than I intended because, apparently, I needed that amazing cheese.

Some friendships are built over coffee. Others over long walks, shared adventures, or a glass of wine at sunset. And then there are the friendships built around the simple question, “What are you cooking?”

Foodie friends are a special kind of people. They are the ones you can talk to for far too long about a great little restaurant you discovered, the perfect way to prepare a fish, where to find the best ingredients, or the recipe you absolutely have to try. They understand that food is rarely just food. It is culture, creativity, comfort, connection and sometimes a love language all its own.

September 14: Making Room for More

Have you ever opened a closet and thought…

“Where did all this stuff come from?”

Somehow, over the years, our homes can collect layers.

Things we bought. Things we were given. Things we thought we might need someday. Things we haven’t used in years but keep because they hold a memory.

Before we know it, our treasures have become stuff. Lots and lots of stuff. That stuff can begin to feel like it’s taking up more than physical space.

Sometimes in life, you really do get the luck of the draw.

Not because everything falls perfectly into place, but because every once in a while, the right people, the right opportunity and the right adventure seem to find their way to you at exactly the right time.

I think about that a lot when it comes to pickleball.

You might show up for the game thinking you’re there to play a sport, and before long, you’re laughing with people you barely knew that morning. A few games become familiar faces, familiar faces become friendships, and suddenly you’re looking forward to the people as much as you’re looking forward to playing.

Have you ever noticed that life has a funny way of changing the itinerary without asking permission?

You make your plans, know where you’re going.

You have the house, the job, the relationship, the routine, the comfortable little life you’ve created.

Then suddenly, life moves the departure gate.

A home, job, and relationship sometimes changes. You move to a new city. Friends come and go. Your priorities change.

Sometimes you choose the change. Sometimes change chooses you.

Have you ever done something kind for someone when you knew you’d get absolutely nothing in return?

No thank-you. No recognition. No applause. Nobody even knew you did it.

Do it anyway.

Because doing the right thing isn’t about being seen.

It’s about who we are when nobody is watching.

That’s integrity.

And just like any muscle, integrity gets stronger when we exercise it.

Every day is another opportunity to flex that muscle at home, at work, on vacation, in our communities and even when we’re far away from the people who know us.

What if we looked at the world through the lens of love?

Not necessarily the grand, romantic kind, but the everyday kind that makes us pause, notice someone else and think, “How can I make this person’s day a little better?”

We live among people with different cultures, languages, beliefs, experiences and perspectives. Yet underneath all those differences, there is something wonderfully familiar. We all want to feel loved, valued, safe and connected. We all experience joy and disappointment, laughter and loss, hope and uncertainty.