I was thrilled to see a voice from Detroit represented among international leaders in health and medicine — and telling a good-news story at that.

The work this organization does isn’t just turning abandoned lots into community gardens. It’s helping neighborhoods grow stronger and more united.

Read the post I wrote about Keep Growing Detroit for Eclectablog.

[Photo by Ashley Atkinson]

But since this space is all about me and what I think, what better place to share exciting news about my writing?

I’m delighted to announce that I am now an official contributor to Eclectablog. It’s an outstanding source of news and commentary, and I’m honored to be part of the team.

You can read the official announcement and an interview with me here.

TEDMED places its focus squarely on that question, while exploring how we got where we are and how that propels us forward. But, feeling a bit like I just came home from the best, most brilliant summer camp ever, I can’t help but wonder what lies ahead for each of us. The presenters, the delegates like me who attended, and the work we do in the world outside TEDMED.

This idea was amplified by an excellent post by Juliet Rogers, President & CEO of Blue Cottage Consulting. It beautifully expresses how TEDMED gets inside our bones if we let it — something I willed myself to be open to before I even arrived.

Over the course of the week, I found myself making connections in my brain between something I’d seen onstage and something unrelated I chatted with a fellow delegate about during a break. I also discovered the “unexpected connections” TEDMED heralds, finding surprising links between seemingly unrelated presentations.

For example, the work of Eli Beer, Founder and President of United Hatzalah, which mobilizes trained volunteers to help save lives in medical emergencies, might seem on the opposite end of the spectrum from the work of Michael Hebb, a leader in staging themed dinners, with his latest project bringing together people to talk about death and how they want the end of their life to be. But both these concepts revere and celebrate life, using innovative grassroots approaches to create new ways of looking at — and contributing to — the world. Their imagination and passion is changing how we address life and death.

Or consider the seemingly unlikely connection between Richard Simmons and U.S. Surgeon General Regina Benjamin. But on the first day of the session, Benjamin talked of bringing joy back into physical activity. A couple of days later, Simmons emulated that with his inimitable exuberance. I danced with them both onstage as the entire conference found the joy in getting moving.

Over the course of the conference, I found myself continually connecting the dots, just as TEDMED Curator Jay Walker helped us see connections between ancient books about science and ultra-modern medicine. I’m still uncovering new connections as I reflect on the week and dig deeper into the work of the presenters and delegates. It’s a scientific fact that learning creates new connections in the brain, so it’s fair to say that TEDMED will change how each of us sees the world.

Because I’m the only one of me that exists, I drew connections in my mind that perhaps no one else will. It’s true of everyone who was there. It’s true about the innovators onstage and those of us in the audience who came as delegates because of our passions, our curiosity, our dreams of doing big things.

While we were there, the seeds of new ideas were being germinated, scattering through the conference as we made connections. Who knows how they’ll blossom or when?

Back to Juliet Rogers. We have a mutual friend and had spoken many times, but the first time we met was at TEDMED. We forged an instant friendship, finding a comfortable connection from the start. But what’s even more remarkable is that I had the same experience with other delegates I met.

More than once, there was this feeling we’d met before. Or we discovered common threads not just in our networks but in our thinking. Not every conference creates the opportunity to chat with a Tony Award-nominated actress or hug a game-changing doctor within minutes of meeting.

We can’t be sure yet what these connections mean or where they’ll lead. But there’s one thing I’m certain of: The connections we made with each other are as powerful as the connections we made in our brains. We’re a community of unique, dedicated, inquisitive individuals. There’s no telling what we’ll do next. And I can’t wait to find out.

Resistance is futile. And, really, why would anyone want to resist? I certainly don’t. I’m pretty sure many of my fellow delegates feel the same way

Some of them, like me, are in active pursuit of transformation. We’re expanding our careers and dreams in new directions, and came to see what insights we could absorb. Others may have come for different reasons, but many seem to be experiencing transformation anyway

Honestly, it’s nearly impossible to resist the pull of the transformational gravity in the room. Nearly every presenter is sharing an experience of their own transformation, whether it already happened or it’s in process.

