Same Landscape, Different Eyes
As we move in rhythm with Mother Nature and bask in the beauty of autumn, we’re surrounded by gentle reminders of Thanksgiving. Everywhere we turn, the season whispers gratitude.
For me, Thanksgiving isn’t confined to one day on the calendar, it’s a daily practice, a quiet acknowledgment of the blessings woven into ordinary moments.
Gratitude is the quiet turning of the heart, a soft yes to the gifts already here, a remembrance that even the simplest moments are threads in the tapestry of grace.
Author Melody Beattie reminds us, “Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.”
Melody’s words echo the message in the title song from my latest album, “Same Landscape, Different Eyes.” Turn obstacles into opportunities, challenges into change, stumbling blocks into steppingstones, losses into gains. When we meet life with awe and wonder, awake and aware of both its messiness and magnificence, we can shift our perspective and truly see with different eyes.
Years ago, while studying Positive Psychology with Tal Ben-Shahar, Maria Sirois, and Megan McDonough, I learned a simple yet powerful practice: the gratitude jar. When I returned home from our week at Kripalu, I pulled out a medium size mason jar and placed it on our kitchen counter where my husband, François, and I often shared dinner. Each evening, we’d write one thing we were grateful for on a small piece of paper, roll it up, and place it mindfully in the jar. At the end of the month, we’d sit together, unroll each note, and read them aloud. It was a gift, a ritual of remembrance that deepened our connection our respect for one another, and our love.
This past spring, while on a yoga retreat in Anguilla led by my dear friends Denise DeLuca and Ben Wisch, awareness found me again. Ben’s close friend, singer-songwriter Eugene Ruffolo, shared a new song titled “Do You Love Well Enough.” The chorus lingered in my mind, stirring a quiet inquiry within: Do I love well enough?
I began reflecting on my closest relationships, with François and my daughter Natasha, and I realized there was room to be more present, to love more consciously, more fully and to listen with ears wide open! As I silently sang the refrain to myself, I was struck by a renewed awareness of how much I take for granted and the opportunity for growth right in front of me!
Transformation, I’ve learned, begins with awareness, that quiet moment when we remember we have the power to reframe the landscape before us and see through ever-changing eyes. From that moment of remembering, the journey begins.
My latest journey is a figurative one. Jill McKeon, owner of Village Yoga in Glen Rock, NJ, invited me to write a chant for her upcoming 200-Hour Yoga Teacher Training, launching in February 2026.
Over several revealing conversations, Jill shared her vision for the training rooted in her deep commitment to creating a safe, nurturing container, a space where her students can feel seen, heard, and held in loving hands.
I am profoundly grateful for the opportunity to co-create with Jill and compose a mantra that honors both the Yogic teachings and Village Yoga’s ethos:
“Through movement, breath, and mindfulness, we return home to the best version of ourselves. When we care well for ourselves, we are better able to care well for each other.”
