Connecting the Dots

I came across this message on Instagram on a wonderful tai chi account I follow, @regenerationtaichi with Jamie Alonge. I have held on to this kind of message for years. It’s never not relevant. While the sources, syntax, and wording appear different the underlying message is consistent, steady, and true. Since all is fleeting and impermanent, when whatever joyful, calm, and balanced moment will inevitably pass, I will again turn back to this knowing. Pain has purpose. Confusion leads to clarity. Feeling disempowered invites us to regain our power. Breakdowns lead to breakthroughs. There is no way to be a human being without experiencing massive emotional wounding, as is stated in the first line. In Buddhism the first of the four noble truths is that life inherently contains pain and suffering. There is nothing wrong with you nor did you invite your hurt into your life. No, you don’t deserve it. You are not being punished. You are just human and hurt (a lot of it) is part of the deal. It’s certainly not personal. Everyone goes through it. 
One of the things I have learned is that just like hurting is normal and natural, so is healing. Tremendous healing. We are intrinsically designed for it on every level; physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Faith and trust amidst deep pain and confusion has really helped me get through dark times. Knowing I am being guided through the scary tunnel, without knowing what the other side looks like, has helped anchor me when I’m feeling unmoored. When I’m feeling betrayed and turned away from by humans, I remind myself that God/the dharma/the Universe/Source has my back and my heart at all times. I feel my nervous system open up, even a little, when I remind myself of this truth. I have seen clearly throughout my trajectory all the times the shit show du jour was not just inviting me to evolve, but demanding it. We often get the same lessons and themes taught to us in different packaging until we push through and shed old conditioning. I damn well know what my lessons have been and continue to be. I bet you know yours too. It’s really interesting what themes keep popping up that require our attention. Know that Source believes in you. You were made for great things. Shedding skins is a necessary part of the path. We are an extension of nature and so we have seasons. 
I hope these words resonate with you and remind you that the story is much bigger than what’s going on right now. Honor your feelings in this moment while knowing your whole life is an ocean and this moment is just a wave. A yoga teacher once told our class, “I promise you that you are being taken care of”. This changed my life at a time I had never heard anything like this before. But it deeply felt right and I believe that to this day. 

**as a spelling and grammar nut I must point out that “sole” is glaringly misspelled (oof). It’s obviously meant to be “soul”. See? Even wisdom has its bumps. 

Air Quality

This week was literally wild. Raging wildfires in Canada that destroyed at least 800 million acres of land (much belonging to indigenous peoples) found its way over here, atmospherically. New York air quality was deemed the worst in the world for a couple days. That is a staggering and frightening assessment. Pictures saturated the internet with our air photographing as fully orange. New York everyday pollution mixed with the residue from the wildfires (in another country!!) was scary and dangerous to breathe in. Masks reappeared on the streets and many stayed home. It was absolutely reminiscent of Covid. Breathing, every living creature’s natural born right, was unsafe. My 13 year old son immediately felt something was wrong as we left the house early on Tuesday morning. What I dismissed as an overcast sky was indeed a huge natural disaster. My son googled and confirmed the Canadian fires. I was amazed that he knew right away, at his ability to feel beyond what we could see. That natural intuition is such a guide. It connects us to nature in a way that the mind doesn’t catch up to. This led us to a discussion about how we are so deeply interconnected and affected by one another. I told him that if a tsunami happens in one part of the world, then all the oceans are affected. This is both daunting and uplifting to me at once. The responsibility we have towards each other and towards our earth is tremendous. Our actions never stay in our own atmosphere. What we do, say, and think will be breathed in by others. Our energy is felt by everyone around us, even by beings not just directly in our midst. If my fires are raging inside me, I guarantee you’d feel it and it likely would not feel safe or healthy. Humans have the capacity to burn each other down with word and deed. We are never acting alone. We often take each other for granted, just like we take fresh air for granted (I know I certainly did before this happened). 
So what is the quality we are cultivating in our individual atmospheres, that in turn affect those sharing our air space? What choices am I making for what I breathe in and therefore breathe out? What we inhale and take in is a very big deal. Each breath is an opportunity to either improve the health of our atmospheres or detract from it. Even periods of sustaining our health requires more healthy intakes. We can only maintain the quality of our inner landscape by watering and fertilizing it with beneficial choices. What am I reading, scrolling, eating, thinking, saying, doing, how am I reacting? What is the quality of my relationships? How am I spending my time?What repeating thought patterns are harmful to both myself and others? What pervasive emotions are taking up too much space? Where am I procrastinating in my life/not appreciating myself/getting stuck? What am I inhaling that blocks my own flow? These are such important questions. We ingest so much detrimental crap without ever realizing it. This week was a gift in that way. It was a shot of perspective about atmospheric health, and how it must not be taken for granted. I was struck not just with how clean air is a gift, but that so is each moment to moment opportunity to breathe in every sense, literally and metaphorically. 
We were understandably freaked out over here and focused on our own impact, rightfully so. It was scary to breathe. After I came out of my bubble of self absorption I thought about the homeless, the animals, the flowers, the plants, and all beings in nature who had nowhere to seek refuge from the unhealthy atmosphere. I thanked god for a house where my family and I could remain safe, that we could protect our lungs and bodies. Many are not as fortunate in this way, and it was heartbreaking to think about it. More heartbreaking not to though; since we are completely interconnected when we lose sight of that, things go awry. We don’t function healthily in any form of separation. To hold each other through pain and sorrow, as well as joy and celebration, is nature. 
I spoke about this topic at the nursing home where I’m a chaplain intern. The seniors deeply responded to the questions around atmospheric health and wellness. Even many folks in their 90’s never learned that they have the power over what they breathe in. Most go their whole lives without understanding their own power of agency and choice. No one told them otherwise. It’s certainly a new concept for me as well. 
Let’s take care of ourselves and each other one good decision at a time, however small. Let’s create inner atmospheres of well being that support us and those around us. We are all sharing air space. What a blessing to contribute to the health of all beings. What we take in is what we will put back out. Our choices determine the quality of our air and our lives, which as I’m writing this seems like the exact same thing. To breathe is to live. To cease to breathe is to die. Each breath is so precious. 
Wishing our friends in Canada much healing and regrowing.

Jewish Matchmaking

Ok, so I haven’t yet watched this new series on Netflix yet. I have heard from both Jewish and non Jewish friends alike that it’s a good watch. I do like the host, Aleeza Ben Shalom, who is the religious Jewish matchmaker. I’ve seen clips on Instagram and I find her really likable with great, sincere energy. Plus, I think it’s great that an orthodox and observant woman has her own popular show on Netflix! However, she is known for a catchphrase that I think is one of the worst pieces of dating advice: “date em till you hate em”. Having been in the post divorce dating pool for 6 years now, I find this advice to be unhealthy, reckless, and counterintuitive. What I mean by the latter is that continuing to date someone you don’t like or don’t have good instincts about for whatever reason (the person could be perfectly lovely just not for you) is teaching you to override your own intuition. This is what I also mean by reckless. No one should ever advise anyone to overstep their own intuition. I don’t know about you but I am just now learning to honor and respect my own intuition. The last thing I need is for anyone to instruct me to abandon my gut instincts for the sake of a date with someone I low key dislike. Dating is a very vulnerable and raw endeavor, and honoring and honing our dating instincts is a muscle that must be continuously flexed. It’s a practice that slowly builds the most important dating skills: self trust and self respect. I don’t feel I’m respecting myself if I’m going on a date with someone I’m genuinely not interested in. There are many other things I could be doing with my precious time and energy, and my time and energy are extremely valuable and not to be wasted (I do enough of that by scrolling on my damn phone). Speaking of which, I have long reached the point in my life where I don’t agree with “it’s just a date”. No, it’s not. It’s me putting effort into getting dolled up, shlepping to meet someone that doesn’t necessarily excite me, leaving my kids for a few hours, not doing things that are important to me, etc. Point being, if I’m going to go out I need to feel baseline optimism and possibility about the other person. It’s not just a date; it’s my time, energy, effort, and resources. Singles, I encourage you to hold these as if you are holding a precious jewel. Follow your gut. Use discernment unapologetically. Practice this life skill and build up self trust. It’s an invaluable investment that no one can make stronger but you. You are worth good, cautious, loving judgment. 
Back to Aleeza’s advice. First of all, I’m not looking to hate anyone. Aren’t I going through the dating process to find love? Both I and the world certainly don’t need to find ways to add more hatred and separation into the mix. I’m not even in the market to dislike someone, let alone hate them. Why put either of us through that? It’s like when someone tells me beer and liquor are an acquired taste. I have never understood why I would put myself through that to drink something I simply don’t enjoy. If it doesn’t add value I don’t need to force myself. Another problem I have with this dating mantra is that it recklessly teaches low standards. Unless you hate someone and are totally grossed out by them, keep seeing them! Is that the new bar? Mild tolerance? If my lack of interest doesn’t yet translate to utter aversion, then I’ll see you at 8. No thanks. I agree that we have to sometimes give people more chances. Canceling the suitor too quickly can often be rash, rigid, a form of insecurity, unrealistic in expectations, or a form of control. It’s of course a case by case basis, and only you know why you do or don’t want to go out again. But what I have learned is that if I want to go out again there has to be something, however small, that’s piquing my genuine interest. When I first began dating I was happy to have any excuse to get my hair done, wear a pretty outfit, and feel like a lady. You can guess how those dates turned out by virtue of the fact that I’m writing this article. I’d come home disappointed and annoyed that I wasted a good blowout. I long ago graduated from that stage, and it was necessary in my learning curve. It took me years to treat myself and my time with the dignity and respect I deserve. I needed to practice good judgment, discernment, and intuition. It was a skill I’d never been modeled or taught. It was a tough and necessary part of my journey in being able to rewrite my story. 
I vividly recall what a mess I was when I entered dating post divorce. By that I mean I had zero emotional intelligence and romantic maturity. This is a very specific skill set that takes years of learning, research, and practice. I got married when I was 20 and simply did not have the relational awareness that healthy dating requires. I was in dire need of attention, had years of codependency to excavate (though I didn’t know it until years later), and was optimistic to a fault. My lens was clouded with raw need. Had someone told me to date until I hate, that would have actually been harmful. It’s putting both parties through a bizarre process that’s neither honest nor authentic. Or respectful. I’d be mortified if a man said about me, “I’m not interested in her but I don’t hate her yet so I’ll ask her out again”. Ewwwwwww, right? We must date with integrity which means considering the other person’s feelings too. Treating myself with integrity means I’ll treat the other as such. 
Dating is many things, like life: exciting, mysterious, disappointing, heartbreaking, confusing, fun, ridiculous, and exhausting at times. It takes stamina and resolve to keep putting ourselves out there. I believe we drain ourselves of our precious energetic resources when we walk into situations we don’t want to be in. Knowing how to purposefully recharge my own batteries by saying no, helps me have clarity and confidence to say yes when it feels right. 
Dear Daters, take the advice of others with a grain of salt, including mine. Heed what wisdom feels right to you and move away from the rest. You have the capacity to know yourself better than anyone, build that up by making one sound decision at a time. Gentle baby steps. Hold yourself. Learn how precious you are. Believe in your ability to navigate dating and life. It will be hard, sure, but not as hard as being in the wrong relationship out of the fear of being alone. I want a great love story. Not everyone does, and that’s ok. Some are content with companionship. We all operate differently which is why blanket advice usually doesn’t work. This is an exercise in following your own heart and refusing to settle for less than It’s deepest wish. God made you for great things. That, to me, is the essence of Jewish matchmaking as an ideal. 

