We're Open

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how easily we (I) close up. It is pretty sad, how quick we are to flee, shut down, clench, and tighten. This is a reflexive, protective mechanism designed to brace us for impact. Even if there is no present and immediate threat of pain, we are so conditioned to expect some kind of hurt, that our bodies shut down. Like armadillos, we squeeze and shrink out of self protection and preservation. Feelings of fear will show up in the body in so many different ways. I talked to a friend yesterday who recently went back on the anti depressants he swore off a few months ago. He was afraid of how they eliminated all emotion. Yesterday this person admitted that facing the flood of feelings and fears was too draining, and required too much effort to contend with. So, he’s back on the pills and now “everything is great”. I was really taken aback at that decision. It’s surely not mine to make. To be able to articulate that taking a pill is so much easier than facing reality, that sounded like someone giving up on themselves. It’s basically admitting you cannot tolerate your reality as is, and so you’ll keep renewing whatever prescription gets you the hell out of there. There are so many reasons why, and ways how, we close down in order to protect ourselves and our stories. A child expresses something that’s tough and inconvenient for a parent to hear; the mother’s stomach clenches. A spouse is in a bad mood so we pretend we have an errand to do NOW. One suspects a friend is angry at them, so she avoids her texts. Trapped fears will always seek an escape route via the body.
 

The three most common reactions to stress and pain are fight, flight, or freeze. It’s important to learn your own chief reactive reflex. Awareness is the key to unlearning, and beginning to face anything that has us stuck. All our interactions and interpersonal dynamics will remain as stuck as we ourselves are. It’s really unfair to drag others into our own need for reflexive protection. By no means am I talking about taking any sort of abuse. Absolutely remove yourself. It’s like that saying, “Do no harm, but take no shit”. My reaction is flight. I’m sure I hid plenty in my room as a kid when I was afraid of getting in trouble. When we learn that hiding works, we do it again and again. I used to have a tendency to hang up the phone in a conversation I just couldn’t tolerate. It’s really only words; but I had so much fear and discomfort wrapped up in them, and had to check out. Again, do not remain in a verbally abusive situation, but also please know that words alone cannot hurt you. It’s how we relate to them that can. It’s the part of us that agrees or disagrees with them that determines our response. Slamming down the phone, leaving the room, checking out of a difficult discussion, looking at the phone while someone is trying to talk to us, clenching our stomach muscles, or launching into the silent treatment, are just of the ways we shut down. It never fixes anything or makes us feel better long term. It’s an understandable reflex, but it has to be compassionately monitored. We have to know that we can feel safe without it. We have to know we don’t have to bounce in order to self preserve. Staying open in life is so crucial. A close mind is an unhappy one, same with a closed heart. A closed, stiff body physically hurts. So many people I know speak of waking up in the morning with clenched fists. Prying open their innocent fingers is the first thing they do upon waking. I woke up like that for many years. Even in sleep, the conditioning to shut down takes over.

Last week, someone important to me said something that wounded me. My reflex was to ignore this person. I am an expert at ignoring, blocking, and deleting, sometimes to a fault. That decision has served me well many times, but I can be rash. I noticed the physical sensations in my body from a purely observational standpoint, as I have been taught to do in meditation. No opinions, just noticing. Stomach is tight, heart feels closed, feeling sad, feeling misunderstood. Just noticing and making a mental list. Exploring the sad feeling of being misunderstood, which goes back forever. Acknowledging the pain in that. Validating it. Realizing that this particular person seems to generally see me clearly, so perhaps my reflexes to ignore are coming from the past. Knowing that my goal is to be closer to this person, not get further away, and that shutting down will not support that goal. Breathing through the clenching, telling myself it’s all ok, it is all part of this experience. Since the dawn of time, humans have misunderstood each other. This is just one of those times. It can pass if handled skillfully. Human interactions are often far less personal than we jump to assume they are. It’s an opportunity for me to fight to stay open, to override the shut down reflexes that have protected me in the past. I don’t need that sort of protection anymore. I can handle it, whatever it is. It was hard for me, but I was honest about all of this. We talked, it led to a deeper emotional intimacy, as is often the outcome. We can’t let people in if we are closed off to our own experience. To shut down might protect, but it will also rob you of the chance to allow the right stuff in. The right people will want you to stay open, and support you in your struggle for presence. Never fear honesty; see it as a litmus test for who can handle your stuff. Above all, know your stuff isn’t you. It’s passing phenomena. Stay open so that in can come out the other end of the way it entered. Stay open, even if you have to claw yourself apart. Create space, send breath through that space, and unclench. Pause. Don’t run, don’t check out. Your thoughts can’t hurt you. Let whatever it is wash over you and then through you. It is one of the great human battles, to remain spacious. And it leads to the greatest emotional victories. It’s always worth the commitment and effort.

Emojis as Boundaries 🙅🏼‍♀️

Boundaries are something most humans really struggle with. Defining them, understanding them, setting them, knowing we deserve them, and then dealing with all the feels involved. For codependent empathic types, who have been trained to self betray to serve someone else, boundaries are terrifying. We (yes, I’m in da club) have to swim oceans to first understand what boundaries even are, so accustomed are we to chopping ourselves into pieces for others. Then come the ravines full of guilt; feeling like a horrible, selfish person in setting them. Boundaries are really acts of love, to both ourselves and to the one we are in relationship with. Setting them protects the dynamic and allows it to continue without resentment. But codependent empathic types don’t understand what acts of self love really are. We were so deeply programmed that our own stuff doesn’t matter. We were taught to give, serve, deliver, perform, and manage the emotions and expectations of those around us. A lack of boundaries leads to a staggering level of corrosive resentment. Boundaries are scary AF, especially for those of us who were always criticized and rejected for attempting to speak up on our own behalf. Am I a terrible, selfish person? Maybe they’re right; I only think of myself. It’s all my fault. What’s the big deal if I just (fill in the blank) to keep the peace? These are just some of the neurotically reactive thoughts that can come up while setting boundaries. My favorite is when people self betray to “take the high road”. It sounds like self righteous BS as a guise for wimping out. It’s the mind’s way of convincing that it’s ok to deny the self again, since it’s for the greater good. It’s always a recipe for resentment, as well as shame in ignoring our own needs yet again.

 Many of us have a lot of extraneous relationships in our lives. I personally do not, but it took awhile to get to this place. I truly only engage with whom I want to, but almost everyone I knows struggles with these kinds of unnecessary connections. This is how emojis can really help you with beginning to set boundaries. I’m not referring to the chief relationships in our lives. Our partner, our children, our best friends, and close family members deserve our wise attention. Those relationships are on our top shelf, and must be handled with love and care, for the sake of all parties involved (including us). However, when it comes to the presences in our lives that we could probably live without and don’t enjoy that much, emojis are a tool available to avoid invasive, annoying questions, dumb, offensive comments, and nosy inquiries. Emojis are fun and there are so many of them‼️ Why not utilize modern technology to help us set and maintain boundaries ⁉️ This is a conservation of energy. It’s not an excuse to wimp out on real boundary setting. Rather, it’s a skillful discernment about where to expend our energy and efforts. Boundaries are hard enough; don’t waste your precious energetic reserves on every intrusive person floating around your world. A lot of people have a tough time simply not answering. This is how emojis can help you go down a road you do not want to travel, if ignoring is too much for you. You do not have to answer questions you don’t want to. You don’t ever have to explain yourself to the bored yenta, who needs a distraction from her own reality. Your business is yours to share with whom you choose to and when. If you need permission to self preserve via ignoring or emoji use, I’m giving it to you. I very much understand that need for permission, when being true to ourselves is foreign or new.

Some ways to try emojis to self preserve:

In response to that annoying question.

when you want to make it clear you will not discuss this right now.

In response to passive aggressive comments. Show them you’re too cool to be  affected by their foolishness.

If you don’t want to engage in gossip.

If it’s late enough where you can feign exhaustion and bounce.

To combat whining. The dancing girl    comes in handy in negative, ironic    situations. She can symbolize “good times”.