Over the last two days, I’ve had the honor of witnessing some remarkable storytelling from the stage, told in words and music and dance. Stories of healthcare, of science, of innovation. Stories of sickness and health, of life and death.

Stories like the one told by Oklahoma City Mayor Mick Cornett, who transformed his city from one of the country’s most obese to one of the most fit, simply by starting a conversation about it with citizens.

Stories of similar community engagement, like the one created by Keep Growing Detroit, which is transforming abandoned open spaces into urban gardens — making citizens healthier and inspiring them to take action in other ways to make Detroit stronger.

Stories of innovators like Jonathan Bush of athenahealth, Zubin Damania, MD, of Downtown Project Las Vegas, and Sally Okun, RN, of PatientsLikeMe, who are transforming healthcare by reinvigorating its humanity, each in their own way and with their own passions.

So many of the presenters’ stories are personal and often visceral.

Gary Slutkin, MD, of Cure Violence, believes that violence is an epidemic — and it can be cured using the same approaches used to cure epidemic disease. It’s working, which is a powerful message in the week of the Boston Marathon bombing and the Senate’s inaction on gun violence.

Peter Attia, MD, tearfully admitted his regret over judging a patient for her obesity, which prompted him to ask new questions about the real causes of obesity that may ultimately lead to new revelations about treatment.

Salvatore Iaconesi, a poet, exuberantly shared how he turned his brain cancer diagnosis into an open-source online community of creative inspiration and knowledge — and is living, cancer-free, to tell the tale.

Andrew Solomon told revelatory stories of people whose identities aren’t defined by their illness — giving us a moving reminder that sometimes, the most powerful possible cure is love.

And Amanda Bennett, who eloquently shared the story of her husband’s life and his death from cancer. “We never said goodbye,” she said, “because we never gave up hope.”

Every presenter was inspiring, from the experts talking about how mobile technology will help us reach, communicate with and treat more patients to the artists whose talents expressed truths about the human condition.

The dance troupe that translates how cells move within the body into physical movement to aid researchers. The tap-dancing duo who helped us understand how our brains experience sound. The opera singer who has had two double lung transplants, but never stopped singing even though she had to learn how to breathe all over again.

Tomorrow’s the last day of TEDMED, and I’m going to miss being with this remarkable community. I’m sure I’ll be processing everything I’ve learned for weeks and months to come. But there are two things I’m sure of.

Opportunities for transformation are always in front of us, whether we seek them or not. And, no matter what, we should always hold on to hope.

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Learn more about the TEDMED 2013 presenters and their work here.

As I wrote in my last post, I knew this would be an adventure of open-minded imagination. But I didn’t expect the first presenter to articulate it so clearly — or creatively.

I’d never heard of Kishi Bashi before. I’ll never forget him now.

Ignore, for the moment, that I fell instantly in love with his music. He’s a singer and multi-instrumentalist with heart and humor.

But it’s something he said that really struck me: “This moment, this meeting.” He was reminding us to stay present in the moment, something artists do whenever they create. It’s just as powerful if you’re working in medicine, science, education, communications or public policy. It’s a powerful part of living life to the fullest no matter what.

I had the good fortune to hear Surgeon General Regina Benjamin talk about bringing the joy back into being healthy. I got to listen as Rafael Yuste of Columbia University spoke about his dream of climbing to the summit of medical science: mapping the human brain, as he will do with the BRAIN Initiative.

There was so much more, but one of the most inspiring voices of the night was America Bracho, Executive Director of Latino Health Access, who promotes wellness by getting volunteers engaged in working for the health of their own community alongside professionals.

“Tell the story of hope,” she said. She wants us to tell the story of how the health of poor communities can be transformed by encouraging people to get involved.

Before coming to TEDMED, we were asked what one word best describes what drives us to innovate.

My one word? Hope.

