Creative Arts Therapist on Your Dementia Care Team?

Artful Approach, Caregiver's Journey, Dementia Compass

On a Tuesday afternoon, I was going around the halls of an assisted living community inviting people to a program I was about to lead. There was a gentleman there who I always looked forward to saying hi to, knowing quite frequently he would turn down my invitation but enjoyed a brief visit. On this particular afternoon, as I knocked on his door and saw him sitting in his chair, I could see he was waking up from a nap. He looked distressed as I greeted him. The world I walked into that afternoon was that of a battlefield. This man, who had dementia, was reliving his time at war. I could see the trauma in his eyes, the fear in his hands.

At a jewelry store in town, I met a woman whose mother had dementia. Once she learned that I worked with this population she shared moments when her mom would go off into these worlds and she didn’t know what to do. She learned not to fight her mother, but she no longer felt she could connect with her mom whom she loved deeply. She could feel their lives separating.

While leaving a skilled care community I stopped to talk with a family member of a resident who recently passed away after living with dementia for several years. She shared with me no longer knew who she was and struggled to see life without spending each day visiting mom. She feared what daily life would become and the impact this would have on her relationships.

These are common stories one might hear when living with dementia.

We all possess the ability to enter into the world of someone with dementia. We all are able to sit and listen to the stories we share with each other. We all are capable of walking with another person through their struggles. This takes no special skill, no extra training, no letters behind our name. But, what would the impact be like if we invited someone with a little extra training and skills into the picture? What if we invited a Creative Arts Therapist to take a seat on our care team, joining the geriatricians, general practice doctors, elder law attorneys, financial advisors, social workers, pharmacists, nurses, priests or other religious, neurologists, and a selection of family members?

This week is Creative Arts Therapies week. It is a week where all of the fields within the Creative Art Therapies take extra time to promote the work they do in our community and share with us the role they might play in our lives. This includes Music Therapists, Art Therapists, Drama Therapists, Dance/Movement Therapists. They are individuals with special training to combine the already known power of the arts with a skillfully directed therapeutic practice. Their current role in dementia care is often that of Glorified Life Enrichment Specialist, and that may be at times the role they play, but it can be greater than that. They can sit with those who might be reliving a trauma, are struggling with the loss of a husband or their home, a diagnosis. They can support the amazing artist that come into our communities to lead programs based on the visual, performing and written arts. They can show us how to enter the world of our loved ones with dementia. They can aid us in healing during and after our dementia journey. And, they can be the bridge between the medical and non-medical side of caregiving.

Each field within the creative arts therapies can play a special role in our care, for we each have our own connection to one specific art form over another. They can partner with artists, physical therapists, nurses, and doctors to help increase the quality of care and daily living. Frequently I hear concerns about inviting arts therapist into the picture, they say they already have artist providing art therapy yet these individuals frequently are not art therapists, but an artist using the arts in a therapeutic way. (There is a difference that would be a conversation for another time.) Or they feel that the world the of our care communities is already too medicalized and having a creative arts therapist involved would be adding to the medical world. While I agree that we don’t need a creative arts therapist to be able to benefit from the arts and that our care communities lean too far into the medical realm there is still a seat at the table for these specific fields. What a creative arts therapist provides is not more of the same, but something that can partner with programs and with individuals that might need more than the basic elements of the arts. They can add a depth to the care provided. A creative arts therapist can help the families learn how to communicate and transition into this new chapter of the relationship with their loved one, and, once the time has come, help them heal and rediscover their own life once the role of caregiver has been taken away. They can sit with our care community staff and help them navigate their job and minimize the burnout and depression that comes from working with loss day in and day out.

Use the arts with your loved one and for yourself. Find moments of joy, creativity, and satisfaction and growth through the arts, then I invite you to think about the creative arts therapies. Consider opening up a spot on the care team for a Creative Arts Therapist both for your loved one and for yourself. You might be amazed at how they can help you during this time and how we have been limiting the impact they can have on those living with dementia. What has been shared above is just a peek into what is possible.

