If I can survive it, so can you.

Too many years ago, I was in a wonderful play, The Other Place by Sharr White. I loved this play and the woman I had the honor to portray. She is a scientist who studies early onset dementia. And, unbeknownst to her, she suffers from early onset dementia.

For this role I was on stage for 90 minutes, an unreliable narrator hoping to find her long lost daughter. The other actors disappear into the audience when not on stage. My words trigger the next scene. Or not.

In previews, I lost my way…Read on

This morning I took my dog on a walk in the woods. A place I’d never been. At some point I realized I was lost. I went around a bend, hoping to see a familiar landmark, but found a whole new path. I knew exactly what I needed to do next: panic. My heart started racing. My voice went up an octave, “It’s OK, Harpo, we’ll make it home…” My eyes darted here and there. I started running through the wet, tick-infested poison ivy. Rounding the corner, I came across a big log to sit on with a sign reading, “Breathe. Listen.” I stopped. Looked around for the wood nymph, Puck, playing games with me. Then, I laughed and followed Puck’s wise advice. I sat down. I took a deep, fresh breath. I listened. I heard the wind. A bird. And then soft voices. And a car. Aha! That way!

This is exactly what I say to clients when they get lost on stage.

Breathe. Listen. The way home will become apparent.

This is what I practice with my clients:…Read on.