**Aleeza, you are so fantastic and I can’t wait to watch you help people find love. What a gift to be able to contribute to the world in this way.

French Toast Feedback

So today on this Mother’s Day I felt ready to try something new with my kids. Over brunch at one of our favorite NYC spots, I did my usual thing in which we go around the table and say loving, appreciative things about the guest of honor. That has become a time honored family tradition that we all look forward to. This year I added a twist that took all of us, including me, by surprise. I asked each of my 4 kids to share with me something they’d like me to work on/improve upon as a mother. This was a risk and I admit to having felt a bit trepidatious. I had no idea what they’d say but it felt like a really important question. They were floored. After they absorbed my request for feedback over French toast, both my girls said they were very impressed. I explained that if motherhood is about caring for other beings (that pass through our bodies), then such feedback will help me do a better job at that. I was actually very proud of myself; this is an uncomfortable exercise. I asked that they share their critiques (which is different than criticism) in a kind and skillful way. It is Mother’s Day after all and I’m not a masochist. They were indeed careful and respectful which I really appreciated.
I learned to communicate this way from my zen teacher, Sensei Dr Kōshin Paley Ellison, at the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. Zen Buddhism is about being in relationship. How we function in relationship to ourselves, to others, to each moment, to animals, to the earth, to actions, to thoughts, to feelings, to breathing. To literally everything. This directly impacts and determines the quality and purpose of our lives. There are various schools of Buddhism and I was dropped into this particular lineage, which is Soto Zen. It was clearly what I needed since the universe placed me there in 2019.
Motherhood isn’t about having children; it’s about being in relationship to our children. How we care for that relationship is everything. Mothers are human and we (I) will make tons of mistakes. I shudder when I think about certain ones I have made. It makes me sick. In zen we say fall down 7 times and get up 8. No shame just acknowledge, be accountable, and do better next time. Shame is a waste of time but healthy embarrassment is constructive. Our relationship with our kids is alive. It breathes, grows, and changes just like all parties in the relationship do. Through my learnings I have realized that in order to be in relationship in a healthy way that enables me to fully give proper care, I need to be attuned and tweak and adjust as I go along. This requires humility and a strong enough center to receive and act on feedback. I think it was the humility that partly had my kids stunned as we passed around the popovers. Parents are so often authoritarian because we have to be. We are in charge so there’s an automatic hierarchy of power. This is natural. It’s an important balance to maintain authority and also allow for our children to have their own reality and voice. Lord knows how feeling voiceless when I was a kid traumatized me. I’m only learning now (again, through my teacher’s specific approach to Buddhist psychology since he is also a psychoanalyst) how deeply and painfully that impacted me and followed me into adulthood. It affected everything and I’m still untangling. It’s a crucial part of any healing process to apply the learnings of our own needs to the needs of others. If I felt voiceless in my family of origin, then part of the healing is to give my kids a different experience. Again, I will mess up big time but if the willingness is there to admit to that and then sincerely reroute, then that alone is steering all our ships in a healthier direction.
It was clear that each of my children really appreciated my asking for how I could improve as a mother. I appreciated my boldness and sincerity as well. Honesty is not for the weak. It takes courage. And guess what? While they each gave me excellent critiques it wasn’t nearly as scary as what the frightened part of my brain (reptilian survival brain) predicted. It was all completely valid. They deserved to be heard and I deserved to know. I cannot tweak what I’m unaware of. They can’t be heard if they’re not invited to share. Honesty and healthy critique, which zen teaches, is a great kindness. It’s how we help each other do better. Silence and fear based codependent stifling is unkind to all parties. Without honesty we stay stuck in these stale, unhealthy lifelong relational dynamics. Good and loving feedback is a gift.
I feel good that on this Mother’s Day I was strong enough to genuinely ask this. It’s a first for me. I’d definitely have been too fragile to ask prior. It has taken me time to rebuild my center, and that center is the place from which all my relationships stem from. Growth is always available if we put in the time to care for ourselves. Mothers are the soil and our offspring grow directly from us and our own capacity to nourish them. Life only grows and flourishes from nutrient rich earth. To not nourish ourselves is harmful to both ourselves and others. I also felt so much pride in my kids’s responses and their appreciation and understanding of the assignment. Feeling heard is a gift. Honesty is a gift. What they each shared was extremely helpful.
As I received the adorable and heartfelt presents they each got me to celebrate me on Mother’s Day, I felt very much in relationship to these 4 beings in a healthy, loving, and open way. Intimacy was deepened, and that is always the goal. There’s no time for anything else. I want to add this tradition to our repertoire. It instinctively felt right and important. They deserve a mother who really wants to know. Motherhood isn’t about my ego; it’s a soul’s calling and the soul wants nothing other than to love, connect, and offer care.
May all mothers be brave and loving to the fullest extent. May we be strong enough to listen and give our kindest attention to what’s needed.

Irreplaceable

I am super freaked out by those new robotic K9 police dogs that made their debut in New York recently. First of all, have you seen them?? They give off major Headless Horseman vibes and look like a failed experiment in Jurassic Park, to say the least. They are creepy AF. I admit to having done no research on these robots and I have a ton of questions about how this will be safe and effective. I was always very moved hearing stories about policemen and their actual dogs. It seems to me that in such a difficult and dangerous line of work, an emotional connection between human and animal is vital for the well being of the officer. Will a robot whimper if their partner is shot? Will the robot know how to instinctively feel (FEEL!!!) if their human is in danger and pounce? This makes me sad and angry; real, living, emotional connections continue to be replaced by manufactured, unnatural, soulless enterprises. I assume these changes are largely financially motivated which obviously makes this even more disheartening and scary.
This past week it was announced that Bed Bath and Beyond, one of my favorite stores, is closing due to going out of business. Like so many other businesses both small and large that have been destroyed by online shopping, BBB, an institution, will soon be a memory. So too with hundreds of Walmarts. And have you heard of Flippy? It’s a burger flipping robot used by White Castle to cook. The first Flippy debuted in Indiana and was deemed successful. Now the fast food chain will be expanding into a fleet of robotic short order cooks. With so many living, breathing beings being replaced by machines, how is unemployment not going to skyrocket? To what extent does “efficiency” take presidency over actual people? I know this is an old question but I have been super alarmed by all of this lately. People are losing their jobs like dominoes in favor of machinery. In addition to the multitude of issues this raises, on a deeper level it sends a clear and traumatic message: we are replaceable. We don’t matter enough to have staying power. We are no longer needed. I feel trapped in a world where emotional human responses to these types of changes, which are often of a devastating nature, are unheard, unanswered, and ignored. They are simply not convenient because they get in the way of “the future”. Furthermore, there is shaming involved in said devastating responses; one who protests is considered to be stuck in the past, out of touch, and old.
Having grown up in a highly conditional and ultra competitive family of origin where outward appearance was law, there was always a covert message that lest I deliver/behave in a certain way then I’d be replaced. Not in the literal sense but through criticism and withdrawals of kindness and affection. I had to work hard to feel I mattered. This was achieved through approval which required me to bang my head against a wall trying to figure out how to get my doggie treat. It was deeply confusing and painful. I became an expert. This was a pattern that naturally followed me into adulthood until I became aware of it (which was devastating and caused tremendous grief). I was once in a relationship where I was actually told that I was replaceable. On the list of highly traumatizing words a person can ever hear, “replaceable” is up there. We only replace what no longer means anything to us. Things we no longer need. Old clothes, a broken tv, an actual supermarket, a phone call, the list is endless. But each thing we discard contains the same message: I no longer have use for you. The conversation around robotic replacement is so much greater than economics, AI, and the future. It’s way bigger than Silicon Valley churning out ideas “to make the world a better place”. Not only will unemployment skyrocket but so will depression. Sending the message to living beings that they don’t matter anymore will have massive emotional ramifications. I don’t believe the collective psyche will be able to withstand it. My heart breaks for everyone who is at the mercy of these insane changes, as well as for the people implementing them; imagine going to work to create ways to cut real living, breathing creatures out of the picture. It’s unhealthy and bad for the soul. It’s a stampede on the heartbeat of the collective, a chokehold on life. There’s such a cold apathy to all of it that frightens me. It will lead to great suffering.
Let this serve as a reminder that we must remember our nature which is to connect. It is the soul’s very purpose, which is why it hurts so much when we neglect it and forget. Human connection and care is irreplaceable. You are irreplaceable no matter what messages may be out there to the contrary. Eye contact, reduced screen time, physical touch, conversation with a stranger, connecting with nature, dancing, preparing a meal, or taking a simple walk and smiling at others seem so simple but contain tremendous opportunities to feel connection. We die without connection on every level. It’s essential for our survival in every sense. We can’t control these changes happening in the world. We are living in dark times. The medicine of connection is desperately needed and is available in endless ordinary ways. And finding the extraordinary amidst the ordinary is a miracle that will never be replaced.

