It’s the small moments

24 Apr 2025 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags:

It was often in small moments that significant things were revealed.

Lisa Kleypas

            Prior to preparing for my morning’s errands, I journaled on my couch, under cozy blankets. I had the feeling emerge of missing my dogs, who laid next to me and kept my company for a span of 18 years.  Their absence and the silence in the home is heavy, and has taken time to adjust to.

I opted to watch several videos I saved on my phone during the pandemic of these two special fur beings.  The videos that I was seeking were not special outings to elaborate places or times I dressed my dogs in hilarious clothes.  What I searched for today were videos of them just napping on blankets in the sun or in between my legs on the same couch I was sitting on now.   I had a video of Bella grooming her, brother Puzo, offering motherly love as she licked and cleaned his eyelids and ears.  It was the hours of down time we spent cuddling that I miss the most.  In those small moments, years of love have been built.

Today was the first day I didn’t cry since Bella died over 6 weeks ago, when watching images of her and Puzo. I was able to extend and appreciate the warmth of those moments now.  I couldn’t help but wonder did I offer them enough love while they were here? Did I show appreciation for the loyal beingness in my life? Did they know how much they meant to me? But I calmed down my grieving heart, and knew by the way they would gaze at me, they appreciated all I shared. They loved the trips we explored, the walks we went on, the countries we lived in, the treats I gave them.  But what I think they loved the most was the small moments we spent on the couch, sleeping, dreaming, and napping in the sun.

Sharing Popcorn

18 Apr 2025 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

            As I go through my belongings and pack for yet another move, I found this tin box that says “Make your own magic.”  Inside exists a little bit of old popcorn.  No, they are not the buttered old kernels that get stuck in your teeth.  This popcorn is something else.   

            Years ago, I attended a workshop led by the infamous author, screenwriter, and teacher Julia Cameron.  She was leading an immersive training on one of her most notable projects: The Artist Way.  This event focused on how one can reconnect or jumpstart their creativity.  There are writing exercises, self-reflective activities, and within a group one can expect sharing.  When this is taught in a group, one thing she had us do was share popcorn.  Popcorn are little wishes, blessings, or compliments one offers other members of the group. She used the metaphor of popcorn, because these statements are quick, joyful, spontaneous, and delicious.  Even if one is a stranger, you must write a positive fortune for this individual.  You can be as creative as you like.

            The 12 Week Artist Way is a project I not only finished, but led many groups over the years.  And sometimes I bring out the popcorn exercise.  In this little tin box, I’ve kept some of these popcorns I have received.  I know if I am feeling down, I can go into this box. 

One I received said: “Your radiate a warmth and calm energy, that feels like it’s about to have a breakthrough.” Another said “Your kind and open heart will always guide you, as your strong connection to your spiritual center. Let this be the sole guide for your life and never ever let this go for anything or anyone.”

            It’s interesting the things we choose to keep over the years.  I move frequently, and have donated, discarded, or upcycled many things.  This little popcorn box is still quite special to me.  I hope you have something like this among your precious belongings.

Old Shoes

11 Apr 2025 Leave a comment

by Dr. Tricia Wolanin in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Walking on Sunset Boulevard in Silverlake with a group of friends on Saturday, a stranger approached me and said “you need new shoes.”  I was surprised at her comment.  We had just finished a delightful meal at a local Thai establishment, after sharing our updated goals for the year and ways we would be accountable to each other.  I opted to wear a pair of white sandals that were made by Minnesota Moccasin company, that had turquoise embellishments.  These were sandals I loved in theory but I wasn’t ready to let go of them.  I wanted to “wear them to the ground,” to know I got the full use out of them.

            “They are not fitting right on you.  You need new shoes.  I need new shoes too.”  My friends looked at her with a sense of curiosity in their faces, as she walked by.  All were wondering was she was trying to sell me shoes?  This was Sunset Boulevard after all.  As she strolled by us, another woman began stating out loud with her dog “We are on Sunset on a Saturday night.” Was she livestreaming on a social media site?  Nope, she was just in the midst of a psychotic episode.  

As we reflected on both of these two women juxtaposed to each other, we walked up a little hill.   A helicopter circled around us.  My friend opened up her neighbor app, which stated an armed individual was nearby.  We didn’t know what to do, keep walking, try to hide?  “Another night in Los Angeles,” one of my friends shared.   Was this a regular night?  A stranger telling you to get new shoes, a psychotic woman, a helicopter police chase, armed gunmen, and processing goals for one’s life with friends at a delicious restaurant.  Perhaps it was a typical day. It was a mixture of wonder, appreciation, fear, confusion, and joy.  This is life in today’s world, and it was playing out in our small atmosphere.

            “You need new shoes.”  Despite all that happened, this was the comment that stayed with me for the rest of the weekend.  Perhaps this woman was right.  Why was I holding onto old shoes trying to get the most use out of them? The fact was the more I used these particular shoes, the less I could use all the other shoes in my closet.  I had more than enough shoes, I didn’t need new ones, I just needed to get rid of these.  And so later in the week, I did just that.  I not only got rid of this particular pair of shoes, but three other ones that were waiting to be given away.  I did it with pleasure, as I offered up space for me to see what I actually own and take joy in using my other belongings.

            This stranger’s comment served as a current lesson in my life.  How often do we take wisdom from strangers or a passerby’s comments?  There are textures to conversations, interpretations we can make from metaphorical statements.  I wasn’t just getting rid of shoes, I was getting rid of that which I have overgrown and that which doesn’t serve me.  I was creating space in my life to welcome in the beauty that already exists.