After the opening session of TEDMED, I certainly have high hopes for the days ahead. And I’ll savor every moment as it comes.

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UPDATE: After re-watching Kishi Bashi’s presentation, I realize his actual quote was “One moment, one meeting.” But his message of being in the moment — each moment — made its impact just the same.

I couldn’t be happier about that.

Of course, I know the tangible details of what TEDMED is all about. It’s is a multi-disciplinary gathering of people eager to share ideas, innovation and inspiration that can create a better future for health and medicine.

I’m thrilled to have been chosen as a delegate for TEDMED this year, joining attendees from across multiple fields — healthcare, science, technology, music, art, education, communication … you name it. I’ll also be part of TEDMED’s first-ever Great Challenges Day, where small groups of delegates work together using storytelling to help clarify and communicate some of today’s most complex issues in health and medicine.

Part me of wants to learn as much as I can about everything and everyone involved before I get there. The other part of me wants to put down my iPad and stop trying to absorb it all. (Especially at night, because the dizzying thought of the whole thing makes me too excited to sleep.)

Instead, maybe I should just clear my mind and immerse myself in the experience, letting it wash over me as it comes.

Don’t get me wrong. I want to be prepared. I want to make sure I don’t miss a thing, and there’s a lot to take in. But I think there’s a reason every day of the conference starts with the option of running, yoga or meditation. It’s a chance to invigorate our bodies and spirits before we begin. Exercise and meditation always clear my head; they help me see things I might otherwise overlook and prepare me to experience things in a different way.

Which, when you come right down to it, is the essence of TEDMED. We’re there to learn, of course, from the impressive lineup of presenters. But equally important, we’re there to create new connections that can spark innovation, to contribute what’s unique about each of us to the larger goal of uncovering new ways of seeing health and medicine — and the world around us.

Each of us will bring our knowledge, our curiosity and our dreams for what’s possible to TEDMED. The event will be organic, shaped by everyone who’s there. Which means there’s really no way to know what to expect.

I do know this: TEDMED will be a great adventure. So I plan to experience every moment as it unfolds, with a heart and mind open to the infinite potential in each of us. Because when we do that, great things can happen.

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Photo: Sue Austin, a performance audience and presenter at TEDMED 2013, “aims to find dramatic and powerful ways to reveal the ‘Hidden Secret’ of disability.”

It symbolizes the hope of second chances, of fresh starts, of forgiveness. It celebrates the eternal in each of us — the difference we make in this world through our deeds, our actions, our spirit, the unique gifts each of us have to share.

Easter is inextricably connected to spring. Even if the buds are only just starting to peep out, we know they’re coming. The world is waking up from winter, ready to bloom again. Ready for what’s next.

To me, Easter is a time to reflect on new beginnings, on second chances, on fresh starts. What will blossom in the months ahead remains to be seen, but it’s coming.

I believe that trusting in the future is the pinnacle of hope.

To all who celebrate, Happy Easter. To everyone, Happy Spring.

I’ve been following #Michipreneur from day one. They provide great coverage on the many innovative things happening in Michigan, plus inspiration and tips for thriving in whatever you do.

Because I’ve been too busy to post to my own blog lately, sharing my guest post below counts, right?

Reinvention for Entrepreneurs: Or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love the Journey

I’ll continue following #Michipreneur and hope you will, too.

Here’s one thing they agreed on, though, and it’s the principle that’s really stuck with me: You don’t vote for the party. You vote for the candidate whose values you support. You vote for whoever you think is the best person for the job.

This hasn’t only informed my voting decisions. It’s shaped my view of how our government works, about how our leaders should work together, about what’s possible when people put aside their differences and work for the common good.

My parents visiting Washington, D.C., on their honeymoon.

