Finding time, Having fun, Learning as we go, Letting go, Maintaining balance, Making peace, Practicing faith, Sacred Practices, Self-Reflection Gratitude, Keep it simple, One day at a time terry@thejoyofcaring.com 3 Comments

Newest Release…
Sharing this book reminds me of opening Sunshine’s crate.
Rather than dashing to the sea, Sunshine peered out, cautiously. When her crate was gently disassembled and she was eased onto the sand, she made her way slowly down the beach, guided by her Marine Mammals of Maine (MMoME) caregivers who shielded her view of the spectators gathered to cheer for her and poolmate Dexxy. When Sunshine made it to the bay, she paused in the shallows while she acclimated to the chilly water, lapping waves, glistening sun. Then she submerged, and off she went.
I can relate to Sunshine’s apparent reluctance, as I release this book I wrote and illustrated about her recovery, from collection to rehabilitation to release. I also received great care along the way and down the homestretch – from my childhood friends Nancy (who illustrated the front cover), Biz (who took photos of the release) and Margie (who cheered my every step), to my editor, Genie Dailey (Fine Points Editorial Services), and my creative coach, Lindy Gifford (www.manifestidentity.com), to the folks at MMoME (who gave the book their thumbs up).
Wanting to get the story and its details right, I too have taken my sweet time before taking the plunge. And just like the time came for Sunshine to swim free, the time has come to set her story free. So here it is, available online and by request at your local book shop. I hope you enjoy!

Upcoming Book Release: A Seal Named Sunshine
Last spring, I started another children’s book, this one based on the journey that began with discovering a stranded gray seal pup while we were taking a winter dog walk. I was inspired by what I witnessed as I watched Marine Mammals of Maine (MMoME) collect, rehabilitate, and release this beautiful creature and her poolmate Dexxy back into Casco Bay. Writing it all down felt like a celebration of dedication, generosity, resilience, hope, and grit. Telling this caregiving story felt lighter than the last one I shared (Living Is for Living: A Caregiver’s Story) as it involved sitting at my table drawing pictures of baby seals while Peach the Cat tried to play with my trusty coloring pencils.
This fall, as the book neared completion, unexpected challenges popped up in my personal life and horrific aggressions happened globally, then locally. I lost the clarity I usually rely on to get things done. While I wanted to do justice to A Seal Named Sunshine: The Story of Sunshine and All the Rest Who Made a Big Splash One Winter in Maine, my focus was pulled to the broader losses, and I wondered if obsessing on a seal’s eye markings was inappropriate, self-indulgent, and even denial of the larger context.
I thank my lucky stars for my creative coach and publishing consultant Lindy Gifford (www.manifestidentity.com) for her patience with my tweaks and her continued attention to the details, those I missed and those I had a hard time letting go.
In the wake of the mass shooting in Lewiston, I texted her an apology for my slow pace: “Hi Lindy, I just wanted to acknowledge, as I continue to finesse Sunshine’s image, there’s so much loss, sadness and fear in our state right now. I hope you and your loved ones are okay, even as I know this touches us all even if from a distance…”
Lindy replied: “Don’t worry, Terry. We have to keep doing our work…These are scary and unsettling times for sure and I am happy I can also work on good books like yours with good people like you… Sending calm and resolve to us all.”
This is not the first time Lindy has helped me stay the course through the home stretch of self-publication. I appreciate her presence at my side, sorting through all kinds of things, from caring for a loved one with Alzheimer’s disease, to describing fictional animal adventures (The Douglas the Rabbit Adventure Series), to capturing the intricacies of marine mammal conservation.
I realize today that all the drawing and redrawing does not minimize graver concerns, it actually gives me comfort and purpose. As I hold close the devastating losses faced by so many, I allow myself space to finish this project, in the hope it will support the efforts of organizations like MMoME while also spreading the wonder I experienced watching them work their magic. I hope A Seal Named Sunshine will bring you joy like it does me. I’ll let you know when it’s available : )