This classic can easily address that evil  question, “how are you?”. Perhaps the  asker doesn’t mean badly, but you don’t feel  like answering such a loaded question. Your  life and what you choose to divulge about it  is ALWAYS YOUR CHOICE. ALWAYS.

I see you if this is uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Most of us were never taught to honor and protect ourselves. You spent an arm and a leg on the iPhone, you may as well use it to serve you emotionally, since it’s your constant companion anyway.

“Siri, tell the person calling I never liked them to begin with”.

Beautifully Brave

There’s a line in Untamed by Glennon Doyle that I love. It’s something I have seen before in other contexts, and I love being reminded of it. She writes, “The braver I am, the luckier I get.” Yes, yes, and yes! A couple of years ago I read a quote to that effect on Instagram. It was about how so often we are scared to jump off a cliff, only to realize we’ve landed on a featherbed. Nature rewards courage, is the message. I was struck when I read that, and I have lived according to that promise from nature. Doyle’s sentiment was an affirmation of how bravery and chutzpah, despite our fears, will land us in the right places. It’s an amazing reward for soldiering on while consumed with doubt and trepidation. No one is telling you to not be scared or to suppress your feelings; that’s cruel and unnatural. But the encouraging message here is supportive and reassuring. It doesn’t mean we will get our fixed desired outcome. But it means follow your heart and swing for the fences. If you fall flat on your face, ok. Not the end of the world. Since man has walked the earth, he has sometimes felt like a giant asshole. It’s something we all go through; don’t take your foibles so seriously. Fear of failure, rejection, embarrassment; all very real and scary. Whatever it is, do it anyway. It’s better to try, than to live with the corrosive shame in not honoring yourself and living your truths.

Things that have frightened me to my core:
    Getting divorced
    Going to DJ school
    Starting Lady Blaga
    Social media
    New relationships
    Parasailing
    Zip lining

These are just some examples. Each of our lives are comprised of thousands of scary details. I can tell you from from own experiences, that the things I was most afraid of have put me in all the right places. Once I pushed past the dragons guarding the gates, I entered into soft realms full of welcoming spaciousness and possibility. I felt loved, mostly by myself. That’s the secret to bravery; it’s an act of self love that immediately draws in more love from the universe. We allow for gifts to touch us by telling those dragons to get out of our way. I mean, how scary is childbirth??? It gives us the best gifts imaginable. To be brave is to be vulnerable and raw, otherwise it’s often a form of denial. To pretend like nothing is bothering you is false bravery. To know you’d rather crawl back into a cave but venture out anyway is the real stuff.
 As I’m faced with new situations and possibilities, damn right I’m scared.  But I refuse to let the “what if’s” control my life. I’m living proof that nature rewards courage. The more dark, unfamiliar paths I travel, the more I see the world I’m meant to live in. I see your fear. I hear your doubts and reservations. I know that whatever it is you’re afraid of tackling, will be met with support and guidance. Failure and rejection are redirection. We were built to jump and designed to land.
Sending love and admiration as you bravely walk your individual paths. Don’t let fear conquer you; let IT watch YOU conquer your story.

Take Heed

In the Soto Zen Buddhist tradition, that I began to learn exactly a year ago on a silent retreat, I was so moved by the nightly Evening Gatha. One of my teachers bellowed this in his deep baritone every night before bedtime. I loved the words but thought it was something he made up. He didn’t; it’s been recited nightly by zen practitioners over 2,000 years. There isn’t much for me to say, since the words and message speak for themselves. It’s plain truth; each time we go to bed for the night, our lives are indeed decreased by one day. How did we spend that day? Just getting through it? Doing errands? Did we spend it at a job we love? With people we love who love us back? Did we make the past 24 hours count by widening our impact, even just by a little? There are so many questions but really one answer. We gotta make it count or there’s no point. This gatha is recited to wake us up before we go to sleep. Take heed, don’t squander your life. Just don’t. I love you.

Death Becomes Her

Death is everywhere. It was always obviously there, but it is simply unavoidable today for so many reasons. Denial won’t hide us any longer. With this deadly, scarily contagious virus and all the terrifying deaths of Blacks and trans people lately, death is a constant topic. Going about “normal” life isn’t possible at the moment. We can’t cower under the comfortable blanket of routine and pretend like uncomfortable topics don’t exist. I don’t mind this. In the Zen center that I belong to in New York City, we discuss death all the time. During covid I have taken a number of virtual programs and classes all centering on death. What it entails, how to prepare for it practically, emotionally, and mentally, and how we want our bodies to be handled once we no longer inhabit them. In one of my classes, Living Fearlessly, we had to write our own obituaries and research the advanced directives for our respective states. In March, a cousin of mine advised me to designate my health care proxy. I didn’t know what that even meant at the time. I did choose one, spoke to him about it, and had him sign all the paperwork with his family as witnesses a few weeks ago. One of my lockdown summer goals is to finalize all of my death plans, and put together my dharma box containing all my instructions and desires. I’ll make copies to give to close friends. I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time, but if this pandemic has taught us anything it’s that only uncertainty is certain.

As I’ve written in the past, one of the gnawings of my first inner shift began years ago, unbeknownst to me, when every eulogy sounded the same to me at the funerals I attended. It was shocking; different people all going down with the same trite, depressingly unoriginal sentiments. It truly terrified me; would this drivel be said at my funeral too?? Would anyone, even those claiming to be closest to me, really know what to say about me in a eulogy?? What kind of lives are being “lived” if the bodies of the deceased are being laid to rest with a template of the blandest farewell speech imaginable? I was gripped with fear about this and I didn’t see a way out of that at the time. Where I sit now, I no longer have this fear. I have reworked and reshaped my life to one that’s true and authentic to my soul. My life keeps widening as my heart and mind expand as well. I have created a life that’s interesting and unique, one that should easily produce a kick ass eulogy. One of my friends told me last week that she hopes she goes before me so that I can speak at her funeral. I’m actually a real speech snob. I’m going to assign my eulogizers so that my funeral isn’t filled with lame, boring speeches that have people checking their watches. Who knows if I’ll hear it, but this is part of arranging how you want to be memorialized. You get to make these decisions. I get to make these decisions. It feels like such a loving process, a way to honor myself and my deepest spiritual needs. The more I am taught by my teachers to befriend death, the less scary it feels. Since the opposite of fear is love, that means that this process naturally comes to feel loving and caring towards myself. Death has morphed from being this horrible thing that I must avoid at all costs, to this inevitable truth that I can meet with grace. I mean, we all know it’s coming yet we refuse to deal with it in a healthy way. One of my teachers put it like this, “ death makes life sparkly and golden. It reminds us how magnificent this life is. Death teaches us how to live.”  I love how she put this, so elegantly and gracefully. And it’s true. The more fully I can approach death, the more fully I approach actual life. It’s a reminder to make each moment full and alive. No one expects all their moments to be happy, that’s impossible. But the goal is to see how we can dive deeper into each moment and meet it and its contents with honesty and appreciation. To ride each breath, to savor each sip, to see each lesson. To live well is to love well. To do both of those is to die well. And who doesn’t want to do that?

I have concluded that it’s ok if I don’t want to be laid to rest in a typical Jewish cemetery. That if I get a tattoo I won’t be rejected by said cemetery (that’s a farce, btw. Many Israelis are inked to the max and are accepted just fine). I have concluded it’s ok to have my funeral list written out, so that only those close to me or that I like can attend. I don’t need fake crocodile tears from abusive relatives or neighbors who didn’t like me while I was alive. I have concluded that it’s ok if my burial ceremony isn’t conducted by a rabbi who doesn’t know me. No rules, no givens, all choice. Loving action directed inward is what becomes loving action directed outward to those around us. Respecting our choices allows us to respect the choices of others. How can we be of service to others leaving this life when we can’t do that for ourselves?

