Your weekly poem: ON CHILDREN & PARENTING

Your weekly poem: ON CHILDREN & PARENTING

🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away… 

ON CHILDREN & PARENTING

🌻 Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable. 🌻

— Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931), from The Prophet

🪴 Last Sunday was Mother’s day. In my household, it tends to be a day like any other, which I don’t mind. In fact, the two people who wished me Happy Mother’s Day “proactively” were my friends Andy, Maryam, & my mum’s dentist, who had kindly offered to do a check-up on his day off after her operation…

🪴 As I was reflecting on parenthood, I found myself drawn back to Gibran’s words—a wise reminder of what it means to be entrusted with a life.

I love being a mum to my wonderful 16-year-old. It’s the most important and precious role I’ll ever get to play, and I’m immensely grateful for it—all the more so because I’m well aware that there are countless people who would love to be a parent but can’t. I was almost one of them… until I wasn’t.

🪴 Reflecting on what it means to be a parent also reminded me of all the important parental figures I had growing up. People I knew I could rely on, and who were always there for me, especially when my parents couldn’t. Sometimes without a family of their own, they became my parent and I their child all the same—not by blood, but by extension, by choice, through love. These wonderful souls also deserve to be celebrated!

🪴 I also believe in celebrating our children—every day! For the person they are the moment they’re born. For the person they become as they grow, learn, and explore. For every step they take, every fall they make, and as they stand up again.

I celebrate my daughter for the fresh perspective she brings—those youth-tainted glasses she wears that remind me of a time that was and of all that can be. The joy and pain of every first. The discovery of life’s promises. The carving of her own path into the world.

It’s an enormous privilege to witness a child’s journey—whether they are our own or not.

🎉 Today, I celebrate you and all your loved ones! 🎉 

🦋 Happy parent day ! Happy children day ! Happy Friday everyone! 🦋

With love,

Dina 🫶🏽

Image: My husband and I in Hawaii, 2012, renewing our vows a year and a half after our daughter was born.

Resources:

  • In celebratuion of YOU and all your loved ones, this week’s song is CELEBRATION by Kool & The Gang

Your weekly poem: WHY I WAKE EARLY

Your weekly poem: WHY I WAKE EARLY

🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away… 

WHY I WAKE EARLY

🌻 Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who make the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and crotchety–

best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light–
good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness. 🌻

— Mary Oliver
(published in “Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver”)

🪴 I haven’t posted a poem for a few weeks now. Life has been life, I guess, with its usual ebbs and flows. As I finally sat down to share with you a poem, I picked Mary Oliver’s book and it opened on page 171, revealing WHY I WAKE EARLY.

🪴 I think any analysis of Oliver’s words would defeat the whole purpose of this simple but powerful poem. It’s not just an ode to the sun, but an ode to our planet and the beauty that surrounds us. And it’s meant to be experienced rather than analysed.

🎂 I find it interesting that this is the poem that revealed itself to me today (Friday 08 May), the same day we celebrate Sir David Attenborough’s 100th birthday: someone who has dedicated his life to sharing the wonders of our beautiful planet with millions of viewers in a most iconic way. 

📌 So, instead of a question, I invite you to wake up early tomorrow and experience the wonder that is “morning” through all your senses.

🎂 Happy 100th Birthday Sir David Attenborough 🎂

🦋 Happy Friday everyone! 🦋

🌹 And Happy Mother’s day (on Sunday)! 🌹

With love,

Dina 🫶🏽

Resources:

  • This week’s song is What A Wonderful World, cover by Sir David Attenborough—an ode to our planet

Your weekly poem: ALONE—or no man’s an island?

Your weekly poem: ALONE—or no man’s an island?

🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away… 

On this blessed Good Friday, Maya Angelou’s poem ALONE came to mind.

ALONE

🌻 Alone
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don’t believe I’m wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can’t use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They’ve got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I’ll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.🌻

—Maya Angelou

 

Creative, resourceful, and whole

🪴 There’s a persistent belief in coaching—not sure where it originated—that clients are creative, resourceful, and whole.

I always struggled with that mantra, but it took me some time to figure out why.

It sounds amazing, and it’s one of those mantras we sure as heck want to be true. But the question is, is it?

Creativity and resourcefulness sit on a continuum—some have it more than others. But I do believe that we all carry a seed of both. How that seed develops, and how it shows up in action, will greatly vary…

Wholeness, on the other hand, is rooted in this modern-day thinking that we can be anything we want to be, and do anything we want to do, all on our own, if we only put our mind to it. Bollocks. No man is an island. And no talents are infinite.

