Appreciation

I woke the other day to a beautiful heavy snow. It happened to be on a Saturday, so my morning was a bit more relaxed. The picture from the sunroom window, here at the Iris Respite House & Healing Gardens, was breathtaking. I stood there, looking out the window, mesmerized by the beauty. I felt gratitude and appreciation for what nature was providing. Quickly, the feeling left me as I moved my focus back to the long task list that I put together for the weekend of hopeful accomplishments. I expressed (out loud, I might add), “Why does my day have to be so full of ‘to-dos’?” The tasks on my list were important and needed to be done, but how can I slow down this weekend and appreciate something as soothing as this snowy morning? I wanted to just continue to stare, but thought, how unproductive.

Appreciation is the focus for the month of March. When stress and to-dos happen, self-sabotaging tendencies appear. While nature is one constant in our lives, it can help with appreciation and all the little things in life, but the busy-ness of the day seems to always get in the way. How can we appreciate the surprise of what is below an overturned rock, the transformation of a deciduous tree in the autumn season, the continuous flow of water from a rain storm, or the plant showing its beauty after a long cold winter season?

In this scenario, the moment of surprise was the snow. I know that nature’s rhythm is a reminder of resilience and renewal. We share and shout this message from Hope Grows quite often…blah, blah, blah! But how, even in the midst of stress and many to-do’s can these small moments of wonder anchor you in appreciation?

While the morning went on and I kept busy with the to-do’s, I noticed the snow turned to rain. I found myself drawn to the process of this particular element of nature, in the moment, as it switched from snow to rain. Something happened that I haven’t felt in a while. I was inspired, almost awe-struck at the grounding this change in weather created. I took a moment and just watched, even opened the door to breathe in the scent it was bringing. I watched it move across the window. Even in those few seconds of noticing, I felt a small act of appreciation amidst the busyness of my morning.

As the day continued to unfold, the weather changed several times from rain to snow, back to rain, and then snow again. In fact, the entire weekend’s weather did this; it kept flip-flopping, as if it switched to the rhythm of my endless list. I found myself noticing small acts of appreciation throughout the weekend, gently shifting my awareness from the busy weekend to what was happening outside my window and then back again. I was super excited at the end of the weekend, as it had been one of the most productive weekends in task completion that I have had in a long time. Was it the small acts of appreciation of nature I kept engaging with or was it just pure coincidence? I don’t know, but what I do know is the way I chose to engage perhaps made the difference. Consider trying the following:

  • I Paused – for just a few seconds, I took a break from the rush of my to-do’s. It wasn’t a long break; it was just enough to acknowledge the moment.
  • I Observed – I tuned into my surroundings. I noticed what was happening in the here and now of nature, in my environment, and even within myself. I took mind of the way the snow looked, how the rain sounded, the scent from the door, and in the filling of my lungs with the air.
  • I Acknowledged – Internally, I took notice. I even made comments out loud. “Look how large those snowflakes are!” “Oh wow, it now turned to rain.” “The scent of the air outside is intriguing.” “It’s snowing again, this is beautiful.” I expressed gratitude for the beauty before returning to my tasks.
  • I Felt – I allowed myself to experience a sense of gratitude, wonder, and connection, even if it was for a brief moment. It seemed to reinforce the habit of appreciation as I kept looking out the window between tasks.
  • I Returned – I went back to my tasks, but continued to carry out the moment of noticing and appreciating. I kept setting an intention to notice one more “smaller” thing out the window as the day went on. I was excited to wake the next day of the weekend and continue with my tasks; I found I didn’t dread the remaining to-do’s and ended up feeling so accomplished.

As the weekend came to a close, I realized that appreciation doesn’t need to be grand. It can be woven into the smallest of moments. I think the process became more intuitive as I kept noticing what was happening to me and outside. Despite the many tasks on my list, I felt rested, relaxed and restored, and accomplished.

With a mission to inspire hope through nature while empowering family caregivers to seek wellness of mind, body, and spirit, we focus on resting, relaxing and restoring as a way to appreciate life. This acknowledges both the challenges caregivers face and the power of nature in fostering well-being. Rest, relaxation, and restoration are not just luxuries but essential parts of sustaining appreciation and resilience.

