Gently Untangled
June 6
One podcast I follow featured these two words this week. Most listeners would picture hair, yarn, or the thin chain of a necklace.
"Gently untangled."
I think of the metal rings that I use to make chainmail jewelry. They come in a package, their circular selves perfectly formed with a small break on one side where I use pliers to separate, systematically interweave, and ultimately close the rings together to make stunning, unique necklaces and bracelets. Somehow, though, even when my logical brain says it shouldn't happen, the rings come tangled together. They're not open wide enough to link with each other in the package, but inevitably and consistently, they are intertwined in and unwieldy mess.
"Gently untangled."
Of course, the podcaster was not talking about chainmail jewelry rings. She was talking about the meaning we put into our stories, the meshing of truth, emotion, memory, trauma, relationships, intervention, faith, and how our brain tangles everything together. The process of untangling in order to remove the things that hurt, limit, and disqualify us from joy, that is a tough one and a long one and an intricate one, also sometimes a painful one.
I think of those rings. If I grabbed the pile and yank and tug and snatch and smash, some would come undone, and others would be destroyed. Careful untangling takes time. It takes intention. It takes seeing beyond the tangled mess and envisioning something beautiful. I would say that it takes love too, love that is big enough to believe that the hard, hard work matters.
"Gently untangled."
I am trying to give the gentleness I offer so easily to others to myself. I hope that for you too. It is not as easy as it sounds, and it is still emphatically worth it. I believe in the beautiful.
Seek the Good and Find It
May 28
We tend to find what we seek.
Last night, having dinner with my family at a restaurant iconic to our community that is closing in a few days, I found what I sought:
A nearby table with the most beautiful family, three generations, warm and wonderful and radiant. The opportunity to bless them. The gorgeous and stunning moment when two of their children came to my table to thank be for the blessing. The audible catch in our waiter's voice after witnessing the whole thing. The replaying of it all in my mind, many times over.
We tend to find what we seek.
I challenge you and challenge myself...
Seek the good and find it and revel in it, and then do the same, again and again and again.
Old Wooden Floors
May 12
Yesterday, I attended the funeral of a dear friend's mother. It took place in a country church with old wooden floors and beautiful history.
As I sat waiting for the service to begin, the family of the woman we grieved walked up the aisle to the front row, passing immediately beside me. In that moment, my mind stilled and my face turned toward the aisle. I was engulfed by the footsteps.
There were many. Slow, quicker, padded with the squish of rubber soles as well as clicking with the light clatter of more formal footwear, young and old, grieving and peaceful, men and women and sons and daughters and grandchildren and one grieving, long-time, beloved spouse.
The floor creed under the footsteps. The Wood spoke as those footsteps proceeded up the aisle. The building seemed to join in the bittersweet goodbye to a woman whose presence on this earth open wider the door to eternity through the testimony of a life well lived, based in a faith that sounded remarkably like footsteps.
I hear them still this morning, those footsteps. They were those of "her people." The footsteps of many. The footsteps that said, with each squish or clatter or squeak of old wood, "I loved you and I will always love you."
TODAY, think of, notice, cherish, acknowledge, show gratitude for the footsteps. They matter. They say that there is purpose. They remind us of impact. They speak of Forward movement, toward a destination. They are not silent. They are not alone. In fact, they make the most exquisite sound.
Weekly Highlight
May 8
The undeniable highlight of my week! Receiving this email below, slightly shortened and edited, from a 12 year-old who saw the Helen Keller news and who's project she wanted to bolster with firsthand testimony from someone, so she had the guts and persistence to find my website, email me, and set up a Zoom that I just completed with her! This is everything! Check the brilliance of these questions as well. I loved her, and I loved how she made me feel, and I hope she loved how I made her feel too. Rockstar!
My name is &&&&&&. I am a middle school student at &&&&&& in Austin, Texas. I am doing a civics project on reducing the amount of time it takes blind people to go grocery shopping. My research shows that grocery shopping as a blind or visually impaired person  can take significantly longer than for a sighted person, and I want to try to help fix that.
I have a couple questions to ask you,
What is it like to shop in a grocery store and how long does it take?
How has winning the Helen Keller achievement award affected you?
What do you hope to see in the future in grocery stores that help visually impaired people and blind people travel through it faster?
How long does it take a blind/visually impaired person to usually start getting used to the environment that they are in, especially in the shopping environment?
Hopeful Anticipation
April 19
I will receive the Helen Keller Achievement Award this week, I have several special moments to anticipate including exciting surprises I'm sure, I have a gorgeous gown and jewelry to wear, I have a killer good speech to deliver, and I have four friends attending the ceremony, along with some special young guests, who will surround me with love and support when all of it feels unmanageable. I am promising myself to be present in Manhattan and on the rest of the trip, and I am promising Tate to actually give him commands rather than assume he can read my mind about where to go (long story from Church this morning, but he has forgiven me and I've hopefully used up my singular brain freeze for the week: stress does crazy things ).