I made my death shroud for my final Zen Foundations program project. It took ten hours, a California king size sheet, and fabric markers. I had to present it to my class and teachers. It wound up being a sort of spiritual road map for my kids, full Of teachings, quotes, and knowledge that changed my life. Things I’ve learned that cracked open my heart and soul, all leading to a richer life that I’m so proud of. I learned these things on my own, guided by Source to so many wonderful teachers over the years. I hope I have many decades to add to my shroud, and that I’ll leave my children and loved ones with this treasure trove of information and inspiration. At that point I’ll just be a messenger. The way we live determines what our message is, both to ourselves and to those we leave behind in human form. We have only this chance to create our message and live by it. One birth, one death. Billions of choices and chances in between. How we live really, really matters. We aren’t here to coast and kill time. We are here to accomplish and enhance. To contribute, create, support, and enrich. To love, laugh, and have a kick ass time doing it. We have no choice in death, but we do in how we approach it. If we can embrace it, then we can embrace anything.

LATE CHECKOUT

There wasn’t a meal or a thought I didn’t want to share with him. Our thought process, speech, and hyper analytical notice of every surrounding detail was eerily in sync. Beyond those few initial dates, we eventually settled into a farce of a friendship. That was all he offered and I took it, so terrified to not have him in my life in some way. It was farcical in the sense that I, of course, didn’t want to be just friends. My therapist kicked my ass on that point one day. He knew that and gave me the choice, saying many times he was terrified of hurting me. There are two reasons men say that; it’s a bandaid for not returning your feelings or it’s true. I can’t say what he was thinking, though I’d guess 25% the former and 75% the latter. When we did hang out it was always really great, full of endless conversation, tons of laughs, and deep curiosities about a range of topics. We loved talking about books, articles, and movies. He often came to me for advice about important issues, which fed into my rabid need to be needed. I didn’t care how objectively unhealthy the topics were (analyzing his ex wife’s behavior till the cows came home) as long as we were in contact. When you are a giver who has never modeled healthy boundaries, you have to be really careful about how you expend your energy. Boundaries as a concept to me equated selfish walls, since I grew up in an emotionally chaotic, anarchistic home that had zero. If you said no to anything, you were automatically a selfish asshole. My parents treated me like that well into adulthood, until I shut that down. My marriage wasn’t the type of environment to have boundaries either. Truthfully, I see very little boundaries in general amongst the couples I know. A religious environment full of rules and roles often puts women in the race for biggest martyr. Selfless gets you the trophy where I’m from. Now I see that as rampant, chronic self neglect that causes oceans of resentment. Any time a woman wants something purely for herself it is seen as selfish. Therefore, even if there would be a pit in my stomach (my personal control center) while discussing certain things with him, I’d ignore it. I had no idea how to put the brakes on.

Another reason I was so “in love” with him was because he saw me completely. This is a fact. I have been aware of the humanly universal need to feel seen from a very early age. I remember asking teenage boyfriends why they liked me. I knew why but I was testing them. I wanted to hear them spell it out. They all failed, except one whom I didn’t have to ask because I knew he knew. When in love, the need to ask and be answered lessens, because the truth of how the other person sees you is clear. No test required. I believe to this day that this person sized me up instantly. He’s very smart and deep, a quick study (just not with himself). Every bozo tells me “they see me”, but they are fooling themselves by believing that. Perhaps it’s just a lame line.  I wasn’t fooled, since I know there is a lot to see in me and they never came close. I went to him too when I was having a hard time with certain things. He’d listen well, make me laugh, and comfort me. I received his advice and concern because it was genuine and his vision into my process was real. There were some wonderful elements of friendship there.

The night we met contained an unusual level of honesty for a first date. I used to have a tendency to over share too early, another unhealthy reach for connection driven by emotional addictive codependency, but this was different. Talking to him was as natural and easy as breathing. We once hung out with a third person who had thought we grew up together. She was surprised it had been only a little over a year that we knew each other. My Spanish speaking housekeeper once saw us talking for five minutes and described it as “simpatico”. Feeling so in sync with another person is it’s own type of fog inducing drug. Mix that with infatuation, throw in some loneliness, and you have yourself one potent cocktail that will rob you of the ability to see red flags. They could be 100 feet tall and wide, flapping in the wind, and you will just not see them. It’s a fascinating mental phenomenon. That when our neurotransmitters are all fired up, and we are foaming at the mouth in search of that fix, we become selectively blind. I guess it’s hypocritical of me to say that he saw others so clearly but not himself; I did the same thing. I had no handle on myself when it came to him. That self loathsome shame spiral we go down when we send that text against all judgement, is not reserved for adolescents. The part of me that knew better and wanted to not need it was at war with the addiction. Logic and dignity lost every time. This produces deep shame, and shame is a corrosive emotion when it’s not faced head on. I have mentioned her before, but Dr Nicole LaPera, the holistic psychologist on Instagram helped me learn/unlearn all of this. That, together, with my Jungian zen Buddhist program, taught me how to deal with my thoughts and emotions on the most inner level. I found this book in hindsight, but “The Wisdom of a Broken Heart” by Buddhist meditation teacher Susan Piver also explained a lot. She said the most wonderful thing; that once love is liberated from its object then it is unbound. It flows free and everywhere. This is true. By removing all of that intensity from this person, I directed it back to me, which then caused so much in my life to multiply and flourish. My creativity exploded. My DJing improved dramatically. I poured my soul into a nationwide charity give back during lockdown. I became a better parent; my kids had a compartmentalized mother for too long. Everything just felt more juicy and lush. All the feelings that had been bound to him were oozing into the other parts of my life.

Susan Piver is found on Instagram under her name. I promise you, if you are reading this and suffering from heartbreak, you are not alone. There are tools to help you. The worst thing you can do is pretend you don’t care, that you’re over it, and to wrestle with the stock ticker of thoughts you’re having about this person. Don’t deny your heart the beauty of shattering. The best things are rebuilt after they are blasted clean. Crack open, and let the shrapnel land where it will. This is a very human event. It’s natural. Don’t fight with nature, you won’t win. The painful bursting of your heart will create space for the right one. It’s a transformation and a hatching. It’s a rebirth, but only if you learn from it. Radical honesty is required, as is radical compassion for yourself. Buddhist teacher Tara Brach’s book “Radical Acceptance” saved me during this time. It taught me from the ground up how to recognize a thought and a feeling, hold it lovingly, investigate it, and nurture my soul throughout. Her method is RAIN: recognize, allow, investigate, and nurture. Never had I experienced such loving kindness AND IT WAS COMING FROM ME. What a magnificent revelation. How could I possibly identify loving kindness coming from another if I don’t know what it looks like on the most sacred of inner levels? Now I know. I have been practicing for quite some time. I came to this because of him. This is huge. After a long time of studying emotional intelligence and deepening my spiritual practices, I was able to demonstrate self respect and extract myself from our unhealthy dynamic. It was time to integrate all I’d learned. Otherwise, there’s no point. It was time to test out alignment and do the hard thing. At a certain point self betrayal feels scarier than losing someone. This is an excellent sign of growth. He was surprised and seemed annoyed. I had never said no to him and he took great comfort in our connection. My life will never be the same because I’m not the same. I am changing and flowing according to the laws of nature. I am earth, strong and solid, but a small child can run my soft dirt through his chubby fingers. I am water, fiercely rising up as a tsunami or cooling your drink as an ice cube on a summer day. I am air, gusty or breezy, giving you breath and life. I am the fire that can burn a house down or warm you on a winter night as you watch Netflix. The nature of the heart, like nature as a whole, is extreme. It changes, expands, contracts, ebbs, and flows. The pain of heartbreak is visceral; it deserves attention, kindness, and patience. If you let it it will teach you trust, even if only because you will lose your mind if you don’t believe that something right for you is waiting on the other side of this emotional ravine. Surrendering to the pain and uncertainty is a direct message to the universe. It says you are ready to partner with it for your greatest and highest good. That base of trust is a gift you’ll give yourself for life. Pain isn’t a punishment; it’s proof you are ready for greater. Olympians don’t win medals by skipping rigorous training. It’s an honor to receive such a lesson, though a dubious one. If you are forced to learn the lesson of a heartbreak so painful you feel it will break you, let it. Piecing yourself together will give you an unknown strength that’s been inside you forever. You are the tree trunk. You aren’t going to be uprooted no matter how hard the branches shake. I use a tree meditation that I love, as well as a water one. Let nature remind you of your ability to withstand all seasons. Change and growth are your birthright. This won’t kill you, I promise. And it really will make you stronger.