By taking mindful moments, such as the above, becomes a way to embrace and encourage one to “take a break.” This process instills appreciation. At Hope Grows, we incorporate and encourage others by gratitude practice, mindful techniques, use of healing gardens, the language of flowers, bird watching, connecting to nature, aromatherapy, and labyrinths…to name a few. This beautiful holistic approach weaves together mindfulness, nature, and sensory experiences. Each of these practices offers a unique way to slow down and connect—whether through the symbolism of a labyrinth, the stillness of bird watching, or the grounding presence of a healing garden.

The next time your list has many to-do’s on it, try to appreciate the beauty outside the window in small moments of time throughout your day. You just might feel rested, relaxed, and restored in your busy-ness and have a new found sense of appreciation.

In appreciation of all of you!

Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Founder & Clinical Director

Breathe

The month of February seems to lend itself to moments of deep breathing. Research shows that mindful deep breathing practices elicit balance and transform stress into peace. James Nestor, the author of “Breath” writes about the new science around the lost art of breathing. I truly find the book fascinating and worthy of the reading time. His research shows that no matter what we eat, what our body size, the exercise we accomplish, and/or our age, none of it matters if we do not breathe properly.

Inhaling and exhaling of breath is something we do instinctually about 25,000 times a day. James goes on to say in his book that humans have lost the ability to breathe correctly, partly due to the bone structure of our skull being smaller in size than our historic ancestors. In the book, I found the studies of implementing different methods of breathing intriguing, especially the studies with athletes.

The athlete studies resulted in better stamina and exertion during high performance sports when proper breathing techniques were applied. I bought a second copy of James Nestor’s book for my oldest grandson, an exceptional athlete, so that he can learn how to apply breathing techniques. He took it to heart, learned and applied it. I can always tell when he applies the breathing techniques, evidenced by his athletic performance and the color of the redness of his face.  

On another note of moments of needing deep breaths, I ended the month of January celebrating and honoring the life of two people. One at the age of 80 and the other at the age of 38. Both shocking nonetheless, both deaths took my breath away. As a licensed counselor and certified thanatologist specializing in grief and loss, I know that when the initial news of a loss is heard, one of our first responses is to try and make sense of the death, evidenced by the question, “how did the person die?” We then begin to reflect on the person’s life and what the person meant to us. In most cases, we attend a service where friends and family gather to provide a community of support and an exchange of sharing and love. With these two recent deaths, shock and confusion were the common reaction due to the nature of the death: one being from a fall and the other from suicide, respectively. Deep breaths were definitely needed as we honored and memorialized them both.

In moments of stress, we either hold our breath or shallow breathe. The transition of breathing properly resumes eventually with a big deep breath inhaled. I relate this transition of breath with winter stillness; it is in that transition of breath that we can find calm and peace, even when we’re yearning for something else.

This transition reminds me of a word I recently learned, Gluggavedur! It is an Icelandic word meaning “window-weather,” which refers to the sort of weather best observed from your window. If we think about watching a storm from the warmth and safety of inside our home, we transition from the severity of the storm to the calm feeling of being protected from it.

As grief hits us unexpectedly, like the unwanted groundhog in the garden, we can apply the practice of window-weather. This mindful way of thinking about grief as an unwanted storm puts a safe distance from it. From this safe distance, the emotion is viewed more objectively, creating a calmer and clearer mind. This helps us to observe the pain and sadness as it rises and falls, feeling protected at the same time.

So, the next time the high stakes of emotions surface, remember the phrase Gluggavedur and, since the groundhog saw its shadow and predicts six more weeks of winter, think about transitioning to “window-weather” to help with the Ying and Yang of the weather and the onset of cabin fever.

And finally, think about the relatable practice of essential oils and symbolism of flowers. Roman Chamomile, the essential oil pick, is known for its calming and soothing properties, making it an excellent companion for February’s focus. It lends itself to an invitation for “window-weather” as it invites moments for pausing, breathing, and embracing stillness. The flower pick, Boston Fern, is a lush, vibrant plant that symbolizes purity, renewal, and vitality. Even in the stillness of emotion, grief, or winter, the act of taking moments to breathe lies in its role as both a natural air purifier and a symbol of life. 

Until the winds blow in March, Happy Window-Weather!

Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Founder & Clinical Director

Tenacity

January’s focus is about tenacity, with Clematis as our flower pick and Laurel Leaf as the essential oil. Tenacity, by definition, is persistence, with some synonyms including courage, mettle, resolution, and spirit. I believe that spirit and tenacity largely overlap, with spirit suggesting a quality of temperament enabling one to hold one’s own or keep up morale when opposition is threatened.

Wow, that is a mouthful! But it brings me to a time shortly after the death of my dad. I found myself in therapy for the heaviness of grief and, in sharing my narrative and struggles, the therapist asked if I had always been this tenacious. I had to laugh as I pondered the question. I never considered myself to be stubborn, as one of the synonyms suggests. I may be adamant at times, a true natural inheritance of DNA, and definitely strong willed, but never stubborn.

I’m comfortable sharing as I believe to fit the description of a determined spirit that does not give up easily. This has served me well in my life; even as a child, it brought me closely connected to nature and most comfortable in the forest. As John Muir put it best, “Into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” In the woods or forest, I am at peace, a soulful energy comes alive and, as some have described me, a force with which to be reckoned.

Enough about my connections to self and nature – let’s consider how YOU can connect to help with your tenacious spiritual side. One way would be to consider our essential oil pick for the month, Laurel Leaf. Its healing properties are antibacterial and antiviral, and its top uses are for viruses, cold and flu, congestion, cough, and pneumonia. If used for emotional balance, it can help one go from self-sabotage to a victorious feeling. A great spiritual energy as well, it connects us to our soul and has long been associated with purging and clearing. Is not winter a time for being inside? Not just inside our brick-and-mortar protection from the cold and wind, but to go inward to the depths of our soul and ponder over what to purge, clean out or clear, and make room?

Another way to bring more tenacity into your life is the Clematis plant. It symbolizes tenacity and adaptability, rooted in its growth patterns and characteristics. This vine-like plant is known for its ability to climb and thrive in diverse conditions, reaching for light and support with determination. Its delicate-looking flowers contradict the strength and persistence required to flourish in often challenging environments. By incorporating its imagery into your life, you might be inspired to persist through difficulties with elegance. Its essence is a reminder that tenacity often lies in the quiet, consistent pursuit of growth and light.

Regardless of how you decide to bring more tenacity into your month, consider the following.

  • Embrace the stillness that winter’s quiet offers and let it mirror the inner quiet needed for spiritual growth.
  • Learn from nature’s resilience and the lesson of endurance and renewal from the evergreens, snowdrops, and the cycle of dormancy.
  • Open to the stark beauty of winter. It creates a spiritual awareness of the sacredness of the frost patterns and the interplay of light and shadow.
  • Look inward and discover our own light during the long nights. We are called to reflect as it aligns us with self-awareness, inner strength and the divine spark within ourselves.

Spending time in winter landscapes brings us fully into the present moment. There is a mindful moment of breathing in the cold crisp air, walking in the snow, or even laying down and making a snow angel. No worries though, if you cannot go outside. Open your window and let some cold air come in, and then watch the birds, the flurry of the snow, or notice how the snow sits on the branch. The benefit is the same.

So, if you can, put on a coat/gloves/hat/boots and engage with nature! We not only will cultivate tenacity, but also nourish our souls. It is in this interplay between the external and the internal, the physical and the spiritual, that we discover the profound connections that ground us and uplift us through every season of life.

Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Founder & Clinical Director

Flourish: Our Theme for 2025

Happy New Year! Hope Grows spent some time over the holiday season recharging and enjoying time with family. “Taking a Break” has been something that Hope Grows has incorporated into their work model since the founding. Practicing what we teach not only has helped us to continue to deliver our Model of Care at the top of our game, it helps us help caregivers flourish.

During this break, not only was connecting with family important, but connecting with nature was, too. As this time of the year marks the beginning of the changing season, I prefer to embrace it with excitement, not dread. Yes, winter is, for some, a time of trepidation. The freezing temps, snow and ice, and the darkness lend itself for an emotional storm. However, if we think about the positive of what winter can bring, our souls can flourish. John Muir so brilliantly put it, “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings.” Well, I wasn’t expecting anyone to climb a mountain over the break (I sure didn’t), but his message continues to say that if you get good tidings from the mountains, “nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.” Then, “The winds will blow their freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.”