Timeless Wisdom

Last week I made a list of advice I don’t want to wait to follow. So often we only heed and give advice at the end of our lives. Why wait?? This week my senior friends and I at the nursing home (where I serve as a chaplain intern) discussed this idea. I grabbed the precious opportunity to collect advice from them. We are going to put it on a poster and hang it up. As is life, our list is a work in progress. The seniors loved this concept and were engaged participants. It was wonderful to watch them  tap into their own treasure troves of inner knowledge. We all know way more than we give ourselves credit for! This is one of the most miraculous parts of spiritual friendship; we help and support each other on life’s path of endless learning. No one has all the answers but everyone has all the questions. Sharing and receiving pearls of wisdom is an essential act of grace and generosity. We so often give shitty, arrogant, unsolicited advice. Why not offer that which truly has value?
Here is the list the seniors have complied thus far:

It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.
*in Buddhism this is known as right speech. Weighing our words, the purpose of them, the value they contribute or don’t, are they coming from ego or spirit. Right speech is extremely effective and karmically sound. Each word and action plants a seed for nourishment or separation.

Pick up litter, even if it’s not ours. None of us want garbage tossed on us like we don’t matter. The earth has feelings and does everything for us.

The golden rule: treat others as we want to be treated. So obvious yet so often ignored!

Be kind to your neighbor. Kindness goes such a long way, even in the smallest gestures. It shows people they matter.

Remember the oppressed: creatures, animals, human beings. We can’t save or help everyone, even most beings. But we must think about them, be aware of their suffering, and send them healing in the ways we can. We are all interconnected. Prayers and energy travel.

Treat your body as your friend. It’s the home for the soul.

Honor your parents and ancestors. We wouldn’t be here without them.

Life is to be enjoyed not endured (this was a favorite!)

Choose and chase joy. Even when it’s hard. Even in seemingly small ways.

Work on releasing grudges. Forgive ourselves when it doesn’t feel possible. Even the intention to do so is a loosening in the hard knot of a grudge.

Be Here Now. We only live right now in this moment. It’s always Now o’clock.

Allow life to surprise us. Don’t give up on miracles.

I’m so grateful to spend time regularly with my friends in this senior community. My time with them will soon be coming to a close. It’s been a beautiful 2 years serving in this space, and my advice to myself is to take what I have learned from them and integrate it, pay it forward, and apply it. Take it from the older generations; they have invaluable lived experience.

Don’t Wait

You know those Instagram posts where senior citizens give life advice to the rest of us? I love those; I love older people, their wisdom, and the instant shot of perspective that comes with many decades of life experience. We would do well to heed even part of their suggestions. They know what they’re talking about and are generous to share with us what they know to be true. And here’s the thing: these precious pieces of advice are so obvious, simple, and clear. Yet we often need to hear them from other sources and even more so, we agree with them but ignore them anyway. It’s so sad and curious when the resonance is so clear and we still look away for whatever the reason. Inner wisdom is often no match for habitual, subconscious behavior. It’s hard to not pay attention to wisdom coming from people who are in the final stages of life. They have learned valuable lessons and felt the sting of regret. They likely know how to spend the remainder of the precious, fading time they have left. They know there’s no more time to waste on foolishness in any direction.
And so I’ve been asking myself: what the hell am I waiting for to follow deeply sage advice?? Until I’m 90?? What is the point of stopping to read such advice and then continue on with all the useless bullshit that eats up my time, energy, focus, and my mental/emotional/spiritual resources?
So let’s make a list together. The thing with any list is that is just words on a page until we turn them into actions and choices. It’s enough sleepwalking through life, and we all do it in our own ways (and in many ways that are the same). This is purely an experimental template for us to keep considering. I’m in no position to offer a golden list of wisdom and perspective to anyone. As long as we are alive our lists can be too. We can adjust and tweak them as needed as we gain a better understanding of how we truly want to live our lives. What’s on your list of things that must wait no longer? What would you tell your younger self from where you’re currently standing? What do you imagine yourself in old age telling your current self? What advice have you been given that belongs on such a list? Whatever your answers, please see this an an invitation to do it now. The end of our lives are no more important than this very moment. It all matters and there’s really no time to waste. We’ve got one shot here in this particular time and space. Let’s go.

Remove oneself from genuinely toxic relationships. Leave with peace and wish the other party well from afar. Grudges only hurt ourselves and destroy us from the inside.

Know that we have choices in who gets access to us. Our lives are not a free for all.

We at all times either choose love or fear. Choose love every single time. Fear must never drive the bus.

Therapy is essential in clearing out what holds us back. It’s as important as any other doctor or specialist. We are worth the time, money, and effort it takes to clean up our lives. When we don’t we hurt ourselves and everyone around us.

No excuses, only accountability, apologies, and changed action.

Be consistent in helping those less fortunate, in ways that may not occur to us initially. Use our innate generosity to connect with whoever needs help. Don’t discriminate. We are all deserving of kindness and help.

Judgement of self and others is a waste of time. Shaming ourselves helps no one. Stop it.

Don’t obsess over 5 pounds.

Be on time. Be aware of how we affect others when we are late. Consider the impact of our behavior at all times. We are dominoes. 

Eye contact always. Always.

Way less time on devices. Devices don’t care about us, our people do. Life does and we ignore life when we are sucked in to screens.

Only spend time with people and things that are nourishing in some way. Life is to be enjoyed, not endured. Choose wisely.

Buy way less stuff.

Pay attention to what life is serving up in each moment: singing birds, blooming flowers, the surrounding colors of nature. We aren’t separate from any of it. It’s longing for our attention.

Learn about indigenous cultures and wisdom; they know how to be alive in ways lost to most of us.

Untangle any biases we hold. They are pointless. The world needs more unity, even in our thoughts.

Never litter. We wouldn’t want to be treated that way.

Chase joy, water it constantly.

Acknowledge everyone. People need to feel seen, even in a glance.

Remind ourselves constantly that the world is much bigger than our problems. Our problems aren’t unique and shouldn’t get nearly as much airtime as they do. Pain is a part of life. It’s not the headliner.

Spend time in nature daily.

Be more patient with everything and everyone. Patience feels better than getting tight and frustrated.

Dance. No skills required.

Develop a close relationship with the earth. It really is our home, that’s not kumbaya fluff.

Allow for deep affection and caring. Give and receive. Work through any discomfort around it, it’s worth it.

Learn, travel, read, explore. Use our senses to absorb the experience of actually being alive.

Contemplate the meaning of life and act in a way that honors it.

Develop a serious spiritual practice. It’s a constant companion. It helps with everything.

Be a source for good in the world. We are God’s vessels for this. The gym is important but it’s not while we are here.

Don’t invent problems before they arrive (they likely won’t in the ways we’ve predicted). The mind loves to go looking for trouble. Just be here now with direct experience.

Be less controlling and more trusting. Trust begins with self.

Express freely our love to our people. They need to know and we need to say it.

Allow for surprises, plot twists, and miracles. They can’t show up if we’ve chosen to shut them out.

Write thank you notes.

Make albums.

Do less. Be more.

Don’t give unsolicited advice. WAIT: why am I talking? Such an important question. Our opinions matter way less than we believe.

Connect with the force of breath that literally keeps us alive. It’s life force being pumped through us.

Live in a way that makes death ok, without regret. To be here fully is to exit gracefully.

Pay far less attention to our thoughts. They are just passing through. Don’t let them dictate quality of life.

Don’t wait to feel freedom. It’s how we were born, it’s how we die. It’s the in between space that gets caught in all the things that keep us from feeling free. Don’t get caught.  Babies don’t come in nets.

The Evolution Of A Divorcee On Passover

As I’m packing for my annual upcoming Passover trip, I’m reflecting on the shifts this particular holiday has taken since I got divorced 6 1/2 years ago. As you may have gathered by now, especially if you’ve been here for awhile, you know I’m a big reflector. It can take chutzpah to take inventory of life’s changes; it’s not always easy and pleasant to look at. However, I believe fervently that seriously and honestly reflecting is a key factor in growth and evolution. That has certainly been the case for me. How can we move onward and upward if we don’t know what the heck happened previously? Rewriting new chapters requires reviewing the ones that have already been written.
I love the Jewish holidays with all my heart. I always have. Passover is the longest one and the first one that marks Spring. It’s such a joyous holiday that celebrates freedom and renewal. Because Passover requires a special diet, it’s a common tradition for many Jews to pack up their families for almost 2 weeks and check into special Passover programs in hotels, where the food and synagogue services are all taken care of. I have celebrated this holiday in this way my entire life. I have been everywhere from the Catskills (the famous Grossingers Resort!!!!) to Israel to California to Arizona, with decades spent in Miami, where I’m going again this year. Miami for New York/Jersey Jews is our backyard, and there’s a comforting familiarity in going there. Recognizing the familiar spots in Miami has been grounding over the past few years in which my new Passover family model has radically changed. Miami has given me comfort amidst the occasional discomfort of new growing pains.
This is the only holiday thus far where my kids are with their dad, and it was initially very disorienting and sad for me to be alone. I had obviously never celebrated a holiday without my kids until I got divorced. I went from spending weeks packing up everyone’s holiday clothes, school projects, and the special things needed for the Seder to packing just for myself. It took me a few years to even figure out where to stay, and I admit to feeling adrift and homeless for the first few years. It was very hard to not spend both Seders with my kids, and it still is. I have gotten used to it and now enjoy that time with close friends who always welcome me with open arms, but I still feel strange not being with my children. I felt unmoored for a long time and still have moments where that particular uncomfortable feeling pops up. My kids and their dad go to Miami to be with family and so I have too, so that I can still see them. I sometimes feel like a visitor and not like their mother, an outsider to whatever plans they have going on. I’m thrilled they enjoy the holiday with their father, family and friends, but I feel sad when I feel like I’m an afterthought. I have tried various rooming accommodations as I worked to find my footing on Passover, staying in lonely Air BNB’s and random hotels. I swear, I was once in an apartment where I’m convinced pornography was being shot in the unit above me. Trust me, there weren’t enough ear plugs in the world… I tried… Before I got divorced, I never went in a car on a Jewish holiday. In this new divorced model, I had to get in a vehicle (something I was raised not to do out of observance for the sabbath and holidays) in order to be with my kids at least for the first Seder, which is a really important night. This was/is super uncomfortable but I felt, and still feel, it’s more important to be with my family than to not get into a car. Last year there were unvaccinated guests at the family Seder, and my doctor forbade me from attending due to my being immuno compromised because of ulcerative colitis. I had not been made aware of this until right before the holiday, and I was furious that I could not spend at least the first Seder with my children. It was the first time this happened and it was very frustrating, difficult, and jarring; I literally plan my entire trip around this. I felt unfairly edged out, unconsidered, and alone. Not having my feelings being taken into account is a massive trigger for me, and I was seething that basic, transparent covid etiquette was not adhered to ( fairly disclosing the presence of the unvaccinated out of regard for everyone’s health). But that was last year.