When you get right down to it, marriages and politics aren’t really all that different. There are negotiations. There are disagreements. There are good times and bad. There are issues where you’ll find common ground and others that will be a point of contention. There are days when you won’t even feel like speaking to each other and other days when your unity is the only thing that matters. In the end, though, a good marriage remains strong because for all the arguments or conflicts or grievances, you’re part of something bigger. The common good — the love you share, the vows you’ve taken, the family you’ve created — is more important than who left the cap off the toothpaste.

I firmly believe the same is true in politics. I think most people who run for office do it because they want to make a commitment to something bigger than themselves: their community, their country, their corner of the world. They want to serve with others who believe that our world can be a better place when we work together instead of against each other.

This is why I believe in the power of bipartisanship. Our country has been divided at times, as it certainly is today, but it has always managed to come back together. Good people have put country before party and worked together to create compromise, to solve problems and find solutions that unite us and make us stronger as a result.

We have a lot of work to do, it’s true. And it begins with each of us, with the desire to put petty partisanship aside and remember that we are stronger together. We have to be willing to accept each other’s differences, to live and let live in a country where everyone has the freedom to choose their destiny.

If every single citizen agreed to stop fighting about ideological differences and searched for common ground, that groundswell could eventually reach our leaders. We can tell them how we feel by writing letters, making phone calls or gathering peacefully outside their offices. We can tell them how we feel with our votes, by electing people who will work together instead of against each other.

It starts with each of us. My parents taught me that you don’t always have to agree to love each other or work as a team. Disagreements can be part of eventually reaching a compromise. You can have strong convictions and you don’t have to give them up. But sometimes, you have to concede just a bit. You can hold fast to your personal beliefs without imposing them on others.

If our leaders truly love our country — which should be the only reason they run for office in the first place — then they should put it ahead of everything else, and work together to find solutions that make our country stronger.

Because if we don’t move forward together, we’ll never get anywhere.

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I wrote this as I prepared to attend the Meeting to Make America Work! hosted by No Labels, an organization founded to foster bipartisan problem-solving in Washington. 

It’s about my friend Nina, who is like a patron saint of stray animals (and people). Over the years, she’s taken in countless cats and found homes for many others. Once she rescued a turtle that was stuck on its back by the side of a road.

Most recently, Nina discovered a cat hiding under her deck. The weather was still fairly warm, so Nina set her up with food, a cat carrier and a blanket. But when the temperature plummeted, Nina brought the cat into her house.

This grateful little angel immediately snuggled in, untroubled by the displeasure of the resident cats, contented to find a warm home and a warm lap.

While Nina was trying to choose the right name for this unabashedly affectionate cat, she saw the father of Emilie Parker, one of the 20 children who died at Sandy Hook Elementary School, talking about how sweet his daughter was. That’s when Nina named the cat Emilie Parker.

Here’s the part of the story I love best: Every time Nina picks up Emilie, she says a prayer for the victims in Newtown. But Nina doesn’t just pray for the 26 people who were shot and killed in that school. Nina also prays for the shooter and his mother, something many people have not been able to do. I admit, I’ve struggled with it, too.

But, as Nina said simply, “They’re victims, too.”

She’s right. Nancy Lanza was the victim of true horror: being killed by your own child. Her son was the victim of the demons in his mind, of not getting whatever help he needed that might have prevented this tragedy.

I’m not saying it’s right that Nancy Lanza had an arsenal of deadly weapons. I’m not saying there’s any excuse for the actions of her son. But by praying for those who lost their lives and their loved ones — all of them — Nina exemplifies the true nature of forgiveness.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean we ever forget the tragedy. It doesn’t mean we don’t do everything possible to fix the broken system that allows people to obtain assault weapons more easily than they can get mental health care services.

But without forgiveness, we can never heal. I wouldn’t ever presume to tell the people of Newtown how to work through their grief and anger, how to move forward with their lives, how to find peace, or even that they must forgive.

All I know is this: When we forgive, we let go of pain and make more room in our hearts for love.

Someday, Nina’s other cats will forgive her for bringing home Emilie Parker. If you’ve ever known the wrath of a jealous cat, you know that means there’s hope for us all.