It is good, and it is complex. Never assume you know what someone is experiencing, unless you assume that there are layers and layers (lots of onion imagery seems fitting here!) and beyond that, more layers. I am excited at the same time I am contending with so much internal messiness.
Through it all, I am grateful.
The benediction I used when I was filling in as preacher at my church is what I cling to right now in the public grandeur and in the unlovely moments, loved by a God who is using my story in ways I simply won't understand, which is true for all of us. Nay this be a blessing for you too. "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all matter of things shall be well."
Photos include images from a recent speech in Illinois to 200 new teachers, and interactive presentation with 115 teenagers at a leadership retreat, and a photo shoot an interview with a local TV station that will air a story about the Helen Keller this Tuesday.
Guiding Eyes Writing Contest
April 16
Guess what? I helped design and facilitate and judge a writing contest! Who is surprised?
Folks, this is dear to my heart because it features guide dog handlers writing about their partnership with the most amazing dogs. The writing is outstanding, and the mission to celebrate these teams and all teams, well, it matters!
Please read, share, and enjoy. Go to the original post to comment and like, and comment and like on this shared one too.
I love it when gifts match up with mission, and the world is a little better because of it all. That is what happened here with this inaugural writing contest, and I'm extremely proud.
Guiding Eyes Press Release Below:
Tiny tales of trust, teamwork, and very good dogs.
For our first Miniature Moments writing contest, Guiding Eyes graduates were invited to share true stories from life with their guide dogs in 50 words or less, and the results were funny, moving, surprising, and unforgettable.
These stories offer a rare and wonderful glimpse into the real, everyday experiences of the teams Guiding Eyes is honored to support. After thoughtful review and enthusiastic discussion by members of our Graduate Council, we’re excited to share our 3 winning entries:
Winner: Emma Vrabel
“Running”
Running.
Moving without my body braced for impact.
A return to childhood,
when the world felt
softer, when I only
worried about how fast my legs pumped.
My head tips back.
Birds sing, rustling trees, rushing water accompanying.
All I need is to move, breathe.
She knows the way home.
Winner: Lisa Judelson
“Donuts and Dogs”
“I zipped the donuts into my bag,” said my friend.
“Okay,” I replied. “He would not dare.”
Silence from the back seat.
Upon arrival, open bag and empty box.
With disbelief I sniffed the suspicious snout …Undeniably Munchkins!
No apology offered.
Winner: Calle Walton
Toronto. 9:30pm. Pouring rain. On the ground, hands and knees throbbing, Teal’s leash gone. I tripped. She didn’t notice. Disoriented. Panicking. The thought of losing her is worse than the idea of being lost. “Touch”. She rushed back. Nuzzled me. Both scared, but together. I’d never felt so comforted.
Explore the full collection of this year’s winners and finalists on our blog: https://bit.ly/GuidingEyesMiniatureMoments
Photo description:
1] Emma and female black lab guide dog Holly cross the street together in Manhattan. Emma smiles as she walks with her head up and smiles.
2] Male black lab guide dog Iron sits in a grassy yard surrounded by colorful flowers and poses happily for the camera
3] Calle sits with female black lab guide dog Teal laying across her lap while cuddled up together in a bedroom.
A listening ear or a list of errors?
April 15
Are you a listening ear or a list of errors?
Not a question you've ever been asked before, but as I was using dictate on my phone yesterday, instead of "listening ear," it captured the phrase "list of errors."
You know my brain: it's weird! I spent a good 10 minutes pondering the difference. Nine of those minutes were acknowledgment of how often I am the latter.
In a world when we need more listening ears, how often do we flop in the attempt to be present for others?
Simultaneously, so much of what we do, or at least what I do, is full of errors, provoking errors from others or making me contemplate my errors instead of the things I do right.
None of that is healthy, not for a dwelling place.
Today, when you try to be a listening ear, do it, and when you fail, begin again. Rinse and repeat.
And today, when you are an unfortunate list of errors, acknowledge it, contemplate it, and begin again. Rinse and repeat.
May today be the day when you are what is needed and when you also find what you need.
A Singing Bird
April 11
As I stood outside this morning at 6:25, waiting for a ride to an out of state speaking event, I listened to a bird who was clearly singing to me.
Three measured rhythmic chirps, then pause. Three identical measured rhythmic chirps, then another pause.
Again.
Again.
Then, without a parent reason, four rhythmic measured chirps.