So here’s where I’m at now with all of this. As of last year, despite the Seder debacle, I began to finally feel grounded again in this holiday. The rhythm became more familiar. This came in fits and starts, learning from errors in judgment and decision making, with accepting the generosity and warmth of supportive friendships, with letting go of my stories about how this holiday had to look, and embracing a new reality. A reality in which I have this wonderful opportunity to have an actual vacation while knowing my kids are having a great time with their dad, who does a terrific job taking care of them. It’s an invitation for me to take a step back, not resist the circumstances, and have a fresh relationship with myself in the context of Passover. This means having a fresh relationship to Passover itself. I have learned to re root myself and still love the holiday despite the new shape it has taken. I have much to be deeply grateful for: Jewish liberation, openly celebrating the holiday with my best friends and family, a vacation on the beach, staying in a nice hotel with an ocean view, the chance to read, relax, and sit on my ass staring at the water, and a co parent who affords me peace of mind as far as the kids being safe and happy.
Like life in general and a divorced family itself, shapes will continue to shift. Reconfiguring and readjusting is often challenging and uncomfortable. My Buddhist practice supports me greatly in navigation of all changes, and the core teaching of impermanence is a comfort because it’s true. I can resist changes and invite more suffering upon myself, or I can learn resilience, adaptability, and how to keep finding ground when things seem unstable. To flow with the current ingredients of life is a skill I’m always cultivating and practicing. It’s a muscle that gets stronger with repetition, and it’s life’s challenges that drive us to practice and repeat. This is the essence of liberation, feeling spacious and easeful amidst the changing tides of circumstance. Because change they will.

Wishing us all a new season of using our direct experience to encourage and unlock inner freedom.

So Many Likes!

A few weeks ago one of my favorite comics, Jordan Jensen, posted a clip of her doing crowd work on IG. I loved the bit and made a comment, as I often do. My comment was witty but nothing to write home about. I began to get notifications about others liking my comment,  and the brain chemicals that fire off from social media involvement began to dance. As more like notifications poured in the dance got louder and more manic. What began with me being tickled about 100 likes became me feeling like a comic genius at OVER 3,100 likes. I feverishly checked my rise in validation continuously throughout the days, watching my approval rating as though I was a stock broker tracking the market. I sent my friend, a professional NYC comedian, regular updates. I felt like I should go get a job in some brilliant writers room somewhere in LA, a position I have often envisioned myself having. It was very interesting to observe myself, a Buddhist practitioner, get so ensnared in the crack hits of acknowledgment that Instagram provides. I really freaking enjoyed thousands of people finding my comment funny. Now, of course, there’s nothing wrong with feeling gratified at feeling seen and appreciated. It’s healthy and part of being a human who needs belonging and acceptance on the primal level. But as we all know, one of the unhealthy aspects to social media is the literal drug induced high we get from likes, comments, replies, shares etc. It can make one crazy in so many ways, and it’s undoubtedly the cause of tremendous delusion in numerous directions. It makes us feel on top of the world if we feel seen/accepted/acknowledged/appreciated and can really lead to delusions of grandeur. It’s a false sense of self. The underbelly side is that it notoriously causes many people to become depressed/lonely/alienated/ unacknowledged/unseen/forsaken. In the most extreme cases it can lead to suicide, especially when relentless cruelty is wielded in the form of cyber bullying. Social media is its own unique kind of heaven and hell, and many people are not equipped to psychologically handle it. It is one of the easiest traps to fall into and it requires real self awareness to not let it get to us; no one is great or terrible as determined by likes and comments. It’s a social trick to let ourselves be defined one way or the other, and it takes us so far away from ourselves when we base our opinions of our own existence on this fickle, 3D matrix of a scale. The algorithm is a very fair weather friend. It is often an enemy. Point being, it’s just like anything else in that it’s something to enjoy and use, but we cannot let it be the barometer for which we measure our lives. Life is full of things to enjoy and use as tools, many of them “status” giving. It’s our responsibility to relate to them in a realistic way that doesn’t cloud our view of ourselves. 
None of this is news, I’m not claiming originality here; but it was amusing to watch myself get so quickly sucked in to the vortex. It was a reminder to see my ego as a ravenous, never satisfied entity of my being and accept that as its nature. The hungry ghost in each of us loves this shit. It feeds on the algorithm, rabidly seeking approval from complete strangers. Bots even. 
I love social media for many reasons, and I’m glad it’s likely here to stay. Adding to that list of reasons is the crucial reminder to stay grounded in the face of likes and dislikes, to listen to feedback without letting it inflate or infect my sense of self. To not be attached to the opinions of others or even my own. To observe and not absorb. I chomp at the bit so fast, whether it’s liking or commenting on someone else’s posts (I only write positive things) or gulping down what others post to me. It’s something I’m always working on, the pause which creates a space in which I can ask myself, “does this align with the values I vowed to have?” “Must I participate here?” I feel small victories daily when I engage in social media more consciously. I will absolutely continue to enjoy it as well as observe my relationship to it. It’s a not small part of my life which means it requires a hefty degree of awareness and non attachment. Hell yeah, it felt good to have so many people enjoy my expression on that comedian’s page(check out Jordan Jensen btw, she’s awesome). Part of the reason likes feel good is because they make our creative offerings feel received, and joking comments are meant to be laughed at. It’s all part of the fun and fun is essential to life.
 It’s clear I have more work to do in the way of this particular type of non attachment, which is fine. Observe, learn, integrate small changes. One like at a time. And if I do wind up with the cool kids in a writers room one day, you heard it here first. 

Famous Last Words

This is the song I want played at my funeral. It’s called “That’s How Strong My Love Is” by the great Otis Redding. It’s the message I want to leave my kids and loved ones when the time in this body is up. I recently played this for a friend who was due to speak at his best friend’s memorial service the following day, and he added this to the program upon hearing it. It’s such an important and profound question we must ask ourselves: what do we want to leave behind in the world? I find that the more clarity I have on how I want to live, the more I have on how I want to leave. As my teacher, Sensei Dr. Kōshin Paley Ellison of the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care asked us recently: how are we actually living our lives in a way that supports the lives we say we want to create? What seeds are we planting, what steps are we taking, what choices are we making? This life is ours to design and live out. We can make the most of it or waste it. And talking about the dreams for our life are meaningless without aligned, consistent, integrated action. That’s just the fact of the matter. In many ways I have taken aligned action and in many ways I have not yet done so. No one can meet my visions, dreams, and ideas for a well lived life but me. 

I want to live a life of strong, full, brave and powerful love, and I wish for my funeral to reflect this. I want my loved ones to know that what I planted and nurtured while I was physically alive will remain energetically alive. I want my kids to feel me in every moment, and the strength of their mother and her love. I want the words of this beautiful song to be a gift and a message, just like my life itself. I share this song with you, it’s such an intimate and moving part of my heart and process. 

What song would you choose for your last words? What would you want your parting message to be? Are you living a life that will lead to the continuation of that message when you’re not in your body? 

A Poem About Betrayal

I recently read this poem for my seniors at the nursing home. I regularly lead community sessions on various spiritual and religious topics. Betrayal, a deeply painful theme, had been popping up in many of my individual visits so I wanted to bring it up in group. It’s a topic that is so seldom discussed; it’s one of the kinds of pain that cuts so deep that many of us have absolutely no idea how to begin to approach it. Discussing the darkest parts of the human experience is often very intimidating because we simply don’t have the language for it. It’s hard enough to experience it, and there’s something about bringing pain into the light that feels rightfully frightening. Betrayal in particular can bring up massive waves of shame; how could they have treated me like that? What’s wrong with me that I’m on the receiving end of such treatment? Don’t they love me? Don’t I deserve love/kindness/care? These are some of the questions that I hear in discussions about betrayal, and they are questions I have asked myself when I have experienced it. Betrayal is so confusing, especially from people who claim to love us. It comes in many forms to varying degrees. Our loved ones and not loved ones can make us feel betrayed, our bodies can make us feel betrayed, Life/God/the government/teachers/doctors whom we are relying on, the list goes on because we are all very vulnerable to all kinds of hurt. Disappointment seems to be lurking everywhere.
One of the biggest forms of betrayal is in how we treat ourselves. I have certainly betrayed myself countless times in all sorts of ways, and no doubt you’d find people in my life (some of whom I love dearly) who have felt betrayed by me. I have yet to meet one person who has not experienced visceral betrayal on some level. It’s one of the hardest parts of human relationship. We must learn how, and have the courage to do so, to meet our suffering or it will destroy us from the inside out. Read that again.
The day we had our group talk on this topic I was irritated and felt ill equipped to lead such a discussion. I myself do not have the language for this but it was clear it was important to invite into the room, to make it safe and acceptable for people to share and express if they wanted to. It’s a comfort to know and feel that we do not go through pain alone. I find it alleviates shame and feelings of alienation when we can turn to a neighbor for resonance, honesty, and recognition. Admitting and exposing our struggles deepens relationships by inviting intimacy and vulnerability into a dynamic. There’s nothing wrong with any of us. We all go through lots of shit we don’t deserve.
This poem was very well received by the seniors. They described it as profound and asked for copies. Perhaps it will resonate with you. I’m curious what your interpretation of Love’s words are here… How would you respond to Love as it’s presented? How do Love’s words make you feel?