Relational coaching practices try to tone this idea down by acknowledging the importance of the coach-client relationship, and the coach’s use-of-self as an instrument of change. And yet, we still hold on to the idea of “wholeness” as an individual trait, rather than a communal one.

Why are we so afraid to admit that each one of us has limits?
That no one can be everything to everyone.
That my talents have limits.
My creativity has limits.
My resourcefulness has limits.
My knowledge has limits.
My resilience has limits.

And once we accept that—that we, human beings, have limits—we start to understand that we can only become WHOLE with one another.

“No human being is ‘whole’ in and of itself”

🪴 And I’m not the first one to propose such a sacrilegious hypothesis. I attended a brilliant webinar on existential analysis by Kate Hammer earlier this year, in which she shared the following quote by existential clinical psychologist, psychotherapist, and close collaborator of Viktor Frankl—Alfried Längle, who said:

“According to existential analysis no human being is ‘whole’ in and of itself, even if healthy and with all drives satisfied. A human being as a person needs to transcend themselves and to turn to others (people, projects, tasks) in order to achieve existential fulfilment.”

Imagine my relief when I realised I wasn’t alone in my thinking. Which in itself proves Angelou’s point:

We need one another. We complement one another. We build on one another. We nurture one another. We protect one another. Fill in the blanks…

“Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.”

🪴 In today’s world, with the fires blazing across my beloved Middle East, Maya’s words pierce through the silence:

“Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.”

Man is no island. Mankind is a highly sophisticated root system—similar to the mycorrhizal network—a Wood Wide Web—or in our case, a Soul Wide Web: connected, woven like a tapestry. Because when it tears somewhere, everyone hurts…

📌 Your turn… 

  • What do you know to be your limits?
  • Who completes you? Go and be with them!
  • What completes you? Go and do it!

🦋 A blessed Good Friday everyone! 🦋

With love,

Dina 🫶🏽

 

PS : all em dashes are my own ;).

Resources:

  • This week’s song is The Power of Love, cover by Josh Krajcik

Your weekly poem: THE SOUND OF SILENCE

Your weekly poem: THE SOUND OF SILENCE

🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away… 

THE SOUND OF SILENCE
—by Paul Simon (1964)

🌻 For copyright reasons, I’ve woven in only a few excerpts below.
For the full lyrics, check Paul Simon’s website 🌻

🪴 “Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again”

I have a lot of things I’d love to write about—but—somehow everything pales in the face of that crazy world we seem to live in right now. I feel I have nothing to say that hasn’t already been said—on this platform, or others—and yet…

🪴 “When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light, that split the night
and touched the sound of silence”

Just like Simon’s neon light—sudden, violent, intrusive—here we are, witnessing the disruption of norms we once thought solid in the so-called “western” world. The irony… the hypocrisy…

I agonise at my own inability to bring about any meaningful change in a world led by leaders who have decided they are above all checks and balances—just because…

A world where leaders behave like kindergarteners—squabbling over “toys” while the “playground” burns…

So, while I’m not sure I have anything new to say… silence seems just as deafening—and damning.

🪴“Fool, said I, you do not know,
silence, like a cancer, grows”

I offer you these lyrics today as a reflection on what it means to be Human;
on what it means to live in a world where rule of law means little;
where international law is treated like toilet paper;
where respect for human life, human dignity, and morality are slogans to be branded only on those we deem worthy.

🪴 “And the people bowed and prayed
to the neon god they’d made”

Already in the 60s, Simon was warning us about living in a world that abandons genuine human connection and morality for the glare of superficiality, technology, and consumerism—the neon gods of the time… Lord only knows how many more neon gods we’ve made and worshipped since then…

🪴 “And in the naked light I saw, ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening”

We live in a cacophonous world.
So much noise, but no music.
So much talk, but no meaning.

A world that makes compasses turn round and round in frenzy for they can no longer find true North;
… forever lost in a world that holds no profound truths—for every man his own;
… blind to the everyday struggles of the ordinary man;
… blind to the brotherhood of man.

🪴 “And the sign flashed its warning (…)
the words of the prophets are written (…)
and whispered in the sounds of silence”

The world is ablaze, and we’re watching it unfold like a TV show.