The astrologist I work with, Elaine Ziner, is usually quite private, but she truly loves helping people peel back the layers to step into their power. My relationship with her is very sacred to me, the details of which I hold close. Elaine can be reached on Instagram at elaine_ziner Her Sovereign Mastery podcast on Spotify has also helped me a great deal.

Heartbreak Hotel

There’s no other way to say this; my heart was put through a meat grinder 2 years ago. I have never experienced heartbreak like that. It was an all consuming pain that was physical, as well as emotional and mental. Only during this period of global lockdown, when the entire world was given a chance to scrape itself clean and reset, was I able to finally wriggle out of this particular straight jacket. Recently my friend, who is also one of my chosen sisters and a magical astrologist, saw a photo of me and commented, “You clearly have sloughed off a lot”. We hadn’t spoken in awhile but it was clear to her without my saying a word. It’s true, my aura is lighter, cleaner, more pure. I feel more intact and aligned than ever before. The past two years were torture. They were also the biggest act of love Source could have done for me. I would not trade them for anything, and I am not just saying that in hindsight. I always knew that whether I was going to wind up with him, which I thought for a very long time, or someone else, that this specific pain was more purposeful than I was meant to understand. I hated every minute but it was impossible to resist it. I loved this person and it just was what it was. I accepted that as fact.

Ego: Do not write this. Want me to list the reasons, Dummy?
Spirit: All good:). Let her do her thing. She knows what to do when she feels at peace.

Now there are deeper cosmic and spiritual elements at play here, but that’s for another time. I feel like writing now about the countless nights I cried myself to sleep, the physical ache of feeling like a limb had been torn from me, the times I’d talk to him when I was alone, the sheer terror that would paralyze me when I thought he wouldn’t be in my life, the heavy dread that I felt when I didn’t hear from him, and the inexplicable highs I felt when I did. Sound like love? No? That’s because it is emotional addiction. I recall a time where I was in an Uber with my daughter, and I got a text from him and I burst into tears. So flooded was I with the crack high from getting my fix that my body just sprung a leak. My daughter, wise beyond her years, took my hand and squeezed it, and said she understood. She was kind and supportive. I didn’t even know I needed that in that moment. I didn’t know I needed that until recently in general, so unfamiliar are those two qualities.
 There haven’t been many, but I have met a few men the past few years since getting divorced. All came and went, all unknowingly taught me something about how to keep leveling up. They rarely cross my mind, and if they do it’s met with an ugh, an eye roll, and a thank you Jesus. This man was different, very much so because of my cryptic mention of those cosmic and spiritual elements. But also because I had never come across someone that good looking, that funny, that smart, and that talented before. All terribly human qualities that are objectively spellbinding. I have yet to meet a chick who wants someone ugly, dumb, and boring. I feel badly that I suspect that to this day he thinks I fell for him because he was an emotional project. This is partially true; I was a hot mess (though I did not know that) and a lot of our issues were mirrored. I was ahead of him in the divorce timeline and I had done quite a bit of spiritual work. It’s so embarrassing to think of all the ridiculous advice and guidance I gave. He loved it though. When he drank from my trough of dime store wisdom I felt like the luckiest, most special faucet in the world. I wanted to help, fix, teach, guide, all unhealthy things unhealthy people do in order to feel needed, valuable, and nurturing. It’s much easier to nurture others than to nurture ourselves. Deeply sensitive, codependent empaths like myself will give and give and give. We do not know when to stop. I also wanted to clean him up for the obvious, selfish reason that he’d then wake up and see the light that we are meant to be together.

Ego: Stop. This is social suicide. What if he reads this??
Spirit: Shhhhh, relax. If he does, ok. If he doesn’t, ok. Let it be.

Meeting him was like being hit by an asteroid. Even the name of the place we met held meaning (I can find symbolism anywhere. It often just adds to the confusion). I immediately felt like it was love at first sight, that unicorn love I remain certain I’m destined for. From where I stand now, clear and strong, I can know that while there were indeed seeds of gold planted that night, my being was lit up because my nervous system had been fully highjacked and activated. I am an excellent first date. I look nice, am fun, make good conversation, etc. Unless I’m instantly miserable and looking for an escape route, which has happened a couple times, my first dates generally go well. This was unlike anything I have yet to experience. I remember every detail, and have spent the past two years replaying them in my mind. It has taken this whole time to be able to hold the memory gently and well, and know that it was just that; a memory. This person was the biggest catalyst in my growth. I define my life as before and after him. Cosmically, there are certain people who get delivered to us in order to bring up all the warring shadows that have welded themselves to our psyches and subconscious. We can only face, tend to, and work with that which rises to the surface. This man did that for me. It had to be him, in his spectacular package of various components. Maybe I wasn’t getting the message on my own (probably not), so Source had to hit me over the head by introducing us at this time. It knew I was ready to advance but it had to put me through the toughest emotional boot camp first. I did not volunteer for this, but without it I’d still be consumed with shadows and demons. Man, I always tried but I was just outnumbered and ill equipped. I remember the night we met, in the Uber home, that I was practically convulsing with fear I’d never hear from him again. After. One. Date. Granted, it was the date of the century, but still; he was a stranger (in the human sense...). To allow myself to be rendered non functioning as soon as we kissed goodbye was not healthy. Again, I thought it meant love because love to me was always chaotic, unattainable, unsure, unreliable, inconsistent. And painful. So when the pain fully set in after knowing we wouldn’t be a couple, I was unable to recognize that love is actually not painful. It’s the opposite, in that it is peaceful. After we parted/he pursued me then dropped me on my ass in midtown Manhattan on a Friday afternoon (I was wearing suuuuuuccchhh a pretty Isabelle Marant outfit), I could not breathe. For a very long time. I was totally miserable. I’d talk to anyone with ears about this, another tell tale sign of emotional addiction. One time in therapy, I spent the whole session talking about him. Not him in relation to me, but like, what he eats for lunch. That type of bullshit. My therapist looked at me and said, “so are we going to talk about you today or just this guy?”.

Ego: Ok, now I’m begging you.
Spirit: Nah, vulnerability and honesty is vital. This is what humans are meant to do.

Speaking of the aforementioned astrologer, I met her when I was in the throes of this addiction. I sat down at her chart reading table at a party I was DJing at. I said nothing except my birthday. She looked at my chart for a minute and said, “Something major happened to you 8 months ago. Something that changed you”. Again, tears. It had been 8 months exactly since we’d met. I could not believe I was meeting someone who I could really talk to about this, not just in the way my friends and I spoke about it. The things she explained, and there were many, made me feel not crazy for the first time since he and I met. Again, Source sent me someone to explain what I could not (classic Source). My friends reacted to this whole scenario in various ways. My tough love friend, in her staccato, blunt delivery was like, “over and out. Move on. He sounds like a dysfunctional mess. He’s not offering you anything anyway. Byeeeeee”. Boom, pow, punch. Some of them, the ones who want what I want no matter what, held onto the belief alongside me that it wasn’t the right time, but that one day it will be. That it will happen, and that when it does it will be even more powerful and special. None of us believe that anymore, based on a number of truths. It has been so liberating to be able to let go of that story. Anytime we drop any story, even the good ones, we float higher. When we remain tethered to any narrative we limit ourselves. We block possibility by clinging to specifics and wanting to control the outcome. It never works.

I am very well aware of how honed I became from having his asteroid crash into my planet. I am truly grateful. I became a better writer, since he often read the blog and I wanted to seem clever and impress him (note to self: if a man doesn’t read your writing then your mind is of no interest). My bank of musical knowledge expanded since he’s a musical prodigy and taught me a lot. I was so desperately sad and shame filled from being addicted to him that I had to learn to manage that. This led me to deepen my spiritual practice a million fold, and now I have this incredible tool kit to self regulate, love, and trust the process. My body became better because in the event he and I ever got together again, I needed to be ready. I’d literally be dying on the SLT megaformer and thinking that this will be worth it when...

Ego: I give up.
Spirit: Hooray!