My Current To Do List

Be not fooled by anything you see me doing on social media… Here is a list of things weighing on me in various degrees of urgency, ranging from super practical to more lofty. They all matter.

Do more yoga

Meditate more by the altar in my room

Hire a painter to touch up the cracked paint in my house

Eat less fish

Take a rug making workshop with my daughters in Brooklyn

Visit a NYC speakeasy (any suggestions?)

Go back to therapy

Find a qi gong teacher

Hone certain DJ skills

See the New York philharmonic

Update and put together my will and advanced directives. We really never know.

Purchase a cemetery plot for myself in Israel

Purchase a new DJ consul with neon lighting

Think about where I want to travel this summer

Learn about aromatherapy and apply it

Refresh my Rieki learnings and apply it (I took official courses in levels 1 and 2)

Remove my 3 week old gel manicure before I start chipping away

Learn more Yiddish

Make hamantaschen for Purim which is coming up

Go dancing at a club

Take a course in food photography

Take online dance classes

Organize my tights and bathing suit drawers

Organize my costume jewelry

Cut the sleeves and necks off my collection of concert tees I’ve been gathering for 20 years

Spend more time in person at the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care

Organize my son’s art supplies

Frame and hang things that I love

Sharpen my lip and eyeliners

Commit to daily Kegel exercises

Get a mammogram

Get my eyes checked

Start to believe the stark fact that I won’t live forever

Make bar mitzvah photo albums

Integrate my zen practice more

Practice what I preach

Not eat nachos and salted cashews at night

Keep exploring what each moment is offering me and meet it, turning away from nothing and towards everything

In Relationship

Ah, relationships. We are never not in them. I’m not referring to romantic ones, though naturally those are included as well. I used to think “relationship” did indeed point to romance in some way, likely as a result of our cultural lexicon. Since taking on Soto Zen Buddhist practice (in addition to my inherent and beloved Judaism) I have learned that “being in relationship” means how we relate to all things. Literally all things, not just beings that breathe, feel, walk etc. The particular lineage I was dropped into is the Japanese Mahayana school, whose chief focus is relational. How am I relating to myself? To you? To the Starbucks barista? To my pen? To my food? To my swollen ankle? To the weather? The list is literally endless, even more so in the sense that after we die we are still relating just in a different way outside of the physical body. Many people dear to me have died and I still talk to them, feel close to them, and feel their love in the atmosphere. The relationship remains though it has changed. Even if one believes that once people die then that’s it, there are still usually genetics passed on, memories that pop up, stories still told, perhaps a gravesite in a cemetery somewhere. Lives end but often a life is still felt and recalled in some way.

Humans are relationship machines. Our existence is full of them at all times, this is inescapable. Even a hermit that has sworn off everyone and everything still relates to himself, his cave, the minimal food he needs, the elements, and his body’s needs. How we are in relationship is what determines our quality of being in this life, and this begins with how we relate to ourselves. This primary relationship is often the benchmark to how we relate to things “outside” of us. Take food. I’m going to be eating it multiple times a day. My body cannot survive without it and the fact that I love food is a huge bonus. How I relate to my food will determine so many things; the quality and quantity of what I put into my mouth, the pace in which I consume it, the self centered way I might see it, or how much greed shows up in how much I consume without considering others. Am I appreciative that I’m not one of millions of hungry people in the world? Am I at all aware of the many factors that went into my biting into an apple or preparing a meal? The seeds, farmers, rain, soil, delivery men, people stocking the shelves at the supermarket, who is involved in my income that affords me the ability to purchase food, the Instacart person, my dentist who keeps my teeth healthy, my organs that miraculously automatically digest each bite. So much goes into eating an apple. My awareness or complete lack thereof will either nurture my eating of the apple or destroy it. So many opportunities are wasted. If I’m in a slower, grateful state then I will be mindful of each bite, think about what and who placed the apple in my hand, say a Hebrew blessing on it (I always do this and each food group has its own blessings. I see it as having manners to God), and have a full sensory experience. The taste, texture, and feel of the fruit will matter and greatly enhance the apple eating process. If I’m irritated, unsatisfied, rushed, self focused, and thinking about a list of other things then even the most delicious apple in the world will be lost on me. How I pause and choose to relate to the apple is enormous. It is this pause and choice that we have in every single moment, task, and person we encounter that ultimately shapes our overall relationship with Life. Here’s another example: how I relate to boredom. It’s kind of like those Choose Your Own Adventure books from my youth (I enjoyed those). My relationship to boredom can be fraught with irritability and desire for the moment to look entirely different than it does. I can mentally go down numerous rabbit holes that launch a campaign on how no one else in the world but me is bored, they’re all out having a great time while I’m alone and lonely at home with nothing to do and no one to do it with. I can easily lapse into a self critical shame spiral where the message is how I should be using this time to hustle/practice/do/go (code for lazy). Or I can choose to not escape my boredom and just admit to it without seeking distractions from what it brings up. Maybe I do have nothing to do and no one to do it with. Maybe I do feel agitated and lonely. Maybe there are valuable things I should be doing to fill the time. Maybe I am feeling lazy. Some or all of this may be present and if so, so what? None of these things are objectively a problem. It’s how I relate to them that will lead to how I relate to the boredom itself. If I can be honest about the temporary presence of the boredom instead of running from it then it becomes more tolerable. Yup, I’m bored and I’m still here. I survived.

How we relate to anger is a very powerful point of self investigation. Each of us handles anger differently and are shaped by our earliest experiences with it. Anger can be as destructive as wildfire or healing when it’s tended to properly. Like boredom, anger is a natural part of life. As are sadness, selfishness, shame, loneliness, impatience, and all the other darker aspects to our personalities we often turn away from. I find that how I choose to relate to these most challenging and uncomfortable parts is really where the relational gold lies. It’s easy to have a good relationship to a cute puppy or someone I love who makes me feel good. It’s way harder to have a healthy relationship to someone I don’t like, or to my fear of rejection and abandonment. I can choose the “adventure” that leads me towards a place where my greatest fears teach me how to find inner spiritual medicine, or I can lead myself deeper and deeper into a gripping abyss where the voices that tell me I will always be abandoned are very loud. I have come to learn through Buddhist psychology that those voices will likely always be there. How I relate to them (and my core abandonment wound for which they are a mouthpiece) is at the root of my relationship to myself. A healthy relationship with these voices is possible and I work on it constantly because as we know, all healthy relationships take consistent work and effort. Learning tools and having a strong spiritual practice are essential for me in relating to my core wounds. Meditation is crucial in that it gives space and time to let the wounds crawl out from the corners and say their piece. Meditation is the ultimate in relationship. To myself, to the earth that supports me while I’m sitting, and chiefly to my breath. Our relationship to breathing alone takes a lifetime to examine.

 The effort I put into all my relationships, from the water in my glass to my children, is indicative of so much. It speaks to how I feel I deserve to live, life’s purpose, to my capacity to use agency to begin again in a wiser way, to how those around me deserve to be treated, to how much gratitude I’m feeling or not, and to how well I’m actually and practically using my days while I’m alive. How I treat myself is how I treat my moments. How I treat my moments and all the ingredients they contain is how I treat my greater life. I’m not going to like at least half the ingredients my life will include. People, sickness, death, circumstances, work, traffic, heartbreak etc are often super painful and unpleasant. Accepting this unpleasantness is the first step to beginning to relate healthily to it. Acceptance is healthy, resistance is not. You will know when you are relating wisely to someone or something; there is often a feeling, however small, of mental and emotional space. Our system relaxes in response to any measure of wisdom. When we relate unskillfully there is contraction, it’s a message that something is amiss. We are designed to tighten up and protect ourselves from unhealthy relationships. It’s ok, it’s all a normal way the body mind is leading us to relate differently. The power we have to choose is tremendous, we just have to remember it and use it well. Our relationships are our responsibilities. Only we determine how this goes. It doesn’t matter how others relate to us, that’s their choice and responsibility. I have found that when I can relate well to when someone relates to me poorly, then I truly feel I’m honoring myself and my practice. Often a healthy way to relate to such things is to allow distance and relate from afar. Relationships are alive and ever changing. We can give ourselves over to the process of cultivating healthy relational dynamics and it requires our awake participation.
What shift can you make in order to better relate to the ingredients in your life in this exact moment?

