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LATEST NEWS: March 2026

After nine miserable days of coughing, spitting, and hacking, I'm finally almost over this bug and feeling better. I will try to see clients scheduled for Thursday, March 5th and Saturday, March 7th. If you were not seen on Feb. 28 and are on a 2-week cycle I will be able to see you at your regular time scheduled on the following Saturday, March 14th. If in doubt, please text me (remember I don't usually answer calls).

When Adults Play: How Imagination, Laughter, and Storytelling Heal

Today, something beautiful happened in session.

There was giggling.
Then storytelling.
Then that quiet, meaningful pause where everyone realizes, oh… something real just shifted.

What surprised me wasn’t that play helped—it was how quickly adults stepped into it once permission was given.

Play Didn’t Disappear—It Was Interrupted

We often think of play therapy as something reserved for children. But the truth is, play doesn’t disappear as we grow up. It gets interrupted—by responsibility, by trauma, by the belief that seriousness equals safety.

When adults are invited into imagination—gently, respectfully—they often don’t resist. They exhale.

Fantasy, art, and story give the nervous system a side door. Instead of talking about fear, grief, or strength, people begin to experience them symbolically. And symbolism is a language the body understands.

The Warrior Appears

In session, an image emerged: an Irish warrior-prince. Strong. Grounded. Protective. Rooted in lineage and story.

As people looked at the image, something fascinating happened.

They didn’t analyze it.
They didn’t ask what it “meant.”
They began to relate to it.

Questions came naturally:

• What does he protect?

• What battles has he already survived?

• What would it feel like to stand like that in your own life?

One person laughed. Another softened. Someone said, “He looks braver than I feel.”

And just like that—we were doing deep work.

Why This Works (Without Making It Complicated)

From a therapeutic lens, play and imagination help because they:

• reduce threat and performance pressure

• invite parts of the self that don’t usually get airtime

• allow clients to explore identity safely and indirectly

• engage the body and emotions, not just cognition

But from a human lens?
It works because joy creates safety.

Laughter is often the first sign that the nervous system is regulating. Storytelling helps people reclaim authorship over experiences that once felt chaotic or overwhelming.

Play doesn’t trivialize pain—it makes it movable.

Adults Need Permission

Many adults carry a quiet grief: “I used to be more creative.”
What they often mean is: “I used to feel more alive.”

When therapists explicitly invite imagination—without judgment, without pressure—we give adults permission to reconnect with strength, curiosity, and even delight.

And yes, sometimes that looks like an Irish warrior-prince.

A Gentle Invitation

If you’re a therapist, consider this an invitation:

• Let images speak before words.

• Let story lead before insight.

• Let play be a doorway, not a detour.

If you’re a client or reader:

• Notice what images you’re drawn to.

• Ask what they protect, carry, or represent.

• You don’t have to “believe” in play for it to work—you just have to be willing.

Today reminded me why I do this work.

Healing doesn’t always arrive through seriousness.
Sometimes it arrives through laughter, imagination, and a story that says:
There is more strength in you than you realize.

Lola Carlile, LPC, PhD

Guest blog post by David Carlile, CSWA

Seeking Connection: The Struggle and the Need

Hey everyone, it's David here, and today I wanted to open up about something that's been on my mind lately: the complexity of human connection.

In a world that's more connected digitally than ever before, it's paradoxically become increasingly challenging to form meaningful connections. It's like desperately searching for a signal in a sea of noise.

I've found that sometimes my need for connection can be so intense that it can inadvertently repulse others. It's not that I intend to be needy, but the longing for authentic human interaction can sometimes come across as overwhelming. It's a tricky balance, isn't it?

I often wonder why it's so tough to connect these days. Maybe it's the rapid pace of life, the digital distractions, or perhaps it's the fear of vulnerability that holds us back. Or maybe it's a combination of all these factors.

I've also learned that this need to connect can be closely tied to mental health. Loneliness and the desire for connection are often intertwined, and for some, reaching out is a lifeline. It's essential to remember that if you're struggling with this, you're not alone. Many others are facing similar battles, and there's no shame in seeking help or reaching out to someone you trust.

So, I'm curious, dear friends: Do you find it challenging to connect with others in this digital age? Have you experienced the tug-of-war between the need for connection and the fear of being perceived as needy? Let's start a conversation about this.

Let's support one another in our quest for meaningful connections. Remember, you're not alone in this journey. Together, we can navigate the complexities of human interaction and work towards fostering genuine connections.