If you have reached mid-life and you lie awake at night, you might know the puddle. It forms at the life-saving avenue to breath, just below the source of our speech, the vehicle for sharing truth.  The changes that come with mid-life are humbling.  In those humble moments, we can discover brilliant creativity and joy.  Don’t miss it.

My name is Sallyann.  In 1908-ish, my maternal grandfather came to the U.S. through Ellis Island by ship from Turkey with a family friend and was raised by Greeks in New Hampshire.  At age 33, this Muslim man married my 18 year old grandmother, the youngest of nine of an Irish Catholic family in Philadelphia.  My grandparents raised five children in New England and my mother was the only girl.   Across town, my dad was the youngest of five children, son of the town Postmaster and liquor store owner, an English/Hungarian father and an Irish mother.  My dad left this world in 2007, remembered fondly as a beloved Headmaster of a southern independent school.   I’m a mutt with curly hair, middle-eastern skin, and a warm smile.  In 1975, at age 16, my parents, two sisters, brother and I moved south of the Mason-Dixon, probably the biggest challenge of my life.  I attended a prep school in the south, studied philosophy and religion at a state university where I played lacrosse for the first time, captaining the team my senior year.  I received a Master’s degree in counseling and at age 30, married the youngest of nine children, a fourth generation German/American: a family of builders, engineers and architects. ​We live in an urban row house and have one beautiful curly-haired daughter, who began college in the fall of 2013.


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