Meeting him led me to be shaking in the chair at the astrologer’s table. The work I have done with her has been utterly transformative. It led me to go into past lives that explain a helluva lot. It also helped me understand the psychic visions I’ve had of him, which turned out to be accurate. I brought them to him at the beginning, and he told me I’m a prophet. I have never had such clear visions of another person. That alone taught me worlds about myself and the human ability to connect to the unseen. This knowledge of trusting in the secret, intangible forces at work that always sustain us has catapulted me into other quantum dimensions. My meditations are deeper. My powers of manifestation are stronger. I also learned, on a human level, what I want and deserve in a partner. For example, damn right I need someone gorgeous, hilarious,musical, tall, and with good hair. It’s so important to know what qualities lead to major attraction. I’m not talking about superficial attraction that is a distraction from toxicity, but in a physically interpersonal way. We can have anything we want if we believe that.

Universe knew that in order for me to learn what love is, I also had to go through a very painful curriculum of what it’s not. This curriculum gave me a crash course the moment he crashed into me. My heart needed to be broken so that I could collect all it’s millions of pieces and put it back together. By myself, slowly, carefully, with the attention and gentleness it needs and deserves. My life has always been a series of extremes, which is why what is waiting for me will be wonderful. We draw in what we are, like an energetic boomerang. Since I am a different version of myself since I met him two years ago, and since I had to get really sick in order to become really healthy, I can now draw in the same. My meditations and mantras on love look very different now. Love is exciting and all encompassing, but it also flows like a steady stream. It’s reliable, consistent, it gives and receives with grace. We don’t take from it, we draw from it. It is truly your best friend. It is a wellspring of peace and well being, even when it’s challenging. It doesn’t overtake your nervous system. Love, whether it’s from Source, a friend, a lover, a pet, nature, music, yoga, or a child, should feel like the most delicious, quenching, supportive, pure, honest, safest space. It’s not your foundation, that’s your job. But it will never abandon you. It will never blow you off when you reach out in a pandemic.
I think of him every day. It took me a long time to be ok with that and not fight it. The thoughts are there but they aren’t weighed down with heavy emotions and expectations. I have no idea if he thinks of me and that’s fine. His process is his own. I send him peace and meta all the time. I actually mean it. I wonder if he feels something at 3:34 pm if I shower him with golden light at that time. I hope he’s doing the work he so wanted to do, for his own sake and not mine. That would be conditional, and love is not conditional.   
Thank you, Source, for loving me enough to allow me to hurt in order to heal. Now go find me a funny Jew with creativity and hair.

Ego: Maybe just take what is offered to you so you’re not alone.
Spirit:STFU

I Can’t Breathe

The conversations most worth having are the hardest ones. The topics that activate our flight instinct are the ones that demand that we stay in our discomfort, so that we can learn to practice through our fear and resistance. Most often, what we resist facing is exactly what is needed to grow; they’re called growing pains for a reason. The topic of race is such a difficult one, and right now our entire country is emotionally ablaze with it. It is on my mind all day, as is the case for the majority of the country, following the murder of George Floyd by a White policeman. George Floyd’s tragic and infuriating death at the hand of those tasked with protecting and saving us, was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back. After a long string of undeserved, unfair, and unwarranted Black deaths at the hands of White law, Floyd’s desperate cries of “I can’t breathe” while a White cop kneeled on his neck, literally squeezing the life out of him, became a metaphor for suffocation of an entire race. I know that on one hand there is only one race, the human race, but on the other hand people are indeed different colors that all must be seen and honored. One of the things I have humbly learned during this time is that People of Color don’t really want us to “not see color”. They wish for the world to absolutely recognize their color and it’s implications; what they want is for it to be honored and not held against them. To ignore their color is to ignore the suffering and pain they have endured. To ignore their color is to not give credit to what their cultures have contributed to the rich landscape of humanity. From a musical perspective alone, could I ever ignore the fact that Black culture birthed hip hop? Of course not. To deny that would be to discredit the unique genius, suffering, joy, and passion behind it. I am so proud of important Jewish figures who have contributed to society; it would bother me for someone to strip away that credit and acknowledgement. The goal isn’t to BE the same, but it must be to be TREATED the same. And right now that is sadly not the case. The residual effects of the despicable slavery system, in which Blacks were believed to be inherently inferior, still linger, even amongst well meaning, kind people. The problem doesn’t really lie with the small pockets of idiotic KKK groups. No one normal is listening to them. The problem continues as a result of majority of “good” society members unconsciously perpetuating destructive beliefs. During this time of uncomfortable and shameful education, I have realized I have been guilty of certain ignorances too. It is very hard for me, due to my own deep cultural conditioning, to not see the world through a Jewish lens. Sometimes I can and sometimes I can’t. Sometimes I want to and sometimes I don’t. When the topic of race comes up, I get very reactive. Anti Semitic behavior is a fact of Jewish life. I don’t even expect differently, which is sad for many reasons. One of those reasons is that defending Jewish lives will never be popular or trendy. No Instagram account will ever likely “take a week off” to educate themselves on Jewish suffering and mistreatment. Jews are killed ALL THE TIME. The world is always silent. When these incidents occur at the hands of broken madmen, not at the hands of the police, none of my non Jewish friends reach out to me. When I post an emotional message on Yom HaShoa about how my whole family was killed in the Holocaust, my POC friends don’t comment or acknowledge it. I never even noticed until recently, because as previously stated, I don’t expect it. Jews have always been alone. Just like there is this messed up view about other cultures being inferior, so too is there this ignorant belief that all Jews are rich and don’t need support. Oh, not only do we not need help, but we have apparently been the cause of most of the world’s problems. Let’s just say that ridiculous belief about all of us being wealthy were true (I can’t dignify this with further explanation). Would that mean that outrage isn’t called for when one of us is brutally attacked and murdered? Does that mean that we don’t merit the support of allies/rallies/ hashtags/ protests/ news/social media? Racism comes in many forms. To declare oneself anti racist is to include ALL races. A true lover of all of humanity doesn’t get to pick and choose who they defend. Truthfully, I can think of a lot of folks now who are militantly enraged about the senseless deaths of George Floyd and Breanna Taylor, AS THEY SHOULD BE. But these same people were silent when several Jews were gunned down innocently grocery shopping in New Jersey, our own backyard. Or when a gunman opened fire in that synagogue in Philadelphia last year, killing many. Jews were sad and shaken, but not one of my DJ friends skipped a beat on their Instagram accounts. It was business as usual, as is always the case when a Jew is killed. If it even makes it into the media, and that’s a huge if, it doesn’t seem to land with a mass thud. I don’t know how not to resent this. Maybe I don’t have to, and the challenge is to hold that while honoring the suffering of Blacks now. Our suffering being met with apathy doesn’t mean they don’t deserve my bleeding heart right now and always. While I understand that these antisemitic acts were carried about by private citizens and not police,  we should all stand united regardless of the details. Anytime someone is brutality killed on American soil we must react.  Hate is hate.I have been gathering and channeling my rage, resentment, and Jewish frustration this week. I have vowed to do what I can to never let another group of people feel the way Jews have felt throughout all of history. You don’t know aloneness until you have stood in the hollowed out shell of a gas chamber, tracing claw marks with your fingers, picturing people exactly like you begging bricks to help them breathe. There was no #icantbreathe in a gas chamber in a concentration camp, and not just because social media wasn’t yet a thing. Those atrocities took place in the middle of cities, while those safe and unaffected were chilling as usual. The words “people” and “smokestacks” do not belong together. The world is basically just as silent now as it was then, as it was during the many other times in history when one fearful lunatic tried to eliminate every single one of us from the face of the earth. Not that long ago, there were meetings in ornate banquet halls on how to solve The Jewish Question, that question being, “how do we get rid of them?”. To this day, when my kids walk to synagogue on Shabbat my heart is in my throat. A Kippah is a bullseye to me. I distinctly recall walking to my own synagogue as a child, in my white sweater and black Mary Janes, hearing teenagers speed by screaming, “Hitler should have gotten the rest of you!”. Yes, I “can pass” as I have been told by my POC friends, but Jews in overtly religious dress cannot. An ultra Orthodox Jew is recognized from space (those baseball hats fool no one). No one should have to avoid religious garb to save their life. During WW2 Jews that were hidden were always in danger of being checked for circumcision; a bris back then was the kiss of death.