Perhaps if we look at winter as an increase in energy, we can begin to flourish. I believe that his message is about taking time, especially during the depths of winter, to allow the tenacity of nature and perhaps, winter, to help us flourish. To flourish is a beautiful and profoundly tenacious concept for reflection. To flourish in the darkness of winter, whether it’s the literal season or a symbolic period of challenge, requires resilience, adaptability, and inner strength. Embracing the cold, with a bit of steadfastness, can remind us that even in the most barren times, growth is possible, and life continues to find its way.

As the seasons of the year cycle through this year, consider the thought that flourishing can become a testament to our capacity for renewal and transformation. The goal is to not just find beauty and purpose in the coldest moments, but throughout the year as well.

To flourish spiritually means nurturing the seeds of hope, love, and faith within, even in times of stillness or challenge. It encourages us to trust the process, to be present with what is, and to cultivate gratitude for the subtle growth that often goes unseen. Reflect and consider how you would like to embody this flourishing spirit as you journey through winter and each new season in 2025.

Happiest in Nature!

Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Founder & Clinical Director

Gifts of the Winter Solstice

I am out of the gardens for the season. The plants are all tucked in for the winter, the horticultural off-season is here, and I am ready to start my “wintering.” What better way to begin than by celebrating the solstice. This Saturday, December 21, at 4:20am, the earth will come about once again and the light will start reclaiming its power. For those of us in the northern hemisphere who have been plunged into darkness, it’s a time to rejoice, celebrate the return of the sun and, ultimately, the victory of life over death.

From ages past right up until today, people all over the earth have indulged in a myriad of ways to welcome the returning light, including burning Yule logs to celebrate the 12-day Yuletide Festival, staying up all night at the ancient Persian festival of Yalda in Iran, feasting at the Dongzhi Festival in China, stringing lanterns at the Winter Solstice Lantern Festival in Vancouver, and welcoming the sun back to its summer path at the Hopi Indian Soyal Solstice Ceremony. In fact, many of the pagan solstice celebration traditions of yore, like decorating with the symbolic holly, ivy, mistletoe, and evergreen boughs, have found their way into our modern-day Christmas celebrations.

So, as we prepare to herald the sun’s rebirth, what are the gifts this winter solstice might allow us? Solitude, for one. Take it from me, time alone is hard to come by once the growing season starts. Take advantage of the silence and quietude outside. Rest, relax, and recharge a little. The land does not require your labor right now, so follow suit. Patience, I would say, is another. Mother Nature is NOT big on instant gratification. Being that the seasons are governed by the gravitational pull between the earth and sun – which is completely out of our hands – we are forced to sit out trying to control the elements and wait for spring to arrive in its own due time. Trust me, if there was any way to get less winter, my Southern mother would’ve figured it out long ago.

Mother Nature is, however, big on transformation, which, I contend, is one of the more profound gifts of the dark. What better time than now to go within? Yes, darkness can provoke fear, anxiety, sadness, the usual suspects. But, it’s also in the gentle dark that the sparks of new beginnings ignite. Even in the barren winter, the garden is still at work. After a long winter’s nap, our perennials often return bigger and stronger than they were the previous year.

Some keys to transformation, in fact, are found only in the dark. It’s here we learn to trust. And trust, especially in something bigger than ourselves, can be wholly transformative. Hope, especially the kind found in moments of darkness, also falls into that category. Think on this: the earth’s landscape goes through such dramatic transformations every year, and yet the light we depend completely upon to sustain life is celestially programmed to return, every year, no matter how long the night (and the arctic circle endures a whopping 24 hours of darkness!).

This winter, let the natural rhythms of the earth give you strength. Sometimes, that’s as easy as taking a walk outside, resting and retreating a little more, or looking up on a clear night and enjoying the winter constellations, like Orion and Taurus. Surrender to the season’s dark hours, but know the light gains a little more ground each day and stay anchored in that. As we collectively experience the rebirth of the sun, allow yourself to enjoy at least some of the blessings of the solstice and who knows, you may just find some freedom in the dark.

Written by Jessica Giannotta
Hope Grows Horticulturist

Closing Current Doors to Open New Ones

If you follow my blog posts and the story of Hope Grows, you may remember the spiritual and divine part of the beginning of the mission. I was always a person that when a door closed in front of me, (not literally, but figuratively), I would stand behind what occurred and wonder what I did wrong, what could I have done differently, or what do I need to improve in myself to have made the opportunity work. Basically, I was hard on myself.