The Wrap: Douglas the Rabbit’s Winter Holiday Surprise
“Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.”—Victor Hugo (1802-1885), author of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Les Miserables
Across traditions, winter holidays are observed with decorations, foods, gifts, lights, rituals, and visits with family and friends. They celebrate hope and joy, even amidst hardship. In that spirit, I’m excited to offer:

In this last book of the series, Douglas invites the other animals to a gathering that captures the friendships they share. It’s a reminder of the importance of making time for what matters most: Connection to others and the world we share.
This one’s a shout-out to my spouse, Doug, and our children—Siena, Matt, and Garrett—with whom we witness the humor and beauty around us, with special thanks to the sightings that inspired the illustrations: Canadian geese skidding to a stop across fresh ice, paper snowflakes created by the kids from coffee filters, shooting stars streaking across the night sky.
I share this story today, on what would have been Dad’s 90th birthday, in gratitude for all the ways he made us laugh, including his story-telling, and for encouraging me to tell stories, too.
“Peace and quiet,” he’d say, a twinkle in his eye, when I’d ask him what he wanted for his birthday.
When I ask myself that question, as I approach my sixtieth, what I want is the gift of kindness.
So, in wrapping the Douglas the Rabbit Adventure Series, it makes sense that, even without doing so intentionally, this final story celebrates these three gifts: peace, quiet, and kindness.
I hope you enjoy!

Seeing What Is Right in front of Us
We find ourselves by looking out at what looks back…
—Poet David Whyte in Lon’s Fort (Many Rivers Press, 2012)
As we celebrate the resurrection of the retaining wall out front,
meant to keep the dogs in and the water out, I take my daily walk.
Everywhere I look, I see walls…rock, metal, brick, vinyl, cement.
Some crumbling, some reinforced. Some peeling, some painted fresh.
Some leaning, some erect. Some clean and bare, some covered in growth.
Some walls are ornamental, some utilitarian. Some provide privacy, some protect.
Some are new; some are old…boundaries then, gardens now.
Some have spikes delivering a clear STAY OUT, some offer a deliberate way in.
Nothing says WELCOME like an open gate.
Together, the walls I see around me remind me of the the walls I’ve built inside me:
WHO were my walls meant to keep in and out?
WHAT do they look like from the other side?
WHEN did I build them and do they still serve?
WHERE do I let others through?
WHY do I keep my walls in place?
HOW can I reinforce them? HOW can I tear them down?
In the midst of all this, I see a wall doubling as a lost and found,
a pair of pink plastic sunglasses resting on top.
I wonder who left them and what adventure they were on.
I remember when our kids were young, the way walls inspired climbing, balancing, jumping…
simpler times for sure.
And so I walk on, a smile on my face, grateful that finding the answers isn’t always necessary,
that sometimes just seeing the questions is enough.