My heart bleeds for the world we’ve created. One that believes there is good justification for the suffering we’re causing our fellow human beings and our planet Earth—our only human family and home. It also bleeds for I know I’m no innocent bystander…

🦋 Happy Sunday everyone 🦋

With love,

Dina 🫶🏽

PS : all use of em dashes are my own.

Resources:

  • This week’s song is obviously The Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel

Your weekly poem: CAGED BIRD—or the world of coaching in the advent of AI

Your weekly poem: CAGED BIRD—or the world of coaching in the advent of AI

🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away… 

I’ve just come out of an Association for Coaching AI Virtual café session that left me feeling both angry and depressed… I will probably be writing an article about it at some point, but I’m not ready yet. What I can offer you today is raw. And then I remembered Angelou’s poem.

So, I’m offering you her poem as a way to express how I feel right now towards the coaching profession in general, and AI coaching agents specifically.

 

CAGED BIRD

🌻 A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom. 🌻

—Maya Angelou

 

Caged…

… in the belief that simulation is as good as reality. That placing words next to each other based on statistical probability is the same as two human beings making meaning together.

… in the belief that relationship is secondary. In the reduction of relational coaching to having a “nice relationship”—as if presence were decoration, only needed at the beginning of a session.

… in the doubt of our own value, experience, and humanity—so much so—that we think AI can emulate our “knowledge”, as if we were walking encyclopaedias to be downloaded for greater effect.

… in frameworks that have reduced coaching to a set of competency boxes to be ticked—and in the ensuing illusion that if AI can tick those same boxes, it must be coaching.

… even in our own tools and techniques, as if coaching were a set of formulaic transactions, processes and structures you download—rather than a way of being you spend a lifetime developing.

… in an illusion of false promises—calling it democratisation when it’s just cost-cutting dressed up as access—creating a caste system where those with least get the least.

… in the pretence of progress—at enormous environmental cost, in a world where millions still have no reliable internet connection to access the “solution” being sold to them.

Caged …

Caged …

I have no words of wisdom or hope to offer you today… except that I REFUSE to be caged.
I did not leave my golden cage to be entrapped in a bronze one—and nor have you.

I am the free bird.
I leap on the back of the wind
and float downstream
till the current ends
and dip my wing
in the orange sun rays
and dare to claim the sky.

Who are you? And what do you dare to claim?

 

🦋 Happy Sunday everyone! 🦋

With love,

Dina 🫶🏽

PS: I’m speaking my truth from a relational, Gestalt-informed tradition—and I’m well aware not everyone shares this frame.

Resources:

  • This week’s song is Freedom! ’90 by George Michael

“We’re not here to be quiet”—Your weekly poem on being REAL

“We’re not here to be quiet”—Your weekly poem on being REAL

🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away… 

REAL

🌻 I’ve cried when I’m happy
And cried when I’m sad
I’ve smiled through the good times
And smiled through the bad

I’ve screamed in excitement
I’ve screamed out in pain
I’ve gasped at the sunshine
And gasped at the rain

I’ve laughed when I’m nervous
And when I’m elated
I’ve sighed with contentment
And when I’m deflated

I’ve sung when I’m lonely
And sung in a crowd
I’ve shouted when angry
And when I’ve been proud

‘Cause whether we’re up
Or we’re riding a low
Our feelings are desperate
For somewhere to go

We can’t keep them trapped
And locked up in a cage –
They force their way out
‘Cause they need to escape

And sometimes we’re told
That emotions are weakness
That feeling is flawed
If we let it defeat us

But how can this be?
Surely this must be wrong
For what could be weak
About something so strong

Cannot be tamed
Can’t be kept down
And cannot be contained

So when you next shout
Or you laugh or you cry
You scream or you smile
Or let out a sigh

Whatever the reason
Just let yourself feel
We’re not here to be quiet –
We’re here to be real 🌻

—Becky Hemsley
published in “Letters from life”

🪴 Feelings want their rightful place

This week I had the pleasure of supporting John Leary-Joyce on his Gestalt Coaching foundation course, with a remarkably gifted group of participants.

The focus was on the coach’s use of self—showing up fully, bringing their own present-moment experience into the room as live data to facilitate the client’s own embodied experience. In other words: to feel alongside. To be real, together.

Becky’s poem captures something the Gestalt tradition has always known: that feelings want and deserve their rightful place—be it in a coaching relationship, at home, or at work.

🪴 Neither tidy nor optional

The poem is a great reminder of the power of feelings and their versatility.

