Wow, just wow. As a general rule, I consider myself a humble person but yes, even I have an ego and MAN, did my ego get a slap today. I was working on my social media posting plan. Something I have reworked and revamped a million times over the years. Specifically, I was considering posting something in my Substack that I had already shared on LinkedIn and Facebook. I worried it would be repetative. SLAP!! WHO AM I TO ASSUME EVERYONE FOLLOWS ME EVERYWHERE?! How am I to ASSUME that LinkedIn followers who love me SOOOO much also follow me on Facebook? (Hint: That was sarcasm.) This stung even more because I KNOW my Facebook followers love the personal stuff, LinkedIn loves the business stuff, Substack are fellow authors and my Skool community are people actively building relationships. And some posts fit in all categories. Have no fear, my ego is sufficiently chastised. I am off ... to share in Substack. Hope this helped you! Sandi

In my humble opinion, the words of an amazing and wise leader resonate long after they are gone, even if all they ever lead was their own family. I know this to be true, as I take a deep breath and acknowledge the date - September 28, 2025, 20 years since the passing of my amazing mother. Yet, she walks with me every day. She comes with me to every event. She is the inspiration behind every post. She is my driving force. She is my example of just how strong and happy an Indigenous person can be, when bridges are truly built. Because, you see, my father wasn't Indigenous. But he was the perfect ally. He held and even built space for my mom to be exactly who she was. He didn't doubt her strength and resilience to get us through tough times. He counted on it. And she counted on him. In that good soil, my mom flourished. Nothing she did in that home was done without laughter. Everything from cooking to doing dishes, washing floors to making an incredible Christmas dinner was done with laughter and love. Because she knew she was safe. She knew she was loved. She knew she was valued. She knew she was needed. Yet, I sigh as I acknowledge that so many Indigenous people (including myself, at times) do not know such good soil ... yet. And that is my mission, that is my purpose, to create good soil for all who exist and live and love within Canadian borders. A mission inspired by a woman with a grade four education that had a smile that lit up even the darkest corners. Twenty years has not minimized her impact. Rather, the twenty years highlight that her teachings and examples are just as resilient as she was. The journey and the work continues. Mom, I miss you more than anyone could ever know. Twenty years hasn't minimized that fact either. (And please, to those reading these words, no platitudes. No "She is in a better place." No, "You were lucky to have her." Be like my Dad. Just sit in this moment with me. Type that you hear me and nothing more. That is the first step to creating good soil - being able to sit in the moments of grief and pain without minimizing it, discarding it, or excusing it. A'ho.)