Back to three.
Four again.
And again.
As the minutes passed, I counted, and I sought a pattern, and I found none, and I kept listening.
In doing so ,I was present when otherwise I might have drifted into my own headspace which is not always a healthy place for me to be .
still, no matter how hard I tried to find it, there was no pattern.
I like patterns.
The bird saying, sometimes one way, sometimes another, still singing, still singing to me, gently persistent.
There was no pattern. ……… Sometimes that perhaps IS the pattern.
Unpredictable, without traceable logic, not neatly classifiable, untamed, messy, ……… like life ……… still, just precisely right. 
A Single Goose
March 3, 2026
This early morning, I am here to announce that a single goose, talking animatedly to herself, just landed in a pond in Indiana with an inglorious splash.
Why does this matter?
I am left wondering...
What was she saying to herself?
Why was she alone?
How did she pick this pond behind my house?
What made her fly so early in the morning?
What is she doing now?
Who is missing her?
What will her day hold?
Who knows where she is?
Why was I chosen as her only companion as she splashed down?
There is a symbolic meaning behind possible answers. There is depth and reflection and contemplation and awe. There is also simple appreciation that, before an incredibly busy day where my speaking abilities will be called upon multiple times in a cluttered environment where I haven't spoken before, this goose and I shared a moment.
If a lone goose lands in a pond without fanfare, does it matter? Yes. It does. I noticed, and I carry thoughts of this simple communion with nature into a day that is changed because of it.
The Snow
February 26, 2026
The other morning, before the world was fully awake, Tate and I walked while it was lightly snowing.
And on that walk?...
The snow softened my footsteps.
The snow muffled the plodding gait of my dog.
The snow tapped lightly upon itself as it landed on the Earth.
The snow caressed my cheeks and eyebrows and shoulders.
The snow made the hard sidewalk softer.
The snow blocked out all sound that had no part in peace.
The snow magnified the jingle of the dogs tags and the breath filling and departing from my lungs.
The snow blurred the edged of everything that was too much.
The snow sharpened the edges of everything that mattered.
The snow embraced me, as if nothing else could touch be except if the snow gave permission.
Today, whether it is snowy or sunny, warm or wicked, brisk or brutal, windy or wispy, hard or happy, easy or enormous, lonely or loving, damp or desert-like...
Be snow for someone who needs snow.
Advocacy.
February 23, 2026
Advocacy. What does that mean and what does that look like?
You will recall my post last week about the unsettling confrontation with a growling and barking dog in a local store where Tate and I were shopping. You will also recall that part of my unease about the situation was that the owner did nothing to correct her aggressive dog nor apologize to us about the incident.
For days following that encounter, I was bothered. Part was what I wrote above, but part was my own response when it was happening and afterward, which was minimal, which was passive, which was a direct echo of past traumas that taught me a pattern I recognized in myself with disappointment when this situation was unfolding.
Advocacy. What does that mean and what does that look like?
Here is what it looked like this time. I called the store three days after the incident. I talked to a manager. She was appalled. She took notes. She asked questions. She listened. She affirmed. She apologized. She promised an investigation. And this past weekend, she delivered by calling me back with her report.
The store, which you will notice I have intentionally not named, has an open dog policy like several other stores do. However, as I emphasized to her, stores never ever have to tolerate bad behavior by a customer or their dog. Even a true service dog like Tate is not allowed to behave poorly in a menacing or destructive way.
The manager had latched onto this point. This provoked her to talk to upper management who confirmed what I said about the ability of a store to ask a customer to remove their dog. The manager had an all staff meeting, and immediately, the workers who had been present when my incident unfolded knew exactly what she was talking about and verified every detail I gave. The manager was frustrated with them for not acting then (she had stronger words than FRUSTRATED!), and she promised me that this will never happen again. She empowered her employees to intervene in such situations or to ask a supervisor to intervene. She said unequivocally that such unwelcoming, aggressive, and dangerous behavior has no place in her store and will never ever be tolerated again, because tolerance is endorsement, and that is not OK.
Advocacy. What does that mean and what does that look like?
In this case, it was listening to the lingering voice of discontent in my heart. It was knowing that the story wasn't over until I decided it was over. It was making a call, telling the truth, trusting a good leader to lead well, appreciating her follow up, and knowing that I made a difference. It was not on-the-spot bravery: it was the clarity to know that change can happen even later, which is also bravery.
I am at peace. I will return to this store soon and ask if this manager is present. She wants to meet me. I want to meet her. We will shake hands. Goodness prevailed. That is advocacy.