One of the things I’ve been working on for many months, especially now, is to not make this about me and my lens. To not allow my own racial suffering to take over the current narrative. This time is about Blacks needing to feel that they matter, and that their lives are seen as beautiful and valuable. In thinking of being able to pass due to my white skin, I have had to admit that I can. In regard to my prior point about Jews that were hidden in gentile homes by the few gentiles willing to do so (some out of kindness, some out of making money off it, some who used Jewish children as slaves), I have also admitted that Blacks cannot get away with that. They cannot be concealed. They don’t have the privilege of passing. If one wants to harm them, they are entirely visible. And though Jews often face brutal anti Semitic acts, we aren’t followed around  in stores or wrongly accused of crimes. People don’t shrink when we enter elevators, or cross the street when we walk alongside them. Policemen don’t kneel on our necks in broad daylight, snuffing the life out of us as we cry for help in public. And if they did, our armies of lawyers and judges would rise up immediately. We can get away with defending ourselves in a way Black people can’t. These are all very sad realities that must be faced under glaring lights. This new level of awareness must be honestly studied and used as cause for action. I don’t see myself as the average White person, since I am a minority too. But the world sees a White woman and that comes with major responsibility right now. I have always said to my kids, when they are uncomfortable on Holocaust Remembrance Day, that six million souls who perished deserve our tears. Not only is it ok to cry, but it is our duty. I will now apply that same level of empathy to others, more than I ever have before, as that same duty to any member of the human race. Yes, we are magnificently different, but underneath all the human stuff we are exactly the same. We all were built to breathe. As one who has a regular mediation practice, I spend a great deal of time focusing on the profound gift of breath. Floyd’s pleas to breathe were denied by someone who had no right to take his inhales and exhales away. To inhale and exhale is the greatest physical gift. Breath is life. It is a physical, spiritual, mental, and emotional act all at once. When I am actually able to luxuriate in my own breath I feel like I can conquer the world but that I don’t even need to. To breathe is simply enough. George Floyd could not have chosen more impactful last words. Those words started a much needed movement. What they represent is life itself. “ I can’t breathe” means “I can’t live”, and no, Blacks must not have to live a moment longer in a society that gives them subpar treatment. Their cries to matter are heartbreaking. The fact that there was a need for the Black Lives Matter movement is heartbreaking. The pandemic happening alongside the racial crisis boiling over is a clear message that the entire world must be jackhammered and rebuilt. We are being asked to change because we are ready for better.

I have always treated every person with kindness, empathy, and respect. I know this. I have taught my children the same. This last week we have been talking about the unjust horror of recent events, and how it’s our responsibility as a hunted people to not let others be treated terribly based on race, religion, gender, or sexuality. My kids are being raised in the same protective Jewish bubble in which I was, but I’m determined to widen their young lenses. Access to social media makes them far more aware of world news and events than I ever was. We have these important discussions, which include the privilege that comes attached to our skin color. They don’t need to apologize for that, but it is an awareness that breeds deeper sensitivity and understanding towards those punished for being a different color. That must stop. Those broken people hurting others need to be so scared of the consequences that they’ll think twice. Meaning, the laws must change to protect and serve all people equally. No one should get away with anything like this. Our government has failed, it must do better. Our police force has failed, it must do better. Our society has failed, it must do better. We can’t expect crazy people to be better, but most of us aren’t crazy; the job falls on us to rise up together as brothers and sisters. We can, however, demand that the crazies be so severely punished so as to serve as a cautionary tale.

I heard a fierce dharma talk tonight by Black gay zen priest, Zenju Earthlyn Manuel. She said we honor our ancestors by practicing, them being the earth, the sky, all of nature. They are all so different yet live in harmony, and look how long they’ve lasted. They are far stronger and wiser than us. But we are human, and that comes with rage, fear, and sadness. We are angry but we practice. We are sad but we practice. We are scared but we practice. Each breath leads into the next, it is one continuing circle. A circle encompasses all in it. Night to day, winter to spring, young to old, birth to death, it’s all the same. Beginnings to endings then back to beginnings. We can always begin again. A new dawn is always just a few hours away.

We practice until we can no longer breathe.

And sometimes when we can no longer breathe, we become the change the world needs.

The Beat Goes On

This past week was one of the brightest highlights of my entire life, when Lady Blaga hosted a nationwide hospital give back called Eats&Beats. In an effort to give back during this insane time of COVID19, the aim was to let our superhuman front liners know that they are seen, loved, and appreciated. What has been asked of every first responder and hospital staffer throughout this time has been completely crazy. From security guards and janitors to doctors and nurses, they have been putting their own lives at tremendous risk to fight the war on this deadly virus. They don’t have the luxury of staying home in quarantine and waiting for Amazon and Instacart deliveries. This pandemic is extremely physically and emotionally challenging for every human on earth, but to the medical community it’s next level scary. With the Eats & Beats mission, we so badly wanted to give joy, strength, and encouragement to as many front liners as possible. This mission was born on a phone call with the idea to help, pure and simple. It was a grassroots concept put together by two harried, stretched way too thin moms (me and Tzvia) who were intent on using our resources to spread love and light. Giving back has always been part of the Lady Blaga framework. This brand is a direct representation of who I am as an individual, and I feel grateful that my giving nature has always shouted loud and clear. Our goal was to enlist hospitals who would want to receive lunch, masks, and virtual entertainment for roughly 300 staffers in each facility. We had so many bumps and roadblocks. At times I doubted to myself if this was going to work. It didn’t feel so daunting at first, but things kept snowballing into an overwhelming amount of details and technicalities. Many doors were slammed in our faces, from family, friends, and contacts alike who we really thought would help. It was very disheartening but we kept going, believing all would unfold as it was meant to. Trust isn’t a one way street. We don’t get to say we trust only when things work out the way we want them to. It’s easy to thank “the Universe” when we win the lottery. It’s much harder to test the trust muscle when things are falling apart. Flexing that muscle has been what has gotten me through every hard time and situation, from the minor to the major. I did ask Source through the rocky planning of this event if it was going to work out. The answer was always a resounding yes, but so many factors were just not pointing in the direction of success. At that point there was nothing to do but surrender to the process and just do my best, regardless of the outcome. Zoom is a terrific platform that has been keeping the world afloat during lockdown, but it’s meant for meetings, not for music. It actually compresses sound, and much is required on the back end in order to get clear sound transfer. Each DJ has a different mixer setup to facilitate this. I don’t have a mixer at home yet, so we were attempting this all through other means. Every rehearsal involved a heart crushing amount of static. I worked so hard on curating an uplifting, positive, joy infused set. I just wanted to make the hospitals happy. Letting them down was terrifying to me. Until the moment I pressed stop at the end of the event, I had no idea how it was going to play out. I had every reason to expect tech hiccups. We had a plan for that but still; I just wanted all to go so well. This was my gift to the world at this time. When our need to give is stunted or blocked there is an emotional disconnect. I committed to doing my best as I always do, and that was all I could offer. That had to be enough. Looking back, I see how every single problem and complication was all part of my personal curriculum in letting go. In trust, in surrender, in brushing off my individual expectations and needs for how “things should be”. At one point I literally saw guru Neem Karoli Baba sitting on the bed next to my DJ setup, laughing at me when I was annoyed about something. As in, “oh yeah? You’re going to let THAT throw you off your game??” It helped me immediately release all the built up tension and constrictions that had been piling and hardening. As soon as that happened, which was right before I had to start, I surrendered to the moment. AND THE ENTIRE HOUR AND A HALF WENT PERFECTLY AND FLAWLESSLY. Tzvia, Esquire (who ran tech), and I could not F ing believe it. Ten minutes into playing, after the celebrity montage of well wishes we put together played, I burst into tears at seeing the nurses, doctors, cafeteria workers, and various other staffers dancing and singing. The true meaning of the event came crashing down on me and I forgot everything except who and what I was playing for. Each hospital brought the moves, the enthusiasm, and the love. I could not have done this without their magnificent participation. Giving through a screen cross country is a curious thing, but it worked. I was overcome with a fierce emotion that drove me song after song. Our zoom screen looked like a feel good, choreographed commercial about this time in history. Each time a certain hospital was featured in the middle of the screen, they erupted with dancing and cheering as if on a Jumbotron. It was wonderful, and I felt so blessed to be captaining the ship. I closed with Pride by U2. As I finally removed my headphones and danced like a maniac to the lyrics “in the name of love”, it was this clear awareness of the vast importance of the moment. I’m still processing it all. We were featured in magazines and on the news. I hope this encourages others to be inspired and pay it forward. It’s all part of walking each other home. My exercise teacher asked me the other day who we partnered with to do this. “No one, we did it all ourselves” was a statement that made me realize what we accomplished. I am so proud of myself and of my amazing team. I am endlessly grateful to all who allowed me to give on such a huge level. I want Eats&Beats to be the Lady Blaga mission statement. There will always be folks who need food, love, encouragement, and music. Providing that music and energy is one of the reasons I became a DJ. Every moment of my life, every trial and tribulation led to this moment. Every hardship, doubt, frustration, and fear. I trust each was a necessary part of my path. There will be more hardships, more fears, more difficulties. And yet the beat will always go on.

