The Wizard of Oz is very much an inspiration for the creation of this website, as much as it is for my current therapeutic approach. I practice therapy listening intently for the places of hope in between the confusion, overwhelm, and exhaustion that brings people in. Therapy is a place of irreality because, let’s be real, even when it is known as a safe space we know that the problems are very much real—and even on a day of breakthrough, you don’t walk out of the office (or log off the computer) in Oz. And yet there is something incredibly powerful, irreplaceable, even magical connection when you and your therapist “get there”. The story of this website is that it starts off with my own insecurities, because they are no secret and they are nothing to be ashamed of or surprised about. It’s 2020 and everyone’s gotta feed themselves and their cat!

Dorothy had Toto. I have Tigger. Specifically, a golden tuxedo furball who looks just like Puss in Boots when he wants something from you or is feeling playful. Cats, specifically house cats, are blissfully unaware of everything going on. They still wake up for meals when it is time, and are asleep for the majority of the time. Yawning slowly and meowing a demand for a head massage or playtime (because it has to be on THEIR terms, on THEIR schedule), I am reminded that life, at its fundamental core, is a series of impermanent, daily rhythms of the sun’s rise and fall. We can be a massive heap of our own rhythms usually more scattered and percussive than rhythmic—but we have that natural tendency to gravitate towards our own equilibrium. It might be in a land that seems far far different from life before COVID. But if the story of Oz is an allegory that points to the destination of recovery, perhaps we can take consolation that even if a house falls on our head (and of course it doesn’t just fall on the Witched Witches of the world, if such absolutes do exist (I’m conflicted on that one)), we’re okay. It takes a long healing journey, but we get there.