To learn more about the Creative Arts Therapies and to find a Creative Arts Therapist in your area (credentials to look for):

Drama Therapy   (RDT or RDT-BCT)

Music Therapy  (MT-BC)

Art Therapy   (ATR or ATR-BC)

Dance Therapy    (R-DMT-BC-DMT)



A Bluetiful Life Continued

Artful Approach, Caregiver's Journey

Allison Lazicky from Tom-Notch Teams (the same Allison I did a post for in January about Life is Bluetiful) recently had me on her podcast, Bluetiful…Celebrating Kindness Leaders, produced by the Whole Care Network. It was a first for me, and hopefully the first of many. This podcast is, as the title informs, about Kindness Leaders. What is a Kindness Leader? Allison, through her conversations, answers that question and shows us that they are the very people we spend our day with at work, at home, and in our community. They are the individuals that take their triumphs and trials and use them as a way to transform how they care for others, and by doing so, give us all examples of how to better live in community with each other. Each person shares how they find the bluetiful in everyday life.

During our episode, I speak about TimeSlips and how it has become a launching point to further creativity and relationship development. (I will allow you to listen to the episode to learn more. Follow up questions are encouraged.)

After replaying what was said in my mind a few times, I walked away from this experience wondering, how am I a Kindness Leader? This is not something I label myself as or a role I thought I played. I found myself asking, what is the full depth and width of this role mean to me and the people in my life? What I came up with was this, I see it as another form of being a Beautiful Soul. A beautiful (or bluetiful) soul is one who has gone through the deep trials of life and has come out filled with a light and a spirit far beyond previously imaginable. One that can help guide and inspire others. One that can support and stand with those they love and care for, encouraging beauty and joy, and willing the good of all those they encounter. While I don’t know if I would label myself as a beautiful soul, I would accept the role of Kindness Leader. I have undeniably lived through many things that have hopefully transformed me into becoming a better care partner, a more creative care partner, and someone people know they can come to during triumphs and trials. In my Bluetiful blog post for Allison, and again mentioned in our conversation, I talk about how life is Bluetiful when we are seen and heard for who we truly are and want to become. Individuals that are capable of seeing and hearing this are Kindness Leaders. In my life I have had many kindness leaders guiding me along, standing next to me. Allison is one of them. Thank you, Allison! They have been teachers, parents and grandparents, great aunts and uncles, my brother, classmates, therapists, doctors, fellow employees, peers, church leaders, and dementia care pioneers.

When relating Kindness Leaders to dementia, in order for us to transform the way we think about, look at, and care for those who have dementia we need Kindness Leaders filling positions at every level of care and support. We need the CEOs of our care communities and companies to be Kindness Leaders. We need our charge nurses, care admissions team, medical staff, cleaning staff, activities teams, cooks, and building architects and designers to all be Kindness Leaders. We need individuals who have the wisdom and passion to transform our current care system by having the courage to ask, “What is our ideal care community? What is preventing us from reaching that ideal? What can we do to at least take a step towards that ideal care community?” Kindness Leaders are dreamers and doers. They are individuals who have a better view of the way we care for others than what is currently being exercised. It does not take extensive training or a lot of money. It simply takes a human being who wants the best for fellow human beings.

Thank you, Allison, for having me on your podcast.