The First Free Women: Visakha- Many Branches

Giving is Living

 It is challenging to write a post like this without sounding judgmental, but I want to share an experience I’m having. Since inception, the Lady Blaga mission is very much focused on giving back. This has always been very important to me as an individual, and I feel fortunate to use my various platforms to satisfy that deep need to give, help, and connect.

I am currently planning a huge hospital give back mission to thank our heroic front liners during this global crisis. No years of medical training could have prepared anyone for this. What has been asked of hospital staffers these past few months is not to be believed. I know several doctors who have died from contracting COVID 19. My friends and I are scared of the grocery store; imagine the doctors, nurses, janitors, security guards, and ambulance drivers who are thrust into the depths of the virus daily?

I wanted a way to show appreciation, love, and thanks in my own small way. As with most events, funding has been needed. I reached out to numerous people, something I’m inherently uncomfortable with, to help sponsor this give back mission. Of course I gave myself too, as did my team members. Many of the people I asked are financially blessed. I’d say the majority didn’t even respond to me, which has been so disheartening. I only approached people who I really thought would want to help, to whatever extent they could or chose to. I made it clear that any amount would go to supporting struggling local business who agreed to feed hospital workers for the event. It was a really sad bummer to learn that those who could have easily given did not. I’m talking about folks who live really well, god bless them. On the flip side, it was also made apparent that most who did donate have very little to spare, yet were committed to opening their hearts anyway. What I concluded was that it’s not a global pandemic that changes one’s desire to give; it’s just that this certain point in time is highlighting that one way or the other. The beautiful stories of giving we see on the news and social media? I’m guessing those wonderful acts are done by people who are inclined to do them anyway. It’s just that now we know about it. Those who are less inclined to give are the ones hoarding all the grocery items. Those who are in touch with their open hearts are taking their bread and eggs out of their shopping carts and giving it to the elderly couple on the checkout line. I don’t think people are necessarily changing from the pandemic, because external factors don’t make us any different. Whatever we give or take comes from an inside place. Certainly crises can shake up the system and be a catalyst for change and growth, but no real growth lasts if it doesn’t stem from a pure inner seed. I know hundreds of people; my observation has been that the givers were givers anyway and the hoarders were tight fisted anyway too. It was a letdown to learn that so many of the people I reached out to not only didn’t rally, but couldn’t even be bothered to respond. Family, friends, business contacts. It was another harsh lesson in seeing who I can count on, a further clarification of who wants to help only when I’m not down and out (then people tend to come in droves). Or that if they’re not center stage then there’s no interest. I’m no misanthrope or cynic, but if you can’t count on people to lend a hand now... then these are people who I should assume won’t be there for me in any capacity. As Ram Dass says, “how you react is your karma, and how I react is mine.” He also says that “it’s all just part of the curriculum”.

Part of my karma and curriculum is to observe without judging, to learn while observing, and above all to be so grateful for my own open heart. It has a history of opening too much to the wrong things, but that is what allows it to open to the right things. In its own way the world has been going on, open heartbeats included. There will always be givers and those who shut down out of fear they won’t have enough or get enough publicity. My only course of action is to keep traveling the path that feels right to me. As one teacher said, the right moves fill you with joy and peace; the rest is all ego. All I can do is keep discerning between the two, and keep believing I’ll meet up with likeminded souls to share the experience of giving with. Because if you want to share, there is always another way to divide that one slice of bread.

When Small Talk Shrinks You

 I was talking to one of my BFFs the other day, about how many people we know talk to each other. Before I extended my life to other areas and groups of people, I’d have changed “many” to “most”. When I was used to one communication style, I literally had no idea that humans could speak to each other in truly beautiful, sweet, honest, and genuine ways. As in, not asking how you are in order to dig for information. Or to compare your choices to their choices, so that they can plunge into a strange monologue explaining why they chose this camp, that school, or that vacation destination. You know, that bizarre speech people give to validate their decisions, when you didn’t ask for any such info. For example, “WE chose THIS school because blah blah blah”... shoot me I don’t care get me away from you immediately. Then my friend and I dug up this classic small talk move, the “how ARE you?” that translates into “I just need to make sure you’re sadder than me.” I said this and my friend was dying of laughter, because the truth of so much of this bombastic bullshit is so mean, uncaring, and selfish. Another favorite of ours is, “Are you ok? You don’t seem like yourself”. What the hell does that even mean??? Do we have to be one way all the time to fit the mold of how another person views us? It’s so frustrating. I happen to do both the extrovert and introvert thing really well. I have noticed many people can’t handle it when I’m in an introverted space, which happens quite often. I need to be left alone a lot. I have found that a lot of people take this personally. That became very hard for me; when I wanted to be more within but then had to force small talk so as not to invite some annoying AF interrogation. Yes I’m ok I just feel like being quiet, dammit!! And so I stopped going places when I was in such a space. It took me years to make sense of what was going on with me in this way. I began my Dark Night of the Soul (look it up, trust me) around 8 years ago. I had no idea what that was or what it meant at the time. Only in hindsight did I come upon the explanation for what I was going through. I am still learning, through various spiritual teachers, how to make sense of my shift. All I knew was that my entire inner landscape was cracking open. It felt like a nervous breakdown. Things I used to enjoy, like small talk at a party, became excruciating. I checked out of Shabbat meals, social gatherings, and the like. I couldn’t handle it. My daughter was once horrified when I hid in a closet when friends dropped by unannounced. I could not handle seeing them. And because others’ view of “myself” was in fact different, explaining that felt worse than sticking a fork in my eye. I couldn’t even explain it to me. But why do people seem to need to see us so one dimensionally? We all know that we are full of feelings, thoughts, and mood changes. Can’t I act differently yet still be myself?

The sad part of being asked these questions in a small talk setting is that 99% of the time they are coming from a catty, nosy place. They aren’t coming from a place of genuine concern. So the vibe of these types of exchanges feels like an unsettling tactic. I haven’t taken part in that dance in years, and I don’t miss it at all. If I can’t be all versions of myself around you then, simply put, no thank you. I have learned that the ones who can’t handle our shifts, twists, and turns are the ones who can’t tolerate their own. It can feel invasive and obnoxious to be on the receiving end of that kind of questioning and chatter, but it’s not personal. It’s usually coming from a place of the interrogator not being able to hold space for themselves in a healthy way. If so, you can forget about them holding space for you. I have learned how to skillfully answer stuff like this by making steady eye contact and offering a simple, “I’m well thank you”. I don’t even intend to ask how they’re doing, so as to avoid going down the road of aforementioned bizarre speech. This is part of me learning boundaries, which is new. It’s all an important part of the curriculum. As Ram Dass says, “it’s all just part of the curriculum”( look him up, trust me). How I harness my energy, where I direct my attention, how to be mindful in each moment and use that to avoid self betrayal, even in seemingly harmless social settings. If I’m going out, it’s to have a good time. Making sure of that is my job, regardless of the Whack a Mole yentas who are popping up one by one to “just see how I’m doing”. In yoga we use bandahs, locks, at different anatomical points, to lock in the energy we create through breath and attention. Every situation in life can serve as practice for that. Seeing that from a more light hearted “curriculum” kind of way has helped me relax more into specific settings. Getting annoyed is yet another expenditure of precious energy. We don’t have to take on someone else’s narrative. And we can drop our own at any time too. It’s all a matter of what we choose to carry around or unpack. Yes, I will avoid small talk that intends to shrink me. I find it torturous. But no one can shrink me unless I let them. Locking down that realization has been quite expanding. It’s a reminder of my own power and sovereignty, a quarantine theme for me that was a much needed lesson at this exact point in time.

