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Note: Code Red is paused until the dark and cold return. Summer in Maine is short. When it arrives, I am called not to the page but to the garden, not to words but to plants: to the purple bleeding hearts, the pink pussytoes, the hay scented ferns.

The Writing:

I have been writing this Substack for the last five years. It began as Process Notes of a Pandemic. When the pandemic was over I transitioned to writing about the other threat to life on this planet: climate change. But in November, 2024, when the coup began, I transitioned once more.

None of us have lived through a coup. None of us know how to do it. In these pages I will use my psychotherapist voice, gleaned from fifty five years of processing pain and fear and confusion, to help us all make sense of our inner worlds as we hurtle through this unmapped time when both our Democracy and life as we know it is in peril. 

Perhaps these posts will offer you, reader, the emotional resilience to withstand this terrible collapse of everything we hold dear about America and the courage for an as yet unimagined action. By sharing this blog, perhaps, both you, reader, and I, will feel less alone.