I cry when I’m happy and when I’m sad.
I scream out of excitement or pain.
I sing when I’m lonely or overjoyed.

Whatever the context or reason, and however they show up, feelings allow us to be real.

Our emotions are neither tidy nor optional. They are relentlessly looking for a way out. And perhaps the most radical thing we can do—especially at work—is to stop pretending otherwise.

Which raises the question: how much space do we actually create at work for people to feel—and to be real—without panic?

For most companies I know, the answer is “very little space”, because emotions are messy, can be scary, and we don’t always know how to deal with them in ourselves, let alone in others…

You’d be surprised at the number of times I’ve had a manager come to me, in panic, because their employee cried during a check-in or a team meeting…

🪴 The paradox at the heart of it

The poem holds a paradox at its heart
—that the very thing we’re told makes us weak is the thing that makes us real;
—that the very thing we perceive as weak is in fact “so strong” it “cannot be tamed”, “be kept down”, or “be contained”.

Sometimes feelings arrive uninvited; they often refuse to be reasoned with; and they will inevitably find a way out—one way or another.

And yet we spend so much energy at work building walls around them.

I understand why—I really do.

But I wonder if those walls are the best way to create a healthy productive environment… or if they’re actually making things worse.

Because here’s the deeper paradox:

🪴 When feelings burst

The more an environment values “head” over “heart”, the more it encourages the stifling of feelings, and the more those feelings will eventually burst through in ways that are far more disruptive than if they’d been given space in the first place.

Unaddressed emotions don’t disappear. They calcify into disengagement, fear, absenteeism, and sickness.

That’s when managers start yelling at employees; employees burst out of meetings, punching a wall; colleagues stab each other in the back—and the rest burn out.

And, because we are ever so polite with one another
—either no one names what’s happening and the cycle quietly poisons the whole environment,
—or someone gets fired for ‘inappropriate behaviour’, only for the pattern to repeat somewhere else, with someone else.

This is the paradox Becky names—and one I work with companies to navigate every day.

It’s messy. And yet, putting our heads in the sand won’t make feelings go away.

(A note on context: I’m not suggesting every workplace becomes a therapy room, or that a surgeon pauses mid-operation to process their anger at their boss. There’s a meaningful difference between expressing feelings responsibly and being overwhelmed by them. What I am suggesting is that many workplaces seem to be allergic to emotion altogether.)

🪴 “How are you?”; “How do you feel?”

One of the things John challenges us on is finding different ways to ask someone—a client, a colleague—”How do you feel?” In fact, he bans the phrase from his foundation course. 😅

On the one hand, a question like “How are you?” has become a wall in itself—polite, well-meaning, and very easy to deflect.

But even a genuine “How do you feel?” is often met with “I’m not sure.” Why?

Because we’ve lost our connection to our body, and without that connection it becomes much more difficult to name our feelings—until suddenly one day, someone bursts into tears in a meeting or loses their temper with a direct report…

And this is precisely why learning to do better than “How are you?” or “How do you feel?” matters—because the first step to creating space for feelings is learning how to reach them.

🪴 So what might it look like in practice?

It starts with leaders who are willing to go first—who model what it looks like to be real, responsibly. When a leader normalises emotion, they give everyone around them permission to do the same.

And it starts small: a team meeting that opens with something other than the agenda; a culture that treats someone crying not as a crisis to manage, but as an opportunity to demonstrate curiosity and compassion; a colleague who says “You seem a bit down today” instead of “How are you?”.

None of this requires a therapist on staff. It requires a change in what we allow ourselves to notice, and what we choose to do with it.

🪴 So, two questions for you this Sunday:

📌 When was the last time you allowed yourself to express your true feelings—to be real?

📌 How else could you ask someone “How do you feel?” without using those words? I’d love to read your thoughts in the comments below 👇🏽.

And I’ll reveal some of John’s and my favourites in the comments once you’ve had your turn!

 

🦋 Happy Sunday everyone! 🦋

With love,

Dina 🫶🏽

Balthazar, the donkey

Picture of Balthazar: my new friend at SurVojo.ch and teacher of healthy emotional expression

Resources:

  • Where to visit Balthazar: If you live nearby Binningen (CH), you can visit Balthazar (and Fabian) at the Sur Vojo farm (survojo.ch). You will find two Grand noir du Berry there – Balthazar is the smaller one. The other, and much larger one, is Lotus. 
  • This week’s song is Aerials, cover by The Barefoot Movement