I Caught the Earth Meditating


I caught the earth meditating this morning. She was sitting absolutely still. The trees were at rest, allowing the morning sun to polish their leaves. The spring flowers were trying to relax but were distracted by the beauty of it all. Each took a deep breath and with that breath, their colors became even more vibrant. The sun smiled down on it all reminding each to bring their minds back to their breath. A very slight breeze was confirmation that they were listening. A dove sat on the branch of the tallest tree. She listened to the quiet and felt completely at peace.

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Brave Healers, Speak for Those Who Can’t


The Kavanaugh hearings, and especially the testimony of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford, have shaken me to the core. I’m not alone. That is evident by the reports of 100’s if not 1,000’s of women and men reporting their stories.

I have a story. It happened in the 1970’s. It came to mind as I sat and listened to Dr. Ford. I had basically forgotten this memory all these years. I recall recognizing that as I watched and listened to Christine, my face was contorted into the same grip of fear and sadness that looked back at me from the TV screen. I felt my blood pressure rise and the anxiety in my heart grow stronger, to a point where I had to force myself from the chair and walk around the house and do some intentional slow breathing to calm myself down.

That’s called “being triggered”. I would guess that millions have been triggered by the events of late. My story was “tame” compared to others and so for me, perhaps it’s easier to share it. A co-worker pinned me up against the filing cabinets in a mail room and tried to grope me. When I tried to move he just stood there, me unable to move, and gestured with his index finger to his mouth that I should not make a sound. That’s it. That’s the story. I yelled at him and pushed as hard as I could and he laughed and let me go. I reported what happened, to no avail. My only recourse was to quit that job, which I did, because I was frightened. I believe I was very lucky.

I have known for a long time that for most women (and men, too), these stories go untold. There are lots of reasons for that: fear of reprisal, repressed memory, job security, embarrassment and on some level, shame. I’m not a therapist and suspect there are lots of other reasons. But finally, we have a hero in our midst. Dr. Ford took it upon herself to find the courage to tell her story to the entire world because she knew that this man was not qualified to sit on the Supreme Court. And she also knew that if appointed, he would be sitting on that bench for years and years to come.

Dr. Ford, thank you. You have sacrificed much to come forward. I am confident when I say that every victim out there that listened to you held you in their heart with compassion and gratefulness. That said, I also know that most of them had to relive their own story and now, must reignite their courage and self-will so that they can continue their healing process.

I know a man who walked this earth long, long ago. He believed in the testimony of women. So do I.  My prayer: that brave healers out there who have “found their voice” will speak for those who can’t. That they will use their platforms as a safe place to discuss this very difficult subject and share paths to healing  that are lined with hope and love.





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I Pray

Sedona Hike 4

I pray.

I start with His Prayer. I say it slowly, emphasizing various words to see if with that emphasis new insights will appear. Or is it to make sure He hears me? To convince Him that I am sincere?

Each day, I pray. I have from the day they were born. I pray for His protection; His wisdom; His courage; His love – and I pray that He is listening.

I feel Him at work today. One texts me to tell me she is working her way through a down time but feels stronger, more motivated as she surfaces – she is light and love. I listen while the other coaches a client on the phone. Her words embody a loving kindness and I smile. He is listening. He is watching over them. He is helping me and I am not alone. He loves them more than I do. Is that possible? Yes, but hard to imagine.

And I pray for another younger soul who is in pain. I feel her pain. He felt it long before I did. He has this.

I pray.

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Age Doesn’t Matter


A post from my daughter:

How to Bust the “I’m Too Old” Excuse and Carry On With Your Amazing Self

Out of all the excuses one could have for not sharing your wisdom and experience, doing new things, or doing brave, crazy things, your age should not be one of them. In fact if you haven’t taken a dose of the “Life is Short” energy pill, I’m going to try to inspire you to be brave and take that pill; you have people to serve and messages to shout from the rooftops!

Brave healing is about a life lived recognizing your own excuses, shutting those voices down and taking action toward the things that bring you immense joy. It’s about finally being yourself, not caring what others think, and spreading your love and wisdom into the world. It’s about knowing your worth and being courageous about owning it, day after day, until you die.

Now, whether you’re 50, like me, or 71, like my mom, or 93, it doesn’t matter. Age is no excuse. In fact it should be a big, fat excuse to take life by the horns and never look back, and make that a daily, if not hourly, practice.

“Hey mom, Dani was asking me the other day if you still want to take them (my kids) to Hawaii,” I asked with some hesitation, not knowing whether Mom was still up for it or not.

“What? OMG! Yes!,” she responded, surprising me a little. And in about 2 hours, we had a trip planned. My kids would be traveling alone for the first time, from the east coast to Hawaii, and meeting Grandma there! Holy sh&*!

Yeah, my mom is awesome like that. And she knows life is short. And she’s taking full advantage of that energy right now, not just with things like trips, but with things like her annual mission trip to Cambodia to serve the young girls affected by sex trafficking. And coming across the country for a few days to see her grandson graduate from high school. Oh, and running her business! Yes, my mom has the entrepreneurial spirit. Wonder where I got that from?

Actually my entire family has that spirit; Dad, Mom, Sister and Grandparents! Wow! I suppose I was meant for it too!

So, if you’re sitting around thinking, I’m too old for that, think again. Age is a thought and conditioned belief in your mind. Time to believe something better, healthier and more aligned with the awesome life you crave. There’s no time like the present to practice that kind of awareness. No time like now to change everything! No time like today to move toward anything you want to do in your life.