To learn more about this podcast and Allison’s work visit the following links:

Top-Notch Teams:

Whole Care Network:

My Blog Post:

My Podcast Episode, Meaningful Life Enrichment in Care Communities Using the Arts:

Changing Our Negative View

Artful Approach, Faith Filled Journey

“If you are primed with negative attitudes about aging it turns out it has an impact on your health and well-being, on your risk of developing dementia, the first level of impact is on what you believe is possible.” -Dr. Bill Thomas

This was a quote from a Facebook Live session that happened a few weeks ago. Dr. Bill Thomas is, as he puts it, “the only living geriatrician on the internet” (which, side note is scary! We need more than 5,000 geriatricians in this country, and that is about how many we have) and he is a wonderful resource for us all. He got me thinking, how can we address this in a productive and impactful way? Of course, my mind went directly to the arts. Through art, we can transform the negative priming into a positive outlook. Through the way we tell stories, paint a picture, cast a play, and accept individuals into our orchestras, we can change the way our communities look at aging. By having those who are “old” participate in the arts and improving the way they are portrayed, we start a dialogue. By creating intergenerational creative projects we can experience first hand the joy, life, and meaning that can occur at all stages of life. If we start to write stories that are more than doom and gloom, we can lift the fear of aging. If we start to write stories that show life and not “living death,” we can see that joy that can be in each breath of life. If we start to write stories that don’t mock but show a full and authentic life, we start to see the reality of life’s progression.

We are starting to see a shift in this portrayal, if only at the moment just a glimmer. If you saw the new Disney movie, Coco that won 2 Academy Awards this past Sunday you might see what I am getting at. Instead of showing aging as something to mock or fear, they showed a beautiful connection between generations, and a moment where music helped connect a young boy to his great-great-grandmother in a powerful way. We need more of this in our movies, books, plays, TV shows, and artwork. This then must trickle down into our media, the news stations, the podcasts, then into our schools, community organizations, and importantly, into our own homes. We sometimes underestimate the power of what we see and hear as we listen to music, watch a movie, or listen to a news program has on how we look at and think about life.

Art can change the perspective, and encourage a change in dialogue, the language we use, and the portrayal of what it truly means to get older. It cannot do it alone though, I will be bold to say we need to also get rid of euthanasia, regardless of what we are telling ourselves, it is not a choice we are meant to have. We never know what we might be robbing ourselves of, or our communities if we support and participate in this act of murder/suicide. You all know I speak form the Catholic lens. So you had to know that this was coming. I do not abandon my faith when I enter into care, my job, my community, or when I leave the church. It is with me always. This may be polarizing, but it is an example of the boldness we need in how we address aging and care, and value of human life.

This post took a turn I didn’t plan on, but we cannot enjoy the light if we avoid the dark. Thank you for courageously reading this post with an open mind and heart. Art can change the negative priming we have about aging. Art can bring light to the darkness of aging. Art can inspire us to find joy. Art can change the way we think, but without the support of difficult moments, it remains unsupported. Therefore, we must be bold, dynamic, and engage in the community on the topic of aging.

Art Takes Us from “What” to “Who”