Minyan Man

Today’s post is inspired by the song of the week, Minyan Man. Please take a listen :) It’s a song I recall fondly from my youth in the 80’s. Lots of nostalgia with this one. It’s about the power and importance of ten Jewish men coming together to pray in a “minyan” or quorum in English (Latin?). Jews can and do pray individually but there are certain prayers and rituals, such as saying Kaddish to honor the dead, that require the gathering of ten men. I love how this directive is so intelligently designed to bring community together. Jews have always existed in community and how we gather to pray is essential to the heartbeat of any Jewish group. We live near synagogues, making sure to raise our families in these ancient laws and traditions so that we can perpetuate and continue our religion, culture, and heritage. The minyan is one of the most essential parts to daily Jewish life. When someone is saying Kaddish for one who has died, they need a minyan three specific times a day (in orthodox tradition) for 11 months. This is not easy to accomplish before you even factor in traveling to cities that might be short on Jews, being on an airplane during prayer time, being at work, etc. It’s not often easy to make a minyan which is one of the reasons it’s such a precious thing. When my ex husband was saying Kaddish for his mother it was a massively exhaustive challenge to gather 10 men together on a constant basis, and that’s with us being fortunate enough to live near several vibrant synagogues.
When I think about the countless Jewish communities throughout history who have been completely wiped out it shatters my heart. Communities all over the world that were once bursting with Jewish life and can no longer scrape together 10 Jewish men to build a minyan. I cry when I think about it. So much loss, suffering, and torture to be able to express one’s religious and spiritual beliefs. Of course this isn’t unique to Jews and it’s a form of maniacal control on the part of the persecutors I fortunately cannot comprehend. What it must have been like to try to gather a minyan in a concentration camp, or in Spain during the insane brutality of the Spanish Inquisition. Jews have prayed in hiding throughout our history, risking their lives to fulfill the mitzvah/commandment of praying in community. It’s no small thing, in fact it’s a tremendous contribution on the part of a Jewish male after they turn 13 and reach the age of bar mitzvah. This was part of my speech to my son last week as our family celebrated his milestone bar mitzvah. In Judaism 13 year old males are considered men in that they are now tasked to take on the commandments and responsibilities of the religion. My 13 year old 7th grader a man? For a million reasons I’m not buying it. BUT, as I said to him from our synagogue podium in front of 350 people, you are indeed a minyan man. He can and must contribute to the precious mitzvah of being counted in a minyan. It’s vital to our survival, it keeps us in relationship with our brethren, and it’s our heritage that has been transmitted and upheld through generations by our ancestors, often in perilous situations. What an honor it is to support someone praying for a deceased beloved with the holy Kaddish. It’s so important to be part of the team and to know your value as an individual. My message to my son was this: you matter, the collective matters, and each of us is so important, impactful, and necessary. How we show up for each other is everything. I told him I hope he travels all over this great world as much as he wants and that wherever he goes he should find the synagogue, find his fellow Jews, and offer his beautiful, strong presence for a minyan. Our presence is our purest offering. When we are sure of how much we matter and what we can contribute then we see life from a large, clear, generous place. Mazal tov to my baby, one of the newest Minyan Men in the Jewish nation. May he nurture and use his newfound responsibilities for the good of all, wherever life takes him. May I do the same.

My Sacred Space

Welcome:) I wanted to show you my altar and meditation corner. This space is in a corner of my room across from my bed to the left, so I always have a clear view of it. This wall used to house the pics of my very first ever “special” photo shoot, way before the blog was even an embryo. It was the first shoot that ever helped me begin to see myself in a clearer light. Those photos are still very special and beautiful and have a new home on a different wall. The evolution of this particular wall, much like my own evolution, is not lost on me. Shifts, adjustments, explorations, and learnings are always happening. Growth and flow are so alive, and I love how this little section of my bedroom reflects that. 
I want to take you through some of the important items I’ve placed on this lovely altar, that I got on Amazon during the height of the pandemic. My zen teacher always cracks up at that, and it’s such a funny statement about how we can “order” spirituality. I love the altar, which was made in Nepal, for its carved tree design. It’s the Tree of Life which connects us all, rooting us and providing us with deep nourishment. We all come from the earth and other elements and this reminds me of that, how we are all branches growing from the same source of rootedness. 
The little white turtle represents the turtle chakra, one of the minor chakras. I love this so much because it’s a beautifully profound teaching on our innate ability to go inward, gather our outer limbs and come home to ourselves. The rose quartz crystal is from my dear friend who is a reiki healer and astrologer. Rose quartz carries and invites love into the space. The green heart represents the heart chakra, another reminder of the capacity for love and where it lives in the physical and energetic body. Sage and Palo Santo are natural herbs I’ll occasionally burn to cleanse the space. I like to do this after going through something painful, monumental, or painfully monumental as I feel ready to cut cords and enter a new chapter. Herb burning is an ancient wisdom practice that connects me to the ancestors who had access to the deepest magic and healing in nature. If it worked for them it can work for me. The wooden figure is a foot and half statue of Avalokiteshvara, the Japanese Soto zen face of compassion. She responds to the cries of the world and represents our inner capacity to do the same. She isn’t an idol or a deity but a reflector back to us of our own beautiful compassionate nature that is always present. My singing bowl and incense holder bring my sense of smell and hearing into the space in a ritualistic way that engages more of me. The stillness and serenity of the Buddha figure is direct and clear in its teaching of the steadfast calm that lies at the heart of life, underneath the storms and chaos. The colorful zen monk figurines were a recent birthday gift from my kids. They mean so much to me because it was a beautiful intention for my children to connect with me over something they know is important to me. I was profoundly moved by this gesture. Theses figurines live in the center of my sacred space and bring my kids to the heart of this tangible place of meditative practice. The little green bead has Hebrew letters and was given to me by a dharma brother in my sangha.  He’s not Jewish but his husband is Israeli and he gave this to me after we bonded during a silent retreat. He had learned of how important my Judaism is to me and this thoughtful gesture touched me. How we pay attention to what’s important to one another speaks volumes. My lineage chart I wrote by hand before taking Jukai, vows to uphold and care for the zen precepts. What I love so much about seeing all these names of human ancestors is the reminder that they had the same pain, shit, and challenges that are part of being a person. They suffered and struggled and committed to learning a new way of being with it. Because of their commitment I now have the medicine of this practice. 

Our space is so important. How we arrange it, care for it, be in it. It’s another extension of how we care for ourselves. Setting up this little oasis of peace, grounding, and reflection reminds me that I can always come home, to both it and my true nature.

The 45th Year

I decided to make a combo post this week. How great when inspiration and beautiful living fully merge?

As I do every year around my birthday, I have been contemplating and reflecting about past, present, and future. I love the cupcakes, gifts, well wishes, balloons, and celebrations just as much as the next person. I also love the opportunity to take stock and inventory of the past year; what it contained, what it taught, what it led me to, and how I conducted myself throughout all the challenges, trials, and triumphs. It’s important to share that some years have been hell, and that this, too, must be reviewed. I have never had a day that was just one thing let alone a year. Each year has been full of countless experiences, causes, conditions, joys, and sorrows that helped bring me towards the next phase of rebirth. Different years have different flavors though, and I feel it’s a healthy practice to honestly take a good look at where I grew, where I flopped, how I learned, how I missed the mark, how I loved, how I shrunk myself, how much I learned, how much I explored, and how I stayed stuck. And that’s just part of the list. 12 months is a long time in which a lot could (and should) happen. To be totally honest, many of my birthdays used to bum me out in certain ways. When I felt no growth, evolution, or changes in routine I’d be full of sadness, disappointment that I was failing myself, and dread that life would look the same every year as I added another candle to the cake. It weighed on me terribly; what’s the point of being alive year after year when nothing seems to be evolving? I didn’t know what I wanted from myself but I knew intuitively that I was meant to live in a much larger way that I had been. Defining my life by dates on the calendar depressed the hell out of me. Birthdays, anniversaries, winter breaks, summer camp dates, etc were these markers of time that somehow moved the years along but not me. From a mother’s perspective, it can be hard to watch our kids growing and changing while we stay stagnant. At least that’s how I felt for many years. The difference is that children obviously naturally grow and develop while adults have to really work at it. When my height capped out at 5 feet 4 inches, my shoe size settled into a 7 1/2, my body size and weight were pretty consistent, and I had long ago finished school, what was left for me to grow into? Where could any other possible evolution come from? Was I 34 years old and done becoming anything other than I was? I gotta tell you, it felt bleak in this way. It’s like I was celebrating being born but not being fully alive. I felt dishonest and I had no idea how to change that. The real kicker was this: when I ran out of birthdays what the hell would be said at my funeral? Life is so precious and is bursting with all sorts of possibilities. I didn’t feel like I was taking advantage of any of then and that hurt my heart. At the time I saw no alternative and resigned myself to this just is how life is. We completely stop growing at the end of adolescence and that’s simply life’s design. I can’t think of a more disempowering sentiment; that I’m a helpless participant in the rhythm of life, meant to be tossed about as I check off dates sporadically on a calendar, skipping over the “non special” weekdays because they didn’t mean much unless marked for something. I didn’t know how to manage myself and so I didn’t know how to manage the mundane, much less how I fit into it all. I totally understand why stay at home mothers often freak out as the kids get older. Who are we aside from that role, and what do we do as the busyness of raising little ones shifts? Cultivating individuality is no joke. It takes time, self interest, self discovery, and honoring natural developmental stages. It takes energy that likely feels unattainable. Knowing who we are and how we want to exist as individuals does not happen by accident. There is no magic pill to take to learn the answers to life’s great question: what am I truly here for? I love the word “existential” and how it’s often paired with “crisis”. It is indeed an important crisis on the individual path to go through. Why was I placed in a human existence and what is my task in this life? I knew my greater purpose far exceeded packing for camp and planning and organizing stuff. I hear this so often from peers and friends, and while the question is a tough one it’s also a crucial one. No answers come without a proceeding question. We need the confusion to bring about clarity.