Age doesn’t matter. It’s mindset that matters.

I wrote a book called Brave Healing, a Guide for Your Journey, about healing and shifting the excuse mindset and it’s coming out June 1st. This’s my life’s work, a combination of memoir and powerful healing tools I’ve learned during my 25-year career as a holistic physical therapist and martial artist. And daughter of a mom who kicks ass.

It wasn’t easy for Mom to read this book. She was the one in my life who always told me I could do and be anything. She was the one who tried relentlessly to lift me up (still does). Well Mom, I’m doing this. Writing this book. Sharing it with the world. Being myself. Being brave. And with your help, going to do my best to spread big love and this message of brave healing in a big way.Thank you for everything you did to get me to this point. And it’s all good; the good, the bad and the ugly all take us where we need to go. Everything is a spiritual perfection, if we choose to look at it that way

Readers of my mom’s blog, can you help a girl out and spread the message of my book? You could:

*Join my Brave Healer network at the top of www.BraveHealer.com and be privy to all my inspiration (sent once a week on Tuesday.

*Buy a copy of the book: ($10): https://amzn.to/2IShny6 (or give one as a gift!)

*If you’re willing to share posts from my Facebook page: literally any shares with a note how you found me would be greatly appreciated.

*My page is www.facebook.com/kickasswarriorgoddess

*After you read the book, go to Amazon and write a review. (Extremely helpful!)

Thank you very much- what I know now about doing anything big in the world is you don’t do it alone. Every bit of support helps, especially for an author!

Feel free to share this blog too!

Love you Mom. Thanks for hanging in there with me through all of this!


Laura Di Franco, MPT is the owner of Brave Healer Productions. She’s a published poet and author, inspirational speaker, holistic physical therapist and third-degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do with over two decades of experience in healing. Praised as “our favorite class” by The Writer’s Center, her brave, intuitive writing and healing workshops are the reason she was born. She helps healers get their badass, authentic voice published in order to heal the world with their words. Her new book, Brave Healing; a Guide for Your Journey is due out June 1st! www.BraveHealer.com is where you can grab a free 30-minute call with her to learn how your story will heal the world.

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Writing is Healing

My daughter’s book launch starts today!

This is a book about healing. Laura has a mission to redefine healing and start a revolution of brave healers who are writing, speaking and sharing their stories with the world.  I’m so proud of Laura and I hope that you will take a look!

The Amazon Pre-order link (copy/paste into any post to make it easier for people!): 


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pexels-photo-783200.jpegThere was a bomb scare at my grandchildren’s high school this morning in Maryland. It happened before school started. My daughter was able to reach the kids on their cell phones and told them to turn around and come home. Turns out that it was a hoax, but hoax or not, fear was raised. My grand-kids sat in their car in the school parking lot, having just arrived for school. Their mom’s voice on the phone: “Come home now!” My grandson at the wheel – perhaps a bit numb; fear paralyzing his actions; his sister and a couple of friends along for the ride to school. “Jon, turn around and come home now.”

Can you believe that we’re having this conversation?

To the kids who survived the massacre in Florida: my heart is broken for each soul lost, and for each of the survivors as you face your “next steps”. Please don’t stop talking. Scream it to the rooftops. I believe you may be “the way”. Apparently the grownups who can actually effect change, can’t.

To the NRA – who are you people? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?

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Get up! Show up! Dress up!

PIC OF REFLECTIONI listened to the best message yesterday, and I’ve got to share. You definitely needed to be there to get the full impact, but here is the bottom line:

Standing in your garage does not make you a car! Sitting in a pew does not make you a Christian. You need to Get Up! Show Up! and, most importantly, Dress Up! Wrap yourself up in His cloak of loving kindness and forgiveness. Let people see who we Christians really are – always In His Service!

Feeling inspired – it’s a new day!

God’s Peace, Sue

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What can I say about Harvey?


Just do it.

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Before the Sun Sets and the Moment is Gone

muddy shoes

You would have been 69 today!  Happy Birthday dear Sis!

This morning, my buddy and I took a morning walk along the bay front and I mentioned to her that you were on my mind. You would have enjoyed that walk, sis. On the way back, we decided to take a short cut. We had been pondering over this short cut for months. It all depended on whether or not the tide was low, or high. Well today, all the elements were working for us. It was a very low tide; sunny outside, no wind — perfect day to try the short cut and have an adventure. The catch was, and of course, this is where the excitement comes in, we might get 1/2 a mile out and discover that the tide was coming in and we would be caught with no choice but to turn back.

My friend walked ahead of me, as we worked our way through what is normally a marshy area only suitable for water birds and an occasional coyote. The ground was very wet because it’s usually under water, and very muddy. It was also very stinky, which added to the adventure. I took care to step exactly where my friend had stepped moments before me. I figured, she hasn’t slipped and face planted into the mud, so if I just stick to her footprints all will be good. We approached a little river-let of water which required expert balance in order to step on to stones and avoid sinking knee deep into the marsh. My friend made it across in no time. As I took my first step I lost my balance and one foot sunk into the mud. It made a delightful farting sound as I pulled my foot out of the mud — and that’s when I knew that you were right there with me. I laughed out loud and threw you a kiss. My friend missed the whole thing, muttering something about raccoon prints up ahead.

I love you, dear Peg, and miss you so very much.


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History will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the strident clamor of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

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