Thursday, December 31, 2015


Dear All,
Just had my one year full body scan and got the ALL CLEAR! Got me thinking about the New Year & the idea of clarity and a memory I have from years ago. As a young mother I loved carrying Sophie in a front pack while walking along a promenade that followed the curves of an oxbow on the Missouri river near my house. Each week I’d pass one house in particular where an older couple lived. 
Fridays was window-washing day apparently, and she stood, in apron and hair scarf, on the inside of their grand bay window. He, in overalls and a feedcap was on the outside. With window cleaner & rags in hand, they each did their part. She wiped only up & down, he only side to side. In this way they knew whose streaks needed tending and how to get the cleanest windows to insure their pristine water view. Around this time with the New Year about to begin, I think about them, their routine, their goal, their simple division of labor and how I often yearn for the same things: clarity, vision & a view!
Mary's Cove, Nova Scotia, Fall 2015

My wish for this year beyond good health for all & peace in our crazy world is that we each have clarity in our relationships both at home & beyond and clarity in our goals, personal & professional. May we continue to envision & cultivate a peaceful and healthy planet and may we each have time to take in and appreciate the views along the way. Happy New Year from our home to yours!   

Love & light,

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Short Videos about Breast Cancer

In August 2014, after completing my care for breast cancer & before the ovarian cancer diagnosis, I was at my national convention in Arizona. Colleagues were making videos of NDs speaking on various topics. I declined the invitation to speak about my experience with breast cancer; one reason is that I did not want myself frozen in that time and didn't want to focus on what I'd just been through. But a friend & colleague, Rick Brinkman ND, who was doing the videoing and would do the editing circled back around to me a few days in and convinced me I should just do it-- could be valuable to people going through something similar. So--- here I am, threw them up on the web in a recent Huffington Post piece, during National Naturopathic Medicine Week earlier this month.
Love & light,

Thursday, August 20, 2015


I finally figured how to wear headphones under my helmut, attach my car key to my rollerblades & tuck a water flask into my waistband. Now  I can rollerblade long swaths of the newly paved, smooth-as-glass bike path, to music I love, and stay hydrated on these 90 degree days. I dancer-blade really, with my arms extended, swaying to the music, my legs kicking out in rhythm to the songs I hear. It’s true, I may look a bit nutty, but I may occasionally look graceful & certainly enraptured.

I keep having experiences like that, where I feel a kind of intensity of aliveness, pleasure, connection & joy. It’s not like I never felt these things before, but this year, everything measures up in contrast to last year; it’s as if my life used to be in black & white & now it’s all in Technicolor.

I felt that on the dance floor tonight with a favorite partner, eating a peach at the kitchen table this afternoon with the sun streaming across the tablecloth, with a long time patient of mine yesterday morning in the clinic. It’s a kind of openness to experience and an appreciation of all the small things that add up together to make my life as I love it. 

I had the distinct pleasure of addressing the heart of my profession at our national convention in Oakland earlier this month, in a lecture, CliffNotes from CancerLand, which I rather enjoyed delivering, while a slideshow of choice images from last year played behind me. I shared a bit of my story & some lessons learned. You all know the lessons because you read these posts, so I won’t elaborate!

Suffice it to say, life is coming at us like a strong river these days, with lots of opportunities to enjoy the kids, their shenanigans & achievements. To bear witness to their chasing of their dreams is our parental delight. 

And after lots of travels, it’s pure sweetness to be home, listening as I am tonight to the sound of the crickets, the katydids, the whir of the fan. It’s not a fancy house, ours, but it’s fits just right and I miss it when we're away.

Work is humming along. The practice is back to where it was; it feels good to be back on that side of the medical equation. We are at long last going to teach our NESH course in sunny San Diego starting this winter, our first foray into California. We’ve also taken teaching gigs all over the map, which is a bit terrifying for this itinerant homebody, but we love what we do and accepting opportunities to teach and inspire others feels about right just now. Also advocating for our licensure bill once again, always a good challenge which offers us chances to meet new people and share what we do.

And in what could be filed under the over-achiever category, I proudly completed my first triathlon 6 months to the day after my last chemotherapy. Me doing that race is testament to conventional & naturopathic medicine and my own stubborn belief that I’d come back better than ever. It was helpful to have that goal to drive my already healthy discipline around exercise this year, plus fun to bring the family together on a mission. I believe all cancer survivors/thrivers should train like uber-athletes most every day. Can’t beat the endorphins and let’s face it, in the realm of psycho-neuro-immunology, exercise is king!

