Hello, my friend!
This morning, before five, the bird songs pulled me out of bed. By the time I was sitting under the maple tree watching the goslings on the pond, a question had arrived that I couldn’t shake. I want to bring it to you.
↓ In today’s email:
- This week’s inspiration: Your own optimal
- Latest blog post: Acupuncture demystified
- What I re-read this week: My 2026 goals
This Week’s Inspiration: Your Own Optimal
I woke up early this morning, maybe at five or a little before, and of course rolled over with the desperate need of more sleep. But with a window slightly ajar, the vibrations of all the bird songs seemed to move through me. Cells dancing, Qi moving, and I got out of bed.
The grass was freshly mowed yesterday, and the cow parsley in the field has an aroma that reminds me of somewhere. I think maybe Chianti in the summer. Not the wine, but the wine region.
My husband made a little seat for me underneath a maple tree overlooking the expansive pond. Sitting there with my dog by my side and the rope swing hanging from the tree, I could see two pairs of geese with their recently hatched goslings. One couple had eight; the other two.
Instead of meditating, I noticed the pairing off of all creatures. The iridescent tree swallows chased each other, and the little black birds with orange wing, too. The earth was so alive, and within it I felt optimal.
In the spirit of that feeling, I want us to do some soul-searching about how we feel optimal, when we felt most alive, and whether there are ways to bring that remembrance and vitality into our day-to-day lives.
I’ll digress for a moment. My clients come back with blood work that says they are "normal," although they feel horrendous. This begs the question: if our general cohort is so unwell. If our lab ranges fall within "normal," does that mean we are well? Or does it mean we’re just as unwell as everybody else, which at this point is normal?
On this Memorial Day weekend, let’s consider when we have felt our best. How has it lived in our bodies, and how do we seek out that feeling, that setting? Maybe that petri dish — but not in the yucky sense. What was that environment that allowed us, in the past, to thrive? Can we make strides to recapturing that again and imbuing it into the months to come?
I asked my husband this morning what thriving looks like for him this summer. I’m asking myself too. I’m hoping for picnic dinners on the Newport lawns to see a film festival showing or two, a classical concert from the Pudding Stone Music Festival. A book launch of a dear friend in Manhattan. Evenings of salsa outside, friends sitting around the fire late into the night under the stars, with the occasional coyote howl and the distant smell of the ocean. Dinner parties, medium-sized and big. Gatherings of friends and creatives with kindness and lightness of heart.
And as somebody who connects so much with others, getting to my optimal state will also include lots of time alone. Unstructured time. Time to read, enjoy the rays of light, and get back to painting, something I did so much long before I had children, when I had gobs of time. There’s a cottage in my yard that lies empty, awaiting an inhabitant. Not just the family of hedgehogs that lives under it, but the inhabitant that could be, indeed, me, to move inside from time to time and make some art that so badly wants to be created now that time and energy are available.
Bringing my health to an optimal place is about joy and fun and soulful friendships and quiet time. How is it for you? And how do you intend to get yourself back to a place where you felt the most alive?
Latest Blog Post
Acupuncture Demystified: What I Tell Every Patient Who Asks
If you ever wondered how acupuncture works, this blog post is for you. It will also help to demystify some of the magic that goes on. As we’re beginning to have tools to understand what happens in the fascial planes, the interstitium, and the cascade your body sets off in response.
(In writing this post, I put three needles in my own body in an empty treatment room and saw a strange yellow exotic bird I’m fairly certain doesn’t exist in nature. Make of that what you will.)
What I Re-Read This Week
My 2026 Goals
Six months ago, did you write down your hopes, dreams, aspirations, and goals for 2026? I did too. So this week, six months in, I’m doing a little bit of checking in, re-reading those resolutions to see how I am doing, knowing full well I’ll be writing a whole new list in six months.
Have you checked in with yourself?
Halfway through the year is a good moment to look back. What still matters? What quietly shifted? I find the interesting part isn’t what I crossed off. It’s what I wrote in January that I’d forgotten I wanted.
In that vein, happy Memorial Day, and happy unofficial start to summer. Wishing you a joyous and capacious heart, and time to dance under the stars.
Dr. Catherine