So what am I clear on as I process the fact that I have been alive for a full 44 years, now beginning a 45th? I’m clear on how I feel more youthful each year as I shed heavy past conditioning and trauma. In the meditation community there’s a joke about a “meditation facial”. I absolutely feel more outer radiance as my inner radiance pierces through and rediscovers its shine. I’m clear that I exist to contribute to the landscape of humanity, and that I need to do serious work on myself in order to do this. My blockages that prevent me from living from a place of existential perspective are my responsibility. I’m clear that if I don’t watch and tend to my breathing then everything I do, think, and say is affected. I’m clear that for me, Buddhism is the greatest medicine I have ever encountered. I wish everyone could taste it. I’m clear about how the most ordinary non calendar highlighted days are fully extraordinary. When I feel the warm sunshine, hear a birdsong, enjoy a delicious meal, feel the shower or breeze on my skin, laugh with my kids, learn something knew, or hug a friend, these are extraordinary occurrences. How magnificent it is to take a step or open a fully stocked refrigerator. Just ask someone who can’t walk or a person who has no access to food what a miracle these things are. I’m clear that I want my whole life to be an offering, be it through DJing, chaplaincy, or how I behave on the Starbucks line. I’m clear on the inherently fallible nature of humankind and that I will be bitchy, greedy, angry, deluded, idiotic, and moody. I’m clear I can begin again when that happens. I’m clear that I will no longer let fear drive the bus, and that love must be the only force that guides me. I’m clear there’s no time to live any other way. I’m clear that when I act from love then any mess will clean itself up, and I’m clear that fear will not vanish but that its hold over me will keep loosening. I’m clear that the choice between love and fear is that black and white, and that we are alive to make that choice. I’m clear that the more I live fully, honestly, and with integrity that when it’s my turn to die I will do so with peace in my heart. I’m clear that I’m proud of myself, that I love myself, and that anyone who tried to convince me I wasn’t precious and deserving was very wrong. I’m clear that there is so much more to learn, get close to, appreciate, and experience. I’m clear on the absolute interconnection of all things and that manure nourishes and encourages growth.

Here’s to another 45 years in which I can continue on this path of trust, love, expansion, compassion, and connection. We don’t need a birthday to embrace these qualities but the reminders sure don’t hurt.

I am clear I am reborn every single day.

Root to Rise

I just completed a 5 day silent Sesshin (heart mind) retreat with the New York Zen Center for Contemplative Care. I have found such a home in this community and the connectivity I feel with them amidst noble silence is indescribable. In that vein, I have been reflecting a lot on the uniquely pure wisdom one hears in a space of clear silence. About how we must declutter to uncover what we most need, that which has been buried all along waiting to be unearthed. I find it very difficult to locate my inner wisdom when there is constant chatter; in my brain, in verbal conversation with others, in my surroundings, on my phone, etc. How can we hear anything amongst such nonstop ubiquitous yada yada coming at us from all directions? One of the great benefits of meditation is that it affords us the opportunity to gift ourselves with the possibility of stillness in body, mind, and thought which causes deep inner truth to speak to us. Even if the possibility reveals itself to be just 2 seconds long, at least we learn we can get there. That inner voice is always there and wanting to communicate, but worldly noises are deafening and often distract us. Def not our fault but it’s something we must deal with if we want to dive deeper below the surface of 3D life. Meditation is not a thoughtless space; thoughts will always arise as long as a brain is healthy and active, but as we sit we can watch them and learn to deal with them in a way that reduces their seductive power. I truly have no idea what my life would look like now without this practice, the guidance of my teachers, and the support of my spiritual friends. Sitting with our minds is really hard. Most people avoid it at all costs, using any means available as a distraction. There are countless dark, scary mental alleyways the brain wants to drag us towards. It’s much easier to take a drink, pop a pill, turn on the tv, exercise, or scroll mindlessly on our phones. It is an act of courage to willingly go forth into the abyss of mind. It is also the only way to go to the root of painful thought processes that cause so much suffering. The clinging, doubts, anxieties, and obsessions get louder and louder because they want and need attention. Going to the root of pain seems counterintuitive; why would I walk headfirst into the lion’s mouth when I could binge watch a show and pop a numbing pill?? The latter option definitely sounds more fun and certainly easier. The former, however, is what ultimately gives us our power back. By carefully digging up our painful, traumatic roots we can learn to replant and regrow our lives. I began this process 5 years ago and I can say with certainty that my life continues to improve, deepen, and amaze me. The more I locate hidden reserves of bravery to tackle the shit factory in my mind, the more clearing out I can do. The closet does not clean itself, and just like old, ratty clothes that you no longer need, there lies a huge trunk of old, ratty narratives you don’t need either. I have yet to meet a single person, regardless of background/race/upbringing/socio economic status who doesn’t have armfuls of heavy trauma. Our stories get to a point (hopefully!) where they are just too cumbersome to keep shlepping around. Once we decide it’s enough already and that it’s time to put down The Stuff, however warranted and valid it is, then we have already created an opening. Getting fed up is excellent news. It’s like being sick and tired of being sick and tired. This is when we realize there has to be another way, at least that’s absolutely what I experienced. I had no idea what that other way looked like, but a part of me knew it existed. For years I said to my best friends, “there has to be another way.” I owed it to myself, my life, and my kids to discover a new way of existing in the world. A way that no longer had me enslaved by the rampant thoughts and emotions that consumed me. The brain is designed to secrete thoughts and so it always will. If not then a person is brain dead in the literal sense. Your stock ticker of thoughts means you’re alive, more good news! The goal is not to eradicate thought but to master it. This is very taxing work and so I laugh when people tell me to “enjoy the retreat!!” Of course I appreciate the good wishes and accept them, and I do enjoy these practice opportunities tremendously but they are exhausting AF. Make no mistake; this ain’t a vacation. However, it is a portal to the possibility of peace and to get there one must be willing to dive into some very choppy, treacherous waters. All the demons come up, thrilled to have center stage while Netflix is off and the Klonopin is at home. This is why the support of teachers and spiritual friends is crucial. We are pack animals who heal amongst others. I cannot imagine doing this work on an island and feel so grateful I don’t have to. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Therapy is really important but it’s not the same as entering the ring of my mind, that underground fight club no one else can possibly see. What happens in fight club stays in fight club unless we face it head on and begin to dig up all that inner conflict. Trust me, I know it hurts. But so does carrying that hurt around forever so we have to choose: the pain of doing the work or the pain of holding tight to the trauma driven narratives. I’ve tried both ways and there is one clear winner.

 My close friend in the zendo (meditation hall) is a longtime dedicated practitioner. She looked at me at one point and whispered, “why are we doing this??”. I replied, “because it’s so much worse if we don’t” (I have my moments). And so this is the process that adds to the list of the countless dualities inherent in this life: getting quiet to hear. We have to die to be reborn, root down to grow upwards, follow the breath to come home, and enter the dark places only to see the light. There would be no light without darkness; it’s the relativity of the two opposing forces that make each what they are. 
There is a well known Yiddish fable that I think most religions have some version of. An old lady comes crying to the village rabbi that her tiny house is so cramped. Woe is her. What does the rabbi advise? He tells her to fill her house with a cow, a few chickens, a couple cats, etc. Then the problem will be fixed. She obeys only to return a few days later complaining that it’s now worse. Now what should she do? The rabbi then instructs her to take out all the animals one by one. Again she obeys and comes joyfully back to the rabbi that she now has so much space. Only through living with the clutter did things get so bad that she had to work on removing things, to discover that her original space was perfect. 
Our minds enter this world pure, open, and clear. If they started off this way then we can go back to that place that already exists, and the human predicament is that things have to get hella complicated before they become simple.
When I root down and connect with the literal earth beneath me, feel my butt, bones, and feet on the floor or my back against the chair, I make physical contact with a firm entity that is supportive and constant. By connecting to this entity that’s holding me I can engage, activate, and rise up straighter. I mean this physically and spiritually, and I feel my body doing what’s required to lift me. Straight, strong spine, breath inflating my lungs, air entering my nostrils, belly rising and falling, shoulders soft and open, neck resting regally atop my vertebrae; this is my body working with my spirit to rest in expansive awareness. When I feel myself planted down and the sky kissing the top of my head I know I am sandwiched in between two great forces of strength, support, and guidance. What else is there but that.