During the 5K run, (after the quarter mile swim & 10 mile bike ride,) when I felt a little bored, I went through the extensive thank you roll call of so many of you who sent love & prayers, positive thoughts & cards, brought food, gave massages & offered expertise with medical & healing care. That got me right into the chute & over the finish line, strong & healthy, and happy to be alive! 
I know I am one lucky lady. 
Here we are post race, all smiles wearing our hardware!

Post race, all smiles and sore calves!
Here’s wishing you a sweet rest of summer and a good transition into autumn. I love these long days, these sultry nights and summer farm fresh food, but I also love fall with the crunching leaves and favorite sweaters! 
We can’t go wrong, really.

Love & light


Monday, May 11, 2015


Mother’s Day 2015

With the wind whipping off of Lake Michigan yesterday, and our fancy graduation clothes severely inadequate, we nonetheless whooped and hollered when Jonah, tall and confident, made his way across the stage to accept his college diploma. That's three up, three down for Paul & I, a kind of graduation for us, too! One of my all-time favorite prayers is the shehechayanu, which loosely translates to thanking the powers that be for sustaining us and allowing us to reach this moment. The narrow tunnel I went through last year, makes me even more aware of my blessings and more alive to the poignant moments that string together to make this life I love.

On Mother’s Day today I am thinking about how milestones are stacking up for our kids, as they reach for their dreams, live the lives they want and outfit themselves for futures they envision. Diana Nyad, the famous long distance swimmer & athlete extraordinaire, gave a rousing commencement address, urging grads to relentlessly grab for their highest aspirations. Channeling the poet Mary Oliver, she quoted, “…what is it you’re doing with this one wild and precious life of yours?” a line we all need to hear about once a day!  

The student speaker was equally inspiring, recollecting homosapien forbearers deciding to make their mark on cave walls with hand prints, raising his own hand he asked, what kind of mark will you make? I think about being a mother and how the marks I make include my kids and how they go forward to make their own marks--and so the generations go! What a blessing to be a mother, with all the craziness, the constancy, the exhilaration, the worry, times of bewilderment and times of fascination, the bits of self-discovery that go along with the territory, all the pride and gratitude. 

Paul & I took a Architecture of Chicago Boat tour today (highly recommended!) with Jonah before hopping on our flights home. Our guide described the mind-boggling engineering feat of changing the direction of flow of the Chicago River in the beginning of last century to help improve water quality, among other things, for the city. For me, the direction of flow of love between us and our kids flows both ways now with some serious current and sustains us all.

Sometimes all the pomp & circumstance of a formal graduation seem longwinded or pretentious. But not this time. It feels like we are all graduating from one thing or another at any given moment: a recent challenge, a course of study, one phase of life evolving to the next, a job or relationship shift, an accomplishment ,big or small,  or simply a realization that shifts our focus or changes the course of our own rivers. I am wishing for myself, my family and all the people we know & love to be fully present and appreciative of life, every step of the way. 

Happy Mother’s Day and Happy Graduation!

Love & light,


Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Monday, March 2, 2015


Dear Friends & Family,

Slicing through warm hotel pool water, doing consecutive laps of freestyle, back stroke & breast stroke, surrounded by tall, rain-green pine trees shimmering in the Seattle rain, I feel like I am in another episode of AMY- SHE'S BACK! Two months since the end of treatment have slid by, happily marked by such points of normalcy, old routines and even some adventure. In ways it seems like there was a crack in my world, the year 2014 fell wholesale into; now it has healed over and I’m not sure I can even locate the crack. Chalk it up to the resilience of the human body, the miracles of conventional medicine especially when coupled with natural medicine support and …..Voila, I'm back, very much like the old Amy, only with curly hair!

Feb camping trip to St John with Misha's Felicia & our dear friend Willie!
I love having a whole lot of energy like I always did, moving this body with pleasure and purpose, walking, dancing, doing yoga, swimming. I love being back in the saddle at work, helping other people find ways to better health, and teaching our students near & far. Of course I also love having time to myself, time for Paul, time for other pursuits, i.e., time NOT running to medical appointments! I have the occasional day where I nap long deep sleeps, which I must still need and rather enjoy. I experience a bit of PTSD, not that anything in particular was so traumatic, except the whole shebang! I am doing some short term, pointed therapy to help my nervous system & my psyche let go of all that. But as my (first time ever) therapist says, I am “well resourced,” and I guess figured out much of this, unbeknownst to me, on my own.

