October 2026 Newsletter
I recently spent time in Sicily for a Brainspotting Training in Carini alongside practitioners from around the globe, and it was everything I hoped it would be. But what I didn't expect was how much Sicily itself would become part of the learning.
From the moment I arrived, I was in someone else's world. Completely. I couldn't simply walk into one large store and find everything I needed. Detergent came from one place. Peaches came from a fruit stand. A notebook and pen from the newsstand.
When I needed a heating pad, I went to the pharmacy. It felt a little like a treasure hunt. The driving is, let's just say, an adventure of its own. Laundry hangs from every balcony like flags of daily life. Kids play freely in the streets well into the evening, just part of the rhythm of the neighborhood in a way that stopped me more than once.
I had to slow down. I had to pay attention. I had to ask questions and observe how things were done rather than assume they would work the way I was used to.
And slowly, I began to enter their world.
I began recognizing people, and they began recognizing me. When I was struggling with shoulder pain, a familiar face at the grocery store helped me find frozen peas to use as an ice pack. At the pharmacy, Tylenol wasn't sitting on an open shelf. It was behind the counter. The pharmacist scanned a drawer, took out the medicine, and carefully wrapped the box with Tylenol in paper and tape. Even something as ordinary as buying medicine became a whole experience.
I celebrated my birthday on the island of Favignana, known for its famous red tuna, riding e-bikes with one of my favorite people, Toni. None of it was planned. A double rainbow appeared on the way over. I got to see medieval towns perched 3,000 feet above sea level, the salt pans in Trapani, made new friends in Marsala from Poland, and was there during the town's biggest festival of the year in Carini.
I began recognizing people, and they began recognizing me. When I was struggling with shoulder pain, a familiar face at the grocery store helped me find frozen peas to use as an ice pack. At the pharmacy, Tylenol wasn't sitting on an open shelf. It was behind the counter. The pharmacist scanned a drawer, took out the medicine, and carefully wrapped the box with Tylenol in paper and tape. Even something as ordinary as buying medicine became a whole experience.
I celebrated my birthday on the island of Favignana, known for its famous red tuna, riding e-bikes with one of my favorite people, Toni. None of it was planned. A double rainbow appeared on the way over. I got to see medieval towns perched 3,000 feet above sea level, the salt pans in Trapani, made new friends in Marsala from Poland, and was there during the town's biggest festival of the year in Carini.
This month I’m sharing another piece by my favorite Girdwood artist, Dawn Gerety. Her work holds wildness and stillness at the same time, which feels exactly right.
What Sicily Taught Me About Entering Another Person's World
What I teach couples all the time in Imago Therapy is that:
Your partner has a world. And you have a world.
One of the most important skills in the Imago Conflict Dialogue is learning what it truly means to enter your partner's world. When your partner is the Sender (or Speaker), your job is not to explain your world, defend your position, correct their perception, or prepare your response.
For a moment, your world goes quiet. You step into theirs.
Sicily gave me an unexpected, lived experience of what that actually feels like. I was somewhere I didn't know how things worked. I couldn't assume. I had to look, ask, and receive. The moments I let go of how things "should" work were the moments I connected most deeply.
Your partner's world isn't wrong because it isn't yours.
Think about driving. When your partner is driving, you are literally entering their world, you aren't controlling the steering wheel, you aren't deciding when to turn. You're sitting beside them, experiencing the journey from the passenger seat.
Or think about cooking, or a drawer organized just so, or a morning routine. Our homes are filled with these little worlds. And they give us opportunities to practice something profound:
I can recognize that your experience is real, even when it is different from mine.
That doesn't mean agreement. It means validation.
Sicily reminded me how much I miss when my thinking is that my way is the way. And that's the gift of stepping into someone else's world — Having uncertainty and then curiosity replaces judgment. Instead of why don't they do it the way I do, we begin asking:
What is it like for you? What does this mean to you? Help me understand.
That is the heart of Imago Dialogue.
When your partner is sending, you are not required to abandon yourself. You are simply practicing the ability to put your own world aside long enough to fully experience theirs, saying: "For these few minutes, I want to live in your world."
And then, when it is your turn to send (or speak), your partner gets to enter yours.
That is where connection begins. Not because two people finally agree, but because two people become willing to visit each other's worlds.
Perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts we can give the person we love:
"Your world matters enough to me that I am willing to step inside it."
A Simple Practice for This Season
The next time your partner says or does something that frustrates you, pause before responding and ask yourself:
What might make this make sense from their world?
Not to excuse it, just to understand it.
This quarter, we're exploring the art of conflict through Imago Dialogue. If you and your partner are ready to go deeper with this work, I'd love to connect.
Aarne’s Update
Aarne has officially started his Community Therapy Dog Program, and we couldn't be more excited about what's ahead. 🐾
Over the next three months, he’ll be learning and practicing all the skills he needs to pass his therapy dog certification test. Once he passes, he’ll begin a 50-hour internship, gaining real-world experience through community visits and events before earning his official therapy dog title.
He’s gotten to attend a few practice sessions in the office and he's already showing the kind of natural attunement and social engagement that makes you think, yes, he was always meant for this.
We’ll keep you posted along the way as this little guy works toward becoming an official “AKC Therapy Dog”. Stay tuned for Aarne’s next update! 🐾
I’m always sharing more relationship education and practical tools over on Instagram, come connect with me @crossingshealth. And if this resonated with someone you know, feel free to share it. And if something here stood out to you, feel free to reply, I'd love to hear from you.