Artful Approach

There is a question, a seemingly harmless question, that haunts us in childhood, at the start of young adulthood, and at the end of life, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” As an adult, I still get asked this question, and I have found that with older adults it is a question of, “What were you?” This question has never sat well with me, for reasons I never chose to explore. It is a damaging question and one that should be transformed into, “Who do you want to become?” Our careers, our educational endeavors, only one small part of what makes up our lives. It is fleeting, while our values, beliefs, character, and interests are carried with us throughout our life.
It is more the topic of “what” that is a problem than the question itself. As kids we have answers, often times great and big answers to this question. We want to be doctors, artists, lawyers, firemen, construction workers, businessmen. The list is as endless as the dreams we hold. When we are young adults that question of “what” starts to feel like pressure, we have to select a major in college or decide if we are to go to college, into the army, attend a vocational school, or directly into the workforce. As we graduate and move forward into a career we have to balance the dreams we have and the not yet/maybe not of our reality. We may know where we are going, or we may not. We may know what we are doing, or we may not. We may have the golden ticket to our dream job or a door slammed into our face. The question through all of this remains, “What do you do?” This word, this question comes back when we are older, retired, when asked, “What were you?” and “What did you do for a living?”
What. What. What. What. Can we erase that word and replace it with “Who” and ask, “Who are you?” and “Who do you want to become?” For as long as we have breathe, we are becoming. The question of “who” looks at the entirety of a person, it shifts that value of a person from how they make/made their money, to how they live their life. If we are to truly connect with individuals, dementia or not, we need to get into the deep waters of a person’s life. To get behind the “what” of a life, and ask the “who” and “why” of life. I heard in a recent training, “Every time a person has a diagnosis of one form of dementia or another, it is like a library is burning down.” By asking the question of “what” we never are able to explore the books in that library. We are never able to learn from, be inspired by, or be fully connected with them if we fixate not the “what.”
How do we transform the “what” into a “who” when language and memory are slipping? Easy, through the arts and creativity. By playing music, engaging in storytelling, through art explorations and making, by asking, as Anne Basting often encourages, beautiful questions, we push aside the obstacles and reach each person on a deeper level. And in doing so, not only do we become more relational, but we also bring joy and purpose into our relationships and each other’s lives. We should engage in art, engage in creativity, and engage in asking the questions of, “who are you?” and “who do you want to become?” Not just in our encounters with dementia, but also with their caregivers, family members, and with everyone we encounter. Our children should be asked, “Who do you want to become?” Our college students the same question. Our recent graduates, our unemployed, our staff, our recent retirees, and our grandparents. Who do you want to become today? Tomorrow? For the rest of your moments here on earth? Be it through the creation and absorbing of the arts and creativity, or through asking the question.


Personal Library: Start with YES!

Artful Approach, Caregiver's Journey, Dementia Compass

“The culture shift we envision begins with communication and ends with connection,” writes Cathy Braxton and Tami Neumann on page 11 of their book, Start with Yes! A Unique Way to Communicate with Persons Living with Dementia. They are the creators of the DementiaRAW method. In a world (mostly internet world) that is filled with too much information to possibly sort through on the topic of dementia, they get to the heart of what a caregiver needs to form better connections and provide better care. They have shown us how to apply improv and the workings of basic human seeking to dementia. Many of you know that I love working with people who understand theatre because they know how to jump in, jump into the world of the person they are caring for, jump into the flexible roles, and jump into creativity.  This book shows us how to start becoming better caregivers, friends, family members, and neighbors to those living with one of the many diseases that fall under the dementia umbrella by learning how to jump in. It is short enough to be a realistic and practical guide, yet deep enough to actually be resourceful. It is a book all should have in their personal library.

We all long for connection. Connection to each other, to our world, to our own lives. We can develop that connection through communication, and the appropriate form of communication. In the dense and often overly medical and academic (and frequently negative) guides out there, this book is a gem. Thank you, Tami and Cathy!

To Seek Forgiveness

Caregiver's Journey, Dementia Compass

When dementia and forgiveness are thrown into the same sentence it is common to first think of forgiving the person with dementia, to reconcile past hurts and wrongdoings. But, what about other family members? What about forgiving brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins? What about forgiving ourselves? What about the care team?

No one is perfect. That is not a dementia statement, but a human statement. All of us carry the need to forgive and the need to ask for forgiveness. We seek healing, not always sure how to get it, fearful of how it might change a relationship, and maybe not for the better. In the context of dementia, how do we forgive our family and friends for how they might have treated our loved one? Do they even know forgiveness is needed, that they caused harm? Dementia is a thorn in life. It is scary, difficult, taxing, sad. It is loss, change, and transition. Just as each person with dementia will have a different journey, so too will the family members. Harm may be unknowingly done because of a lack of understanding or education. Hurt can come from the stress of daily life colliding with the fears of dementia and if we are an adequate care partner. Pain can come from a family member no longer knowing how to communicate with, or help their loved one, and so they lash out. We don’t understand why the person we are caring for is not adhering to the schedule or the new plan for medication distribution. We wonder why they are acting out of character, or have changed a behavior. Yelling, cornering, ignoring, denial, these are some of the actions our family members may take, we may take, when trying to care for our loved one with dementia. We must forgive ourselves and our family. Once the person has passed away, we, the family, remain. Allowing these feelings to fester with each encounter, or thought of the other person only allows more thorns to grow, and we get pricked enough during this chapter of our lives. We need to forgive regardless of the ability to fully reconcile. Forgiveness becomes the rose.