As the story goes: after my dad’s death, he appeared in a dream to me, and upon wakening, the first thing I said was, “Hope Grows.” I then would talk to his spirit and ask for guidance in making sense of his visit. Soon after, the idea of supporting family caregivers and grief and loss was born, and I began building the mission/vision of Hope Grows. During that time, the one thing I changed about myself was not deliberating over a “door being closed.” When an opportunity became unsuccessful, I asked, “Dad, show me the open window.” Sure enough, something would present itself without much effort behind it.

Closing current doors to open new doors (or, in my case, new windows), speaks to the often-challenging decisions we make when we choose to leave behind familiar situations, routines, or relationships to allow room for new possibilities. It’s a process that involves understanding what no longer serves you, or what may be holding you back, to make space for what could propel you forward.

As we wind down the year of 2024 and consider any New Year’s resolutions, lets talk a bit more about wrapping up the year with the message of letting go; it can be both daunting and deeply freeing. Charging forth into the new year with a fresh perspective requires a bit of intention.

An end-of-year reflection can help us release missed opportunities and unmet expectations. This is essential in freeing us from holding on to something that isn’t working. In looking back at my visitation (dream) from my dad, the spiritual awakening that had occurred brought courage to let go of what wasn’t working. In this case, the pain of losing him, the loss of identity I was feeling, and the need to create something bigger than myself; this had many highs and lows. No doubt, my experience was divine, as there is more to the story, but I found the strength to let go of my attachment to how things “should” have been and I reclaimed an energy and a focus, built from the love for my dad, his love for nature, and my mother’s love for plants and flowers.

I’m not sure that I was acknowledging any missed opportunities or unmet expectations in my life, other than a need to heal from my loss, to move away from how I was viewing me, and just begin to engage in life differently. Retreating to nature to find that peace was what I did and believe me when I say, I met a lot of resistance and faced a lonely path at first. For starters, my family and spouse were not on board at first and, in hindsight, I believe they were acting on their own emotions of fear of losing a mom and wife to something they didn’t understand. I was the matriarch, always making sure their needs were met, and I suppose there was a twinge of egocentricity from them from my new found directive in life.

The more “doors that seemed to be closing” on starting a nonprofit, and designing and implementing the existing healing gardens on the property, the more I felt power, determination, and a reclaiming of vigor and motivation. I trusted in myself more than I ever had in my life, which bolstered my ambition. The motivation was stemmed from envisioning the new path and what I had hope to achieve. To this day, I am still hoping the big vision of this unfolds, with many more Iris Respite Houses & Healing Gardens throughout the country, and achieve the nation-wide support this mission deserves.

As the new year carries a sense of promise for a new door opening, remember that we are all continually evolving. I continue to embrace the concept of when the “door” closes, I ask Dad for the “open window.” So, I invite you to let go of what isn’t serving you and look for the possibilities of who you can become in this life of yours. Embrace the renewal, or the opening of a new door as a gift.

One last thought with nature as a focus: if you need a bit of help, think about the Siberian Fir and the Blue Spruce. They carry wonderful symbolic messages of closing one chapter and opening another. These trees grow in rugged environments, enduring harsh conditions and changes, yet they remain resilient, tall, and majestic. Here are a few ways these trees can inspire the journey of closing a current door and opening a new one:

  • Strength & Resilience – like the trees, you also have the strength to endure changes and face uncertainty.
  • Rootedness – these trees are deeply rooted and you, too, can be deeply rooted in a new possibility. Focusing on your values and skills that ground you, even as the winds shift when facing changes.
  • Evergreen Nature – the fir and spruce are evergreens, symbolizing renewal and the ability to stay vibrant through all seasons. Draw inspiration from this in knowing that letting go is not an end but an evolution of your journey.
  • Adaptability & Growth – as mentioned, both trees thrive in challenging climates, demonstrating the beauty of adapting. It is imperative to trust in your ability to adapt and find beauty in the growth.

Above all, don’t forget that using imagery in this way can help you find the potential possibilities in the transition of closing the door and opening a new one.

Letting go our attachment to how things “should” have been can feel a bit like defeat, but trust me when I say it is a powerful way to reclaim energy and focus.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! See you in 2025!

Lisa Story, MSCP, LPC, CT
Founder & Clinical Director