Here is an article I wrote in January of 2010. I'm bringing it back to remind you to clean up your should. 

This holiday season, since around Thanksgiving time, I’ve been shoulding all over the place. I should be doing this, and shouldn’t be doing that. I should be writing or I should be resting or I should be working or I should be doing…anything other than I am. And on and on. And on. Exhausting. I, in fact, created such an enormous pile of should that I practically buried myself under it. But as a reached my arm out through the mound built around me I realized…it’s time to clean some should up.

Dear Body, This Valentine’s Day, I wanted to apologize for a few things, and tell you how much I appreciate you—all of you. I know I don’t tell you enough. So, here it goes…

Legs. I often grab you and make fun of you, but then you continue to support me to get to where I need to go, to run, to twirl, to dance, to cuddle. I’m so thankful for you. I promise to be as kind to you as you have been to me. Thank you for forgiving me—You truly are beautiful, and quite helpful.

Butt. Sometimes I tell you I want you to be smaller, but the truth is, you make me feel sexy, no matter what the magazines say. It’s kinda’ hard to admit, but seriously--keep being you. Oh, and I’m so sorry for squeezing you into pants you clearly don’t want to be in. I really appreciate that you get it.

This month The IS Collection is coming clean with Soapbox Therapy! Check it out...

A funny thing happens to your authentic inner amazing fabulous self and your hopes and dreams and goals and talents and creativity, when they don’t get expressed to the world. When you keep them inside, afraid and unsure of your interest in letting them be seen and heard and witnessed and challenged. They get stuck, weigh you down, and, drum roll please…make you depressed. Yes, really.

Not the I-just-lost-someone-or-something kind of depression. Not the transition and change and new chapter of life kind of depression. Not the post or pre or during or after that new thing started or that old thing ended kind of depression. This is the I-have-no-idea-why-I-feel-so-down-and-dark-and-heavy-and-I’ve- talked-and-analyzed-and-told-my-story-from-childhood-to-now-and-haven’t-yet-found-a-clue--kind of depression.

Once in a while I learn a word, a phrase, a way to explain something I’ve been trying and craving and yearning to explain in that perfect I-get-it-and-it’s-never-made-more-sense-than-it-does-now-kind-of-way.

Last week, while having tea and catching up with my beautiful friend Rebecca, it happened; I learned the phrase I’ve been looking for.

Here's a little something I wrote for The IS Collection this month...

In my house, presented proudly amongst candles and a vase of flowers, is “The Art of Doing Nothing,” a book by Veronique Vienne. Despite being an amazing resource, this book became a decorative accessory describing ways to relax and recharge I had yet to sample. I loved having it on display, even though I hadn’t picked it up or read it for years, because simply walking past it on a daily basis made me feel like one day, preferably in this lifetime, I might just get around to learning about doing nothing. Finally, I did..

I took my always going, working, doing-something-self to boon hotel + spa, with hopes of not only celebrating travel, but practicing shifting gears, changing scenery, slowing down … and with some luck, learning a bit about nothing.

The following article was published in The IS Collection's March 2010 issue. Check out their website here!

Buying things and giving things and getting things. Affording and keeping and wanting and craving and needing things. There is a stigma about our attachment with and desire for things: Fingers pointed, judgments formed, comments made and conclusions jumped to-because of our relationship with things. But the thing is, things are not a bad thing. I wonder though, what really is the thing about things?

Some things are just things and other things represent things far more than material things. People, places, that time a long time ago and that time yet to come. Everyone has different things that matter, different things that mean something. Sometimes things are the only way to say, describe, explain, express that thing that you want to say, describe, explain, express…but don’t-can’t-won’t…without a thing--so you don’t have to say a thing.

I was flattered a few weeks ago when, after stumbling upon Soapbox Therapy, SFCAMFT (The San Francisco Chapter of The California Association of Marriage and Family Therapists) asked me to contribute to their Spring 2010 newsletter.

I decided to write about those who have taught me the most as a therapist-and a person for that matter...teenagers.

The IsCollection's annual wedding issue came out last week and the editor asked me to contribute something not unrealistic-over-the-top-weddings-and-engagement-and-love-and-relationships-are-perfect-in-every-way-googly-mushiness... She said Brooke, write something real, and I said, Ms. Editor, you've come to the right place....

So, here is "The Thing About Being Engaged" ...some romance and some reality all mixed up in one Soapbox Therapy package.

Happy New Year! This article was recently published with The IS Collection, , (with a few edits) a series of lifestyle based Web sites and gloss publications building community throughout the counties of Marin, Napa and Sonoma, CA. Once a month the publications are distributed to 37,000 San Francisco Chronicle subscribers...

Enjoy the article, and I look forward to getting back on my Soapbox in 2010!