When our loved one is diagnosed with dementia we do our best to assemble a care team, find the right in-home care company or care community. The care may not be to the standards we expect. We may get angry or frustrated at the way they are approaching care. We need to forgive these individuals as well, even if elder abuse is occurring, we need to forgive. You MUST NEVER accept the abuse or allow it to continue. Anyone who knows me, knows I have zero tolerance for any form of abuse. That requires you to take action. But once your loved one is safe and at peace once more, you may forgive, if only for your own peace.

Forgiveness is tricky. It is something that everyone with a pulse struggles with throughout their life. We struggle to ask for forgiveness, to see that we need to forgive or be forgiven. We struggle to engage in the act of forgiveness; one that may take a lifetime. Despite these struggles, it is necessary. Years may have passed, some of these people may no longer be in our lives, but seek to forgive, including forgiving yourself.

The Lenten Season and Dementia

Dementia Compass, Faith Filled Journey

We are now less than a week away from Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent. This is a day that starts a 40-day journey of fasting, prayer, and almsgiving. It is a special day (though not a Holy Day of Obligation) and one that should be treated as such. For many of those living with dementia, this is has become another day of the year, another moment blurring together with other moments, and not by choice, but by loss. Many care partners and care communities (unless placed in an excellent Catholic, Methodist, or Lutheran community) don’t see this day as important for the one they care for, feeling that because they don’t know what day it is, or may not remember this day, faith yet again is thrown out when it should instead be placed prominently in a person’s life. I know not all of you are Christian, or even religious, but if the person we are caring for is, then how can we respect their faith? How can we help them on this Lenten journey?

As always I speak through the lens of a practicing Catholic, please feel free to adjust what I share to match the faith of those you care for each day. If you yourself are unfamiliar with the Lenten season reach out to those who are, myself included, and work with them. A spiritual and religious life is included in living well with dementia. Each person you care for will be in different places in faith life and in their dementia, adjust to both their physical and spiritual needs instead of throwing up your arms and tossing faith out. While Lent is frequently about what we give up and sacrifice, the season should not be another moment lost because of dementia.

Here are a few recommendations and thoughts about how we can help our loved ones live well through this upcoming Lenten season.

On Ash Wednesday: If you can (and try hard to makes this happen) take your loved one to Mass/service. Allow them to come together in communion with fellow members of the church to receive the ashes, hear the readings, and receive communion. If this is not feasible go to them, offer to read the readings (they are always available online), pray with them, and find a way to get them the ashes. “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” This powerful message for all of us is especially impactful for those who are nearing the end of their life. It is not a message of doom, but one of great hope. One that inspires us to move closer to Jesus so that we might be reunited with him.