A Giant Lesson in Mindfulness
While friends welcome grandkids, we welcome grandpets. The spirited beagle and her three-legged feline sidekick have moved south, so this post is dedicated to Tula who turns three today.
A novice when it came to caring for giant breeds, I needed help coaching Tula’s Great Pyrenees instinct to scare off intruders like the pizza guy and UPS.
“If we consider a dog’s reactivity on a scale of zero to ten, the sooner we offer distraction from stressors, the more effective the intervention will be,” said Starla, the dog trainer, on day one. In other words, if we redirect Tula when she’s at level two arousal, we’re going to be a lot more successful than waiting ‘til she’s at seven, when gentle snowflake has become howling blizzard.
Sent home with the assignment to practice sit and heel and redirect attention at the first sign of reactivity, we set to work. Empowered with the tools of awareness and consistency, I was eager to take Tula on neighborhood strolls that were more intentional, less intense.
To this day, a year later, walks with Tula remind me of how I respond to my own rising stress: to her puffs I compare my held breath, to her stiff posture my clenched jaw, to her upright tail my hunched shoulders, to her low growls my deep sighs. So focused on what’s going on around me, I sometimes miss what’s happening inside me. It can take a cold sore on my face to remind me to shift focus. Like Tula, I benefit from noticing the initial signals so that I can redirect my energy before the stress boils over in unnecessary, ineffective, and even self-destructive ways.
In the midst of that first training session, I’d been incorporating mindfulness into my work.
“Mindfulness training involves the practice of bringing one’s attention to the present moment, to what we are doing and what we are feeling, without judgement…via simple exercises of breathing, body scanning, gratitude, and kindness towards oneself and others. The emerging data are promising, showing that children who participate in mindfulness programs show less anxiety, greater concentration and memory skills, and handle difficult emotions better.”—Johanna Calderon, PhD, Harvard Medical School, “Executive function in children: Why it matters and how to help,” (December 16, 2020).
As academic coach, noting the signs of a student’s stress and offering useful coping strategies are key; helping students to recognize the signs and use the strategies on their own, like the dog trainer did for me, can be life-changing. This means slowing the learning process down: checking in to see what’s up, naming the place the student may be getting stuck, stepping outside (literally and figuratively) for a breath of fresh air, offering company and encouragement, and doing my best to bring lightness and fun while also keeping it real, each step of the way (for a great coping strategy, see Dr. Kristin Neff’s Self-Compassion Break).
Recently, while getting to know a new student, I recognized once again the importance of learning how stress shows itself in others, so that we can offer support in a way that is timely. I don’t mean to suggest that mindfulness is easy. If my walks with Tula teach me anything, it’s that this is not a short-term fix, but a lifetime practice…one that ebbs and flows, and when committed to, can change everything.
There’s no question that Tula has good reason to react the way she does, to internal and external cues. We all do. The question is whether our reactions diminish or improve our quality of life. It helps to have others in our lives who gently and consistently remind us to take care of ourselves, so that we stay on the path and even enjoy the view.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TULA!

1, 2, 3…ready or not, here we come: Douglas the Rabbit’s Fall Field Trip
With autumn in sight, I’m eager to share another fun story:

The third book in the series, this one is dedicated to my cousin Margie (“Pea-Wea”) who fondly recalls Dad’s yarns and joins me on adventures of our own, making me laugh every step of the way (note above photo, circa 1976). I’m grateful for friends like her who offer encouragement while keeping it real, and also help me recall the details so that we can reminisce long after.
The drawings of Brown’s farm were inspired by Margie’s childhood home in Waterville, Maine, where we played all kinds of rambunctious games with her siblings, Andy and Beth. I appreciate how their parents, Uncle Bill and Ainty Joano, kept the doors open and the treats hidden… where we could easily find ’em!
Book Three merges these recollections with adult memories of R’s Farm of Mequon, Wisconsin, where my spouse and I took our own kids, year after year, for fun fall outings. I’m thankful, too, for the examples set by our bunnies, Mocha and Cocoa, who showed us how rabbits do what they do, and by our dogs, Bubby, Daisy and Yaz, who alerted us to visitors when the kids were young.
Here’s to the beauty of the upcoming season—can’t you just smell the warm apple pie?
PS: Click on the book to find it online, or go to your local bookstore and ask for it there. Enjoy!

Up next, just in time for Mom’s birthday: Douglas the Rabbit Makes Some Friends

Douglas the Rabbit is a character that my dad created when I was a girl. The first book, The Original Douglas the Rabbit Story, introduced Douglas and his adventurous spirit. The second book, Douglas the Rabbit Makes Some Friends, goes back to the previous spring to describe how Douglas befriends a bird, a skunk, a chipmunk, and a fox… a diverse group of animals, for sure.
While the first story stayed true to the story my dad told, this one reflects my own everyday adventures with my family and pets, especially our hamster Mischief who showed us how she could store treats in her cheeks.
And too, it reflects Mom’s GO FOR IT approach to new challenges – which I celebrate today, her 91st birthday.
Click on the book photo to find it on Amazon, or go to your local bookstore and ask for it there. Enjoy!
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