Cuppa Joy

What helps a child survive life’s hardest seasons? A story about orphan trains led me down an unexpected path—through the childhood experiences of my grandparents, the beloved pages of Anne of Green Gables, and memories of my own family.

As artificial intelligence grows smarter, what will help us remain deeply human? Artificial intelligence is everywhere these days—sparking excitement in some people and fear in others. In this week’s Cuppa Joy, I reflect on my own surprising journey with A.I.—from learning WordPress and podcasting to troubleshooting technology and even keeping my fishpond healthy.

Even when life upends everything we’ve planned and hoped for, one freedom still remains—the freedom to choose our response. This week’s Cuppa Joy explores the layered concept of choice—not simple choices like chocolate or vanilla, but the deeper choices we face when life upends our plans and leaves us confronting circumstances we never would have chosen for ourselves. Inspired by the life and work of Holocaust survivor and psychologist Dr. Edith Eva Eger, along with the writings of Viktor Frankl, this episode reminds us of our power to choose our response even in life’s hardest moments.

What if one of the greatest gifts a teacher gives isn’t knowledge, but words that shape a child’s heart for a lifetime? This week, I’ve been thinking about teachers—not just what they teach, but what they leave behind. A kind word. A moment of understanding. The courage to stand up for someone else. The reminder that our words matter.

There’s a subtle message most of us have absorbed about aging—that after a certain point (no one can say exactly when) it’s all a downhill slide. But what if that’s not the whole story? Maybe it’s not just wine that gets better with age. In this episode, I explore a new concept called “joyspan,” the depth and duration of joy we experience across our lives, and what it might look like to focus not just on how long we live, but how joyfully we live.

We often think of art as something we visit—paintings on walls, music in concert halls. But what if art is something we live… something that helps us heal? In this episode, I explore the healing power of art—far beyond museums and galleries. From programs in prisons to journaling in classrooms, creativity helps people express emotion, discover meaning, and reconnect with themselves. Our narrow definitions of art—and the ways we measure intelligence—can lead many creative people to overlook their own gifts.

What happens when we turn our attention from despair to hope? In the midst of grief, I experienced a moment that has stayed with me ever since—a reminder to pay attention to the beauty all around us, even when life feels overwhelming. In this episode, I reflect on that moment, on the changes happening across our planet, and on the people who are choosing to care—from one man planting a forest in India to efforts to restore ancient trees in the heart of Detroit. It’s an invitation to notice what is right in front of us, to shift from despair to hope.

We never know what invitations and challenges life will bring us or how they might change us. In this episode, I share the story of Grandma Gatewood, who walked the Appalachian Trail alone at 67, and a journey of my own that began with a simple question—what if I said yes? It’s a reflection on resilience, becoming, and the quiet strength we discover when we keep going.

Sometimes the smallest things we offer—a smile, a kind word, a moment of care—travel farther than we will ever know. Blending story, science, and lived experience, this is a gentle reminder that we are not alone in the work of making the world better—one smile at a time. A warm reflection on the unseen impact of what we give—and a gentle invitation to keep on smiling.

Spring has a way of arriving with a little bit of everything—Easter, Passover, Spring Break, and the return of baseball season. In this episode of Cuppa Joy, I reflect on shifting holidays, Little League days, and hot bleachers, and how quickly the seasons of our lives change. It’s a gentle reflection on time, memory, and the way spring returns each year, carrying pieces of our lives back to us.