Throughout Lent, we are asked to do three things. Pray, Fast, and Give Alms.
Prayer: This is something that should continue throughout the year regardless of the season. Pray with your loved one, find a spiritual director, deacon, priest, religious sisters, or other lay ministers and residents who might come together to pray. Even if they are unable to speak, invite them to sit with you to listen to the familiar rhythm of the prayers, finding comfort in the words. If there are books you can read out loud or in a book club format include this in your care plan and programming. Books like Matthew Kelly’s Rediscover Jesus, are written in short chunks that don’t require you to remember from day to day what you read. Help them attend Mass/service each week. Set aside time to listen to a faith-based podcast or Relevant Radio each day. Cultivate a group of individuals in the care community that can pray together. Bring a crucifix and rosary into their room if they don’t have one already. Bring Holy Water with you during your visit. Use the devotionals the church prints each year.
Fasting: Now, they don’t have to fast (one normal meal and two small meals that make up no more than one normal meal) or abstain from meat, but if they want to and it is in keeping with what is healthy and safe for them to do, allow them to do so. Don’t fight it, embrace it. This includes Ash Wednesday, Fridays during Lent and on Good Friday. Fasting is also more than food, and because of dietary restrictions, this may not be an option. Work with your loved one to find something that they may fast from during this time. It can be from negative language or a set time of TV. I once met a woman who fasted from wearing her favorite sweater during this time, as a way to remind herself that there is more to life than her favorite sweater. Get creative!
Almsgiving: Almsgiving typically means money. A sticky situation when working with a loved one with dementia. So if the giving of money during the time is not an option, you may get creative here as well. Maybe it is sending cards to the staff at the care community, working to be more positive about life, attending programs and events when someone extends an invitation (so long as they are safely able to do so) or giving that bingo prize to someone else in the group. There are many ways to give that are not financial.

During Holy Week: Help them attend Mass/service on Palm Sunday, Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday, or spend extra time in prayer with them on these days. Bringing them a blessed palm and communion on Sunday, reading the 7 Last Words on Good Friday, and singing Alleluia with them on Easter Sunday. Allow this week, and these moments to bring a new joy to their life. Support them in their spiritual growth, help them grow closer to Christ.

If you have any questions about this time, this season, or are struggling to help your loved one on their Lenten journey, reach out. Email me, contact your local church or care community chaplain. We are here to help. May God bless you as you care for your loved ones with dementia. May He guide both of you this Lenten and Easter season.


The Depth of a Life

Dementia Compass

Have we become complacent in care? In Life Enrichment? Have we thrown around term “Person-Centered Care” so much that it has lost meaning? Have we felt a lingering burnout and forget to become relational with the person we are caring for? Far too often when a new employee comes on board, they are giving a 2-minute briefing about a resident, then told to look at the board outside their door or at the possessions in their room in order to get to know a resident. This small segment of information does not show the life each individual has lived, yet it is relied on by care professionals and seen as enough knowledge to proved proper care. They believe that in taking in only this information they now know the person, have become relational with this person and can do their job successfully. It is time to reconsider this belief. We frequently feel that there are not enough hours in a day to learn more than what this picture shares, but how can we provide care without learning more?

When looking in a person’s room or the objects outside of their door, more often than not we see only what the family has selected, what they feel is important to share. It is another person’s narrative of the life of the individual sitting in front of us. The comments made by fellow co-workers is again, another person’s narrative. It can be cold, short, and sometimes inaccurate. Dementia or not, the person’s narrative of their own life is far more impactful and informative. When we look beyond this layer, we understand the deep, dynamic, beautiful life this person has lived and wishes to continue to live. Only when we use this information as a launching point towards becoming relational can we provide the best care and support possible. There is a major hurdle to becoming relational with a person with dementia, and it is not what you might think. It is not their memory or loss of language that makes it difficult. The biggest challenge is that frequently fellow staff warn their co-workers and volunteers about the residents, instead of inviting them to get to know each individual they will encounter. They become a care machine that erases the freedom of time to sit and talk or sit in silence with a resident. A life is more than a collection of things in a room. They are more than the chart at the nurse’s station. They are more than the warnings from fellow staff.  Can we really enter into a relationship when we have warnings and judgments about who this person might be? I was once told to watch out for a resident, for they will surely make me cry. That this person is nasty and cold. I have been warned about a resident who was labeled as a challenge and a disruptor, not worthy of engaging in conversation with under any circumstance. Do you want to know something? They become two of my favorite residents, and they impacted my life as much as I hope I impacted their lives. I frequently was the only person to speak with them other than for medical purposes. Their belongings and chart became human only at the moment when I was willing to enter into a relationship with these residents, allowing me to provide the programming and support they were seeking.