Rest and Reset

Ah, these two words. I’ve come to love them, learn them, and incorporate them. They differ by only one little letter, that’s how closely related they are. It has taken me until very recently to fully embrace resting and resetting, and inviting them in has truly been nourishing, medicinal, and essential. Perhaps this sounds like a lot of words for what essentially means “to take a break”, and I have had to get curious about why this simple concept is often so complicated to achieve. Using my own habitual resistance to resting and resetting as a springboard, I am increasingly interested in the same resistance I see in almost everyone I know. The explanations to why it’s so damn hard to really, really take a long pause range from macro to micro. Western society (particularly American, particularly New York, particularly capitalist) at large promotes urgency culture, heroism in the hustle, and value in over achieving to the point of burn out. We are fed these messages in our toddler sippy cups. They not only come from our surroundings at large but also from many of our families of origin, for a variety of reasons. In speaking with a friend who is also from an immigrant culture, we talked about the immigrant mentality of grit and relentless determination to work our asses off so as to cement ourselves in American society. There is indeed great societal value and validation found in achieving and contributing, and immigrants commonly throw themselves completely into the pursuit of a more fruitful life. Many have left countries where opportunity didn’t exist or weren’t available and so they are driven to make the most out of a new life, especially in light of the sacrifices that needed to be made to chart a new family path. Since I’m from a family of mostly Polish Jews who survived the Holocaust, I have definitely inherited the message to work really hard, prove myself, and achieve. My friend, and his family is from a different country, concurred. These motivations are good: they were necessary survival skills in dire times of scarcity and often danger, and work ethic, drive, commitment, and determination are obviously important qualities. We’d get nowhere without them. However, like all characteristics they must be balanced in order to be genuinely effective. Without that balance we burn the candle at both ends and begin to push ourselves past the point of what is healthy, rational, practical, and enjoyable. Enjoyment is so often a forgotten ingredient, and I think the main reasons for that are that it’s seen as a luxury (which is ludicrous) as well as that it’s basically antithetical to the extreme overdrive that is ubiquitously lauded. Where is the joy when we are killing ourselves in the name of accomplishment? I know for myself that no one ever told me to take a break from anything until I met my Zen teachers. I was taught very early on that praise, acknowledgment, and affection were given conditionally, the conditions being that I looked pretty, got good grades, or behaved in ways deemed acceptable. Other parts of my life held the same messages because that was my first learned language. We speak what we are first modeled.  I know many people who were led to believe that the whole hamster on a wheel thing is just the way life needs to be. If we stop then not only do we lose out but even more so, who are we when we are doing nothing? Does our identity disappear when we aren’t feeding it nonstop? Additionally, what are we without that identity entirely? Is “rest” nothing or is it a different kind of something? I have come to realize that not only is rest a huge something but that’s it’s crucial because it’s in that space where a conscious reset is possible. True change of any kind cannot be made from zombie unconsciousness. There must be a period where space is given to recharge and reflect. This, Friends, ain’t nothing. In fact it may be everything because it creates inner calm and expansion, allowing us to recalibrate from a place of regulated clarity.
One of my zen teachers who is now 94 was a professional dancer for the famed Martha Graham dance company. She broke her back and could no longer dance. She went through an existential crisis of not knowing who she was without her former dancer’s identity. You hear stories like this all the time; half the people whose circumstances radically change are lost and depressed for a long time/forever, and the other half learn to dig deeper for themselves underneath their now dead ideas about themselves and their lives. Our ideas about ourselves are vastly different when we are 4, 14, 64, and 94. We keep going through the different stages of natural life with varying scripts to shape each stage. Point being, we don’t maintain the same identity throughout life. It’s neither natural nor possible. Our ideas about ourselves can, do, and must change as we continue to adjust to the constantly changing causes and conditions of life.
I love the Hindu chakra system. The second chakra below the navel is the energy wheel associated with the water element. We are physically comprised of a lot of water. We pee, cry, sweat, and salivate. We came from a womb filled with warm, enveloping fluid. This is our first home. Water represents the ability to flow and adapt, to change shape and form (ice, gas) to fit life’s changing situations. Without the ability to literally go with the flow, the second chakra is out of balance and likely clamped shut. Since the chakras (energy gates) all work together, stuck energy in one will prevent our inner life force from flowing into the next. Blockages and energetic and emotional traffic jams will remain until they are carefully cleared out, like real standstill auto traffic. To clear anything out with care and intention requires stopping to see what’s needed. When we rest and reset we repair. We can move back to the more active part of life with reinvigorated and reimagined freshness. The balance of action and rest is found everywhere in nature. Sun and moon, day and night, sweat eventually cools, crops take time to grow and seeds to sprout, eyes are designed to see then close, and the body requires sleep. There are infinite examples in nature that teach us how the qualities of rest and action partner perfectly to create harmony. Humans are nature too, so how could we possibly live in health and harmony without our own balance of doing and being? To just be without the urge to do and go is one of the keys to living a healthy life. Cultivating the skill of rest is a gift we give ourselves.
The blog has been a great place of practice for me in this area. A couple months ago I decided that after 6 years of pumping out new food content weekly, that I would release myself from that self imposed pressure and do recipes in a way that brought me back to organic enjoyment. I love cooking and do it every day, and I love coming up with recipes to share with my fellow home cooks and food enthusiasts. Before I was able to realize it or name it, I was feeling pressured and stretched that half my precious weekends were spent experimenting in the kitchen. This left little to no time to practice music or to just chill out and take a much needed beat, let alone if I had personal matters to tend to or enjoy. I went on for months feeling like this before realizing I even had an option to shift. Crazy, right? The decision was mine all along but I didn’t know that because for most of my life the decisions were not mine. I was so used to being at the beck and call of others that I truly did not realize that the power and responsibility to make a change lied with me. This was a very important learning that led me to a new, nourishing action. In yoga and zazen (zen meditation) my teachers are always telling me tweak and adjust, even in the tiniest ways, in order to be more in sync with the practice. This is clearly a metaphor for life; we must consciously redirect ourselves in ways that lead to greater harmony with whatever the present moment is bringing to us. Each moment offers us an invitation to come deeper into presence. The hamster on the wheel cannot accept these invitations for obvious reasons. It will run maniacally on the wheel until it collapses or the wheel breaks. I don’t want to live like this, and though I did for a very long time I’m proud to say that those days are over. I have retired my wheel. I work very hard and push myself when I need to. I definitely have perfectionist tendencies that work great when I’m in a creative space (gotta nail it) and can be softened in other areas (I can serve a cake that isn’t magazine worthy, I can have cellulite).
This holiday season I took a couple weeks off from blogging to give myself a much needed rest and reset. This, too, never occurred to me in six years. I am a consistent person who sees tremendous value in said consistency. However, the sky won’t fall if I take a couple weeks off from creating content. In fact, my new content will be better and more inspired after I’ve had a chance to take a pause and miss it. Both you and I deserve this, and this platform continues to school me as my relationship to it develops and deepens. My writing is so different from when I began because I’m so different from when I began. What are we doing here or anywhere if we aren’t learning along the way? I’m so grateful to the blog for being a teacher, and I’m grateful to myself for remaining a student in the most unexpected places. I forget and then I remember, forget, remember. We can always begin again. The next breath awaits our attention.
Wishing you all a magnificent new year full of delicious rest, resets, and reminders of what matters. Take time to nourish yourselves; when we do that everyone around us benefits. This is how we harmonize with life.

Maybe, Perhaps

This well known teaching story has been a guiding light for me lately. I have been reaching for it when I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by certain circumstances and feelings. It’s a reminder to me that the way things immediately seem is just a part to the bigger story, the story I haven’t yet been privy to. There is always so much more at play that our limited view of life allows us to see. I also am challenged by patience; this tale is a reminder to pause, breathe, feel my feelings without getting swallowed by them, and trust the bigger picture that has yet to be revealed. Very important growth happens in the empty space of inactivity. The pause is crucial, as are faith and trust. These 3 ingredients have gotten me out of many a mental hole when I’m in a sad or fearful state of nervous system dysregulation. 
Looking back on my life I have had many, many moments where the most seemingly unbearable circumstances somehow birthed major turning points, which led to other wonderful situations. And here’s the thing about all the low points: I’ve gotten through all of them even with the pain, struggle, and resistance. In hindsight (naturally) I can see how each dark moment led to me being forced to find new pathways into light. The wisdom taught in stories such as this are timeless for a reason. I find comfort in the fact that humans throughout time and history have felt the same feelings, and that universal wisdom is indeed available. 

The White Lotus

I’m currently obsessed with season 2 of The White Lotus. Binging it. I held off jumping on this new season because I loved the first season so much and didn’t want this new chapter to be disappointing. If that resonates trust me when I tell you that it’s just as juicy and excellent the second time around. The show is obviously visually delicious. Stunning scenarios and beautiful cast members in exotic locations. The casting is fantastic, as is the acting. This show is so much more than meets the satiated eye and I have been pondering why, which led me to want to write about it. 
When I watch each episode I’m fraught with tension and discomfort. There is contraction and unease in my belly, like I’m bracing myself for some kind of impact. Good television is so engrossing and entertaining because it makes us react, even if we can’t name, describe, or explain our reactions. I have always gravitated towards the underbelly of things, particularly beautiful, perfect looking things. It’s so fascinating that underneath the gorgeous facades and fronts of the characters here, lies this deeply uncomfortable, sinister, dark, super fucked up, highly nuanced reality. This formula isn’t new but it always works because audiences love schadenfreude. Humans often get off on watching other humans struggle, especially the ones that seem picture perfect. In today’s culture of  effortlessly beautiful and easeful, filtered social media, it’s extra juicy to see the ugliness and failures of the folks who seem to have it all. This is an unfortunate part of humanity but so it is; we are animals who, despite sophisticated evolution, are designed for survival of the fittest. We are elementally built to compete and win so that we get the food, the mate, the kingdom, and the position in the pack. We eat and have sex to stay alive and procreate just like all animal species. Our survival in the wild is just as much in the lobby of a five star hotel as it is in the jungle, because we are human beings existing in actual jungles of extreme emotions. We are computers taking in unmanageable amounts of psychological and emotional information, and trading it all with others around us at breakneck speed. Human life is hard and complicated, and watching this play out on screen works because it resonates. It’s familiar to us to identify with marital and sexual tension, emotional dysfunction, greed, hedonism and it’s impact, wanting more and more money, disconnection, power struggles, deceit, confusion, grief, anguish, despair, being used, using others, craving, fear, loneliness, and the oft emotional paralysis that results from constant changing human causes and conditions. The list goes on to what we experience and identify with. Pay close attention as a viewer to what you are averse to and then ask yourself what’s striking such a nerve here. It gets interesting when entertainment is more than just entertaining. When I get curious about my personal reactivity in an honest way, I can then go into my body and explore my various tensions and discomfort and why I’m responding so viscerally. Of course I also get grossed out and scared of things I can’t relate to at all, but a show like this that is all about excruciating human nuance. This I relate to. Hard. 
While last season explored themes of socioeconomic divide, this season focuses on sexual and gender power. I so appreciate how each vignette and storyline, while different, are intertwined and interconnected. I’m often on the edge of my seat and am actually reminded of really shitty vacations in beautiful places I’ve taken myself. It’s a miserable experience being so disconnected, restless, tense, and lonely in a beautiful, picturesque setting. It’s clearly supposed to feel different. No one plans a vacation to be miserable and yet it’s such a common outcome. We can take ourselves away but our shit follows us everywhere we go. To watch this play out on screen is actually validating for me, which is why it resonates. Like, wait, I’m not the only one who has struggled in this type of context. I mean I knew that but it scratches an itch watching it unfold at The White Lotus hotel. There us also a deep sadness and alienating quality to the show that makes me panicky. Again, resonance.  It’s really terrible, all the ways in which people hurt each other and try to whitewash it with aesthetics. 
This show is a social experiment to me: throw a bunch of people in this gilded fishbowl and let’s see how they begin to systematically injure and destroy each other in all sorts of ways. I really recommend this show and I also recommend paying close attention to how you respond to it. There’s valuable information there on both the macro and micro levels. A human life is a deeply complicated one, and I find comfort in this discomfort because it bonds us all.