No Place Like Home - by Cathy Hartt (AKA Grandma Hartt)
Reprinted from Spring 2006 Empower! Newsletter and dedicated to my granddaughter
Rain storms can take us back to pleasant memories of our childhood. Something about the smell and the pitter-patter might make us remember sitting on a porch swing with our grandmother. Or maybe it is the smell of certain food that takes us back to the pleasant memories of Christmas past. The psychologists have a word for this process of having our senses trigger past, pleasant memories - it is Sotoria
The pleasant memories of my own childhood frequently take me back to my life in Western Colorado. For those who have never been here, it is hard to describe the beauty of the western landscapes. I remember there is a certain wild flower near where my grandmother’s summer home was in the Northwestern corner of the state. I know instantly when I am near where grandma lived, because that smell will always remind me of the many summers I spent with my family there when I was growing-up.
Eight years ago, I left my home on the Western Slope. I remember looking out my kitchen window the day I took the job in Texas and saying that I knew someday the winds of change would bring me home as rapidly as they seemed to be carrying me away. And now, those winds have indeed brought me home - and I can look out that same kitchen window as I write this column.
The past eight years have been a time of growth for me. I have shifted my career-focus into the healthcare education arena (from nurse-midwifery). I have grown in my “people skills” and improved my resilience by becoming a life, health and business coach - and deeply enjoy helping others grow in these areas, as well. |