Life does not end, the individual’s interests, stories, and joys do not disappear when they move into a care community. Care communities in general lean too heavily on the chart, and a second “chart,” the possessions in the resident’s room. If that was our only knowledge, one would never know the struggles and triumphs in a person’s life that made them into the person we see before us. These individuals would remain a 2-dimensional task item on a list of to-dos.

The work of a care team, from the CNAs to the Life Enrichment team, to the doctors, is fast-paced. Many are often overworked, having limited time available to spend with each resident. They fear HIPPA and the Ethics boards and use it as an excuse to avoid becoming relational with a resident. (If you are working within your scope of practice, and are not sharing the information with others, you are okay.) It is the sad nature of health care. I must ask the question though, if you don’t take the time to become relational with the individual, to really get to know them, beyond a medical chart, beyond examining their belongings, can you really care for an individual properly? Do you simply prescribe medications and complete tasks that you masquerade as care? Do you see them as a burden because they will not play bingo, and then force coloring books on them so that you may fulfill your team’s engagement quota? Or, do you care for the person at this moment, in this moment, and work to improve their life? How can we make the time to SEE the person, to become relational, to provide care that is directed by their interests, needs, and desires? How can we change the way healthcare operates, transforming this “machine” into a community, one that is constantly willing the good of the other? Isn’t that what we are all seeking anyway? Isn’t that what pulled us into the work we do in the first place?

Each person we care for has lived a dynamic, complex life, one that is still evolving, growing, seeking. The chart, the words of our co-workers, and the objects in a room can help us crack open the book, but it hardly tells us the story. Find the time. Make the time. Engage. Seek to know the depth of a life.

A Bluetiful Life

Artful Approach

A few weeks ago I was introduced to the founder of Top-Notch Teams, Allison Lazicky, by Mindy Bolton of Playscriptions. During my conversation with Allison, she asked me if I would write a blog post for her site on the topic of, “Life is Bluetiful,” that would join a series she started back in September. When thinking about the topic of “Bluetiful” a play on “Beautiful” my mind spun in a thousand different directions. Life is Bluetiful in so many ways, in the funny, in the serious, in the sad, in the joyful. I was eventually able to slow down the spinning mind, put pen to paper (or rather hands to keys), and wrote the following. I hope you enjoy. I hope it causes you to ask when your life is Bluetiful. Head over to Top-Notch Teams’ website to read the other posts in this series.

My Life is Bluetiful when my crazy, frizzy, curly, auburn hair behaves. My Life is Bluetiful when I have skies of my feet or a racquet in my hand. My Life is Bluetiful both when I have the house to myself and when I am in a home filled with people. My Life is Bluetiful when above 2,000 feet or in the middle of a lake. My Life is Bluetiful when cheese fills my fridge. My Life is Bluetiful when hiding in the garden. My Life if Bluetiful when sitting in front of a fire on a cold winter’s night with family and pup by my side. My Life is Bluetiful when a book is in hand that I refuse to put down. My Life is Bluetiful when I survived a summer’s day without getting burnt. My Life is Bluetiful when I remember the password for my account. My Life is Bluetiful when sleeping with the windows open for the first time in the spring.

I have spent my life seeking the Good, the True, and the Beautiful… um, I mean Bluetiful, and I seek is still.  As I reflect now, all of life is Bluetiful. The messy and the organized. The imperfect moments and the near perfect joys. The anticipation and the arrival.

Life is Bluetiful when a wave of peace washes over us in the middle of a storm. Life is Bluetiful when a wall of sound hits us while at a choir concert, better yet, when we realize we are that wall of sound. Life is Bluetiful when we are allowed to have recess as an adult, to play and laugh so hard our stomach and face hurt for moments long after the silence has returned. Life is Bluetiful when we recognize the gift of a moment while still in the moment. Life is Bluetiful when we are seen and heard for who we are and striving to become. Life is Bluetiful always when we are seeking it, when we are ignoring it, and when we despise it.