February 17, 2026
Tate and I had a surprise at a store today: a small dog that barked and growled ferociously at Tate. It was riding in the cart with its owner pushing from behind. Not sure if it was a poorly behaved service dog or a fake service dog, but the owner's lack of response to the situation, including no apology to us or correction to the dog, even when it continued as we were walking away, was of equal distress to me as was the aggressive behavior of the dog.
I've been out of sorts since that encounter, simultaneously grateful to have had these awful interactions be few and far between as well as aware that such encounters, if they escalate, can cause damage to a team. Not sure what else to say except it was scare and we're okay and it is lingering in my mind.
Today, I remember.
January 28, 2026
Forty years ago today, I sat speechless near one of the best teachers I ever had. She was crying. No, she was weeping. The Challenger had exploded, the space shuttle containing Christa McAuliffe, the teacher whose presence on that expedition was a game changer for Education.
My biology teacher had been a candidate to take that exact seat on the Challenger. When it exploded, the pain ripped through her big, beautiful heart. I can hear her agonizing sobs those 40 years later.
I learned much that day. Biggest was that the things that feed our souls, they do not get placed on a shelf or hung in a closet when we do the work we do. Compartmentalization is only partially possible in the human spirit which is a flowing, glowing, growing array of what we do and what we think and what we feel. That's called authenticity, and my teacher, she had that in abundance and showed that to us that tearful Tuesday.
And that is as it should be, allowing who we are to penetrate and illuminate what we do, day by day. Authenticity. I was the educator I became because of ALL the things: Gymnastics, reading, anorexia, faith, progressive blindness, shyness, imagination, brokenness, divorced parents, doll houses, writing, social awkwardness, public speaking, church, perfectionism, pain, friends, piano, shame, cheerleading, loneliness, being tall, and so much more. Those things are part of me, just as my teacher's love for the space program and deep, wrenching despair that day in 1986 were and are part of her.
Forty years, and I can paint that day with precise realism right now. Some days are like that: they change you. The Challenger changed me. My teacher changed me. I changed my students over the decades, mostly when I didn't even know it, and again, that is how it should be.
We keep going, and we keep reaching for the stars, and we keep failing, and we keep believing so much that we reach again. I learned that in 1986 too.
TODAY, I remember.
National Random Acts of Kindness Day
February 17, 2026
National Random Acts of Kindness Day
How about it?
Today,
Do the thing for the person who doesn't expect it,
The one who is always the giver,
The one quietly hurting,
The one who has come to dwell in that valley called
Hopelessness.
For the simple reason of being kind,
Without attribution,
Because you can,
And because serving other is being the hands and feet of God
And the essence of love.
snowy picture of a path and morning sunrise
Flourishing with a Guide Dog
Guiding Eyes for the Blind Newsletter Contribution
November 22, 2025
My three-decade career as a public high school English teacher brought me into many positions of influence, especially when I started working with guide dogs. I could move safely through the halls of my school, take students on field trips, enter conference rooms for important meetings, travel for professional development, and ultimately stand tall and proud as the 2015 Indiana Teacher of the Year and finalist for National Teacher of the Year. Simultaneously, my love for motivational speaking, mentoring, and writing flourished with a guide dog by my side. With every speech I gave, every mentoring session I led, and every story I wrote, I could embrace the same professionalism as my sighted peers because my dog evened the playing field, giving me the space to pour into my work without needing to focus on all of the things made harder because of my blindness.
What was never my primary thought was how my life choices were influencing the public's overall regard for disability, but that was happening anyway. Being named the winner of the 2026 Helen Keller Achievement Award is a startling and humbling realization of how our stories are being written by the choices we make, at the same time that those around us are noticing those choices. I'm still making sense of this because I haven't always succeeded or done the noble thing. I have, however, kept taking that next step, always driven by purpose and a passion to serve others, and for the last 30 years, side-by-side with a dog who guides and loves me, on both the mountain tops and in the valleys. Would I have found those mountain tops if I didn't have a guide dog? I'm doubtful, and I can't honestly picture that anyway. My story will include a harness handle gripped in my left hand for as long as it is possible, which means to me that anything is possible.
I Will Meet You There
November, 2025
This tree in front of my house speaks to my heart.
It does not ask to turn brilliant red in the fall. It would have been happy enough to remain green, yet when crimson leaves like jewels take over, a story is written, one where good things come from changing seasons. Better than "good things," actually, stunning and amazing and God-gifted things.
Some parts of my world are feeling a little like this lately. I can't make sense of it fully. So, instead of trying to analyze it all, this moment, I am simply choosing to stand in wonderment.
Might I challenge you this evening? When beautiful things like this are yours, will you stand in awe with me rather than chasing the why? Just be present. Just be in amazement. Just be grateful.
I will meet you there, in this season or even just in this single moment of wonderment, by a tree like this one.