Thank you to everyone who has checked up on me these past weeks. It is a strange phenomenon to go from a pretty constant state of focusing on healing, keeping my eyes on THAT ball, to being free. And in my definition of health there is a whole lot of freedom: freedom from thinking about health, freedom from discomforts or pain, freedom to experience a wide range of emotions in a happy balance. Many of you have asked if I am worried about the cancer coming back. I’m pretty sure that anyone who has had cancer thinks about that, but I’m good at thought stopping and ultimately, I know worrying doesn’t help. I’m clear and calm knowing I did every possible thing in my power to make that not happen. I do not have to change much in my pristine lifestyle, just have to keep it up, which as you know, comes easy for me.

Before I was diagnosed with cancer I had be wondering about my next incarnation in this life, what else I might try or do, experience or create. I put all that on the back burner last year but have found it simmering up front again. I do not know what the future holds, who really does? But I am spending time consciously open to the possibilities and trying to listen in the quiet spaces to the yearnings of my heart.

My birthday is next week on Pi Day (3.14), so have a slice of pie and think of me! I cannot say I am sorry to close the chapter on year 54. That said, though it may not have been my brightest hour, that whole experience shed light on my patience AND my fortitude right nearby my mortality. I don't recommend using this approach to garner such self-knowledge, but!! That twelve-month interlude showcased the incredible, devoted, unwavering man by my side and highlighted the broad & loving community of people that make my life worth living. I am someone who tries to be present & appreciative of my many blessings, and last year, with all its ups & downs, provided endless opportunities for that.  I may as well capitalize on perspectives gained and carry some of these new bits of understanding forward. Here’s to a beautiful, long-awaited, reawakening spring for us all; I hope our paths cross soon.
Love & light,


Monday, January 5, 2015


Dear Friends & Family,

At my very first chemo-extravaganza last winter, Paul set us up to watch our first episode of Downton Abbey. During the slow times last year, we watched it all, including the bootleg version of Season 5, which we just finished off. Decided to underscore our viewership by attending the Dowtown Abbey Ball this Saturday night, a fundraiser for our local public TV station. Here we are with dear friend (& acupuncturist extraordinaire,) Lynn Curry, where we ballroom-danced the night away to The Masterpiece Ballroom Orchestra, playing period music, think: Foxtrot! The point being, even at the tail end of the cumulative chemo-rah-rah, Paul doing the lion’s share of cheerleading, information gathering, emotional support and random heavy lifting this elongated, somewhat strange year …. I think we still clean up pretty darn good!

Downton Abbey Ball January 3, 2015. The Log Cabin, Holyoke MA
Also this:  a neighbor called a few days back to tell us a bobcat had just walked through his backyard and was heading to ours. Perched from our upstairs bathroom window, binoculars fetched, Paul & I watched incredulously as the stubby-tailed, broad- shouldered, tawny cat slinked through the raspberry patch and around the garden gate. Bob came to stand sentry at the (one of our sad to say, many) groundhog holes, then sat majestically back on his spotted-like-a leopard-hind legs a moment, and poked a curious, husky paw into the opening. He soon gave up and sauntered across the lawn to our fire circle where he hopped up, like a tiger at a circus show, onto one of the tall log stump seats, lingering a bit before nonchalantly ambling off, stage right.

As I lay in the reclining chair today taking in what I hope to be my last-ever chemo cocktail, I thought about that cat, comfortable in an unfamiliar setting, but not too interested in sticking around. That’s how I feel about this year. I was comfortable enough in the medical worlds but BOY, am I ready to move along. Of course there are scans and blood tests and lots of follow up, which I aim to do with my usual cheerful demeanor; I will stay with the pristine lifestyle and all the prayer, song, dance, time with loved ones, satisfying work, etc., I can muster. I know with a confident mind and strong heart I have done everything in my power and taken advantage of all that both conventional and natural medicine has to offer. Really, all I can do is hope for the best.

I will sign off today wishing you every blessing and with my deepest gratitude for your year’s worth of being there for me in the myriad of ways you have shown up: prayers, humor, cards, little gifts, food, love and care-- I will not soon forget your kindnesses and the time you took to be with me in your own way. And god-willing, I will soon be back to my usual posture of giving-more-than-taking from this life-affirming-community pie!
Love & light,