A Bluetiful life is one well lived, filled with family, friends, purpose. When sounds of music, laughter, and the voices of those we care for fill our hears and our hearts with joy. When looking at the sky, or the ocean, or in our loved one’s eyes, life is Bluetiful.


You can follow Allison’s work by visiting:

Top-Notch Teams’ Website is

Top-Notch Teams’ Facebook is


As well as Mindy’s work:

Playscriptions’ Website is

Playscriptions’ Facebook is

To Live a Dynamic Life

Personal Story of Dementia

You cannot speak wishes of a Happy New Year without resolutions coming to mind. They are linked and inspire a sense of a better life each person is seeking to create for themselves and their family. These resolutions frequently are about appearance. They are made with hopes of having a house that is organized like that of a magazine shoot (or would it be more relatable to say Pinterest board), and they are made so that we, our bodies, might look a specific way, from the way our hair is done, to the percentage of body fat we carry. It is about beauty, and all too often outer beauty, social status beauty. While there is nothing wrong with wanting an organized home or a healthy mind and body, in fact, they are quite necessary, our resolutions fall short and put back up on that pedestal, youth and the young. These resolutions come with the impression that we will live a full year, and that life is still young and many decades are in front of us. This is not always true. As I have shared my thoughts on resolutions with others, their responses only dig the anchor deeper, as I am told I am, “acting a bit like a crotchety old lady trying to beat up the world we live in today.” We see resolutions, growth, and health only for those who are still living within the first 2/3rds of life. Never have I heard anyone ask someone who is older if they have made their New Year’s resolutions yet. Or, ask them how the resolutions are going at the end of January when most of us have long given up or moved on from our own. Some of this could be that with the wisdom only gained through age, they are beyond resolutions and don’t need them. What I think has greater accuracy is that this is yet another way our society has put a negative image on aging, a word that is moving closer and closer to the “Words That Are Inappropriate To Use” list. There are thoughts that because someone is old, they cannot make resolutions for themselves, they could not possibly think it is realistic to grow and improve their lives all because they could not keep up with the latest fitness and diet trends. We have too many negative images of aging for me to believe our society thinks otherwise.
While I am in fact young, and on paper, I do have decades to live, I work with many who are not young or don’t know how many more breaths they will take, and don’t know if they will make it to tomorrow. Some of these individuals have given up on life, others are trying their best to get up each day with a smile. When I have asked the question, “Do you make New Year’s resolutions?” I find they don’t make resolutions about having the perfect home or the perfect body. They make resolutions about trying to improve their outlook on life, or staying active, social, and staying connected with family, or finding ways they can continue to learn. In listening to their resolutions we learn how to find joy in the imperfection of life, and how to have hope through fear and the unknowns. So, as loved ones, as caregivers, as medical and non-medical professionals, as therapists, as creative arts therapists, artists, and community members, our resolutions this year, and all the years to come should be this:

This year my resolution is to live a joyful, dynamic, peaceful, creative, and giving life. To help others do the same regardless of their specific challenges, dreams, age, or time left on this earth. Regardless of the presence of dementia, or the struggles of caregiving. We can do this. To live a life seeking the beauty and the good in one another, and in ourselves. Our resolution is to love, to be hopeful, to seek the Truth. To judge less and dream more.

This resolution is ageless and looks more at the beauty of our world, our inner self, our society, of life itself, and less at the appearance of our home and our bodies. Here is to another year! Another Breath! Another moment to live our dynamic lives.


As always, we are a community of diverse individuals, each one of us has our own experiences with aging, health, community, and dementia. This is my experience and just one experience. If you would like to share your story of dementia with us by writing a blog post, commenting, or sharing directly with me your experience please feel free to do so. The more people that speak up and share, the greater our knowledge can expand.