Project Hallway

Continuing with the sharing of inspirational ideas for quarantine activities, I bring you our version of Project Runway! I surprised my kids with this one after dinner. I called it Project Hallway. Each contestant had to choose a theme and at least one article of clothing. They could do whatever they wanted to the clothes a) to encourage creativity b) I don’t foresee them wearing outdoor clothing anytime soon, so they may as well have fun and destroy some stuff.  They had an hour and a half before presenting their ensemble. Extra points for as using as many materials as possible. Coordinating accessories were strongly encouraged. They had to choose a song to present to, and the item of clothing had to be wearable. One of my sons was surprised and impressed when I started slicing up a second t shirt to make him a sweatband. At this point it’s whatever works, right? But honestly, I want to have this fun, relaxed element with them all the time. If we can do it now why not when this is over too? I think we are all learning to release a lot of these silly rules and limitations. This pandemic is so complicated and full of tragedy and anguish, but it has its good teachings too. Their themes were nature, fashion, and COVID19. I must say they all knocked it out of the park. They poured such creativity into their designs and creations. I was so proud. The judging ultimately got so cutthroat that I had to enlist their dad, who mercifully came by at that moment.

So here we are, still on lockdown. It is hard and sad and anxiety provoking. But it is simply the present reality. In the words of Runway master, Tim Gunn, “Make it work!!”. 

Scavenger Hunt

In a continued effort to come up with fun family activities, the other night I put together a quick scavenger hunt. It was a total hit with my kids. Many of you wanted more deets after seeing clips of it posted on Instagram. I loved watching my kids run all over the house completing various challenges and searching frantically for different items. Best part? This was a fully homegrown activity. No ordered kits, no purchased parts from amazon, no virtual entertainment. It felt great to have fun without needing to outsource anything at all. I put together 8 challenges and whoever finished all first won. Prizes were of course involved. My kids got creative and competitive, and I enjoyed watching tremendously. They all said they’d love to do this one again. Mom idea for the win!! Here is my list of challenges for you to use as inspo in your own homes. In our house this took about 40 minutes. Next time I’ll start earlier so I can make this longer. The excitement kept building; feel free to pile on the fun ideas to keep going. It worked like this: each completed challenge had to be brought to me for approval. Upon said approval, they earned access to the next task, quietly so their sibling couldn’t cheat.

Here’s the best part, the part that was my prize. As my kids searched, what I found was how utterly delightful and playful this time on lockdown has been with them. My children got to know a fun side to me that they perhaps didn’t have much access to (which makes me sad). Instead of being a driver/warden/cruise ship director, I get to just enjoy how much fun these little humans are. I don’t have to nag about homework or carpool. We aren’t in any sort of rush. We can play, bond, and enjoy each other as people. The rigidity of the roles can soften now. There’s more room for connections to form, breathe, and deepen. I am nervous to lose that when this ends. But for now let’s just take it one day at a time...

1) What’s black, white, and red all over? Be creative and find two things to fit this description.

2) Mom loves to cook and bake. Search in her big cookbook collection for a recipe. Present it to her with three needed ingredients to make this recipe.

3) 6 things that fly

4) Draw your favorite animal and color it in.

5) Shoot ten baskets and video it for proof.

6) Find three books; baby, teen, adult.

7) Find 8 different items in the same color.    No duplicates.

8) Sing Happy Birthday backwards. The words, not the letters.

Hope this helps! Happy hunting.

Timing

I love this quote by Yung Pueblo, who is a brilliant writer and meditator. He has keen, accurate insights into humanity, psychology, and trauma conditioning. There is even something about the font he uses on social media that I find soothing and welcoming. I bought a ticket to hear him speak at NYU for the end of March prior to COVID.

 It irritates me when people say “time heals everything”. With all the information available to us on how to heal ourselves and the essential steps required to do so, it feels like a lazy, outdated notion. I’m sure we all know people who have been harping on the same topics for years, even decades. The same destructive and unhappy patterns repeating in slightly different circumstances. Conversations and complaints that don’t seem to change, grievances that don’t improve. Wounds that never heal, brokenness that doesn’t somehow fuse us back together. We can’t expect time to do any of that for us. Time is neutral. It is a gift in the form of space and length in which we can make choices. The pivot is in our hands, and time is the stage on which we can choreograph new steps. Certainly things happen over time that we didn’t realize were set into motion, either by us or by Source. For instance, you slept late the morning of 9/11 and didn’t take the train to work that you never miss. Or you met the love of your life completely unexpectedly. There are things backstage that the spiritual set designers are planning for us all the time. But it’s a partnership. The most brilliant script can be written for us, but if we don’t commit to memorizing the lines then it’s useless. Time doesn’t heal; we do, by deciding that we want different/fresher/ better/ healthier and moving towards that. Pace is individual, and even those of us with fiery pitta tendencies will be taught to take it slowly. Healing is a long process. It isn’t time that will do it for you, but it is indeed time that is your friend on this journey. Time allows us to kindly be patient and gentle with ourselves while we learn to walk again. It mostly likely took decades for you to get to where you are; unlearning and de programming your mind, body, and heart will take precious time. Each time I feel I’ve reached a new trail marker on my path, I uncover a new space that needs exploration and attention. The layers keep revealing themselves. Like most things, time just is. It’s entirely up to us how we use it. I know there is so much talk of this in regard to our current state. This pandemic has given most of us more time than we know how to handle. There seems to be pressure in using time wisely; to self care, to connect with loved ones, to enjoy simplicity, to learn ourselves, to create, to clean out closets, to be productive, etc. We all have our lists of things we have been “wanting to get to if only there was time”. What’s interesting is that we have always confused our lack of time with a lack of motivation. There’s either too much time or too little. It’s somehow “time’s” fault if we don’t accomplish stuff. There’s a lesson in that too. That perhaps what we thought we wanted to do turned out to not matter all that much. These realizations are crucial in the continuous editing process. How we want to spend our time and with whom are incredibly important self discoveries. Despite the horror and tragedy of this virus, those of us that have been fortunate to remain healthy and safe have indeed been given the great gift of increased time. It’s a wonderful chance to go inward in every sense. If that terrifies you then perhaps start exploring why. If losing our former distractions and intoxicants make us feel adrift and lost, get curious in a gently yet starkly honest way. Use this time to be curious about yourselves, what makes you tick and why, what you may be looking away from out of fear and discomfort. Time doesn’t clean anything up for you, that’s not it’s purpose. But we can align ourselves with this new reality of added time. We can meet it and use it well. No one needs to know about your process, it’s private. You never need to explain or justify the journey of self exploration. Anyone who won’t support that or understand might begin to drop away. That’s not time removing them; it’s time helping you steer yourself in a new direction of your design. In our deepest, darkest places we hold so much stuff that needs unpacking. There is often a lot of shame in facing this dirty clutter. Shame is a tough one, and has usually been ingrained since we were very young. Just as no one can clean out your closet for you (you need to decide what to keep and toss), no outside source can do your inner healing. Time can’t do it either. Time is here to assist and support. Let’s use this time to come out of this improved, lighter, more peaceful, more joyous. We have time to unpack, to put down these heavy loads that have slowed us down over the years. The entire world will hopefully be forever changed post COVID19. The portal has been created; if and how we walk through it is our decision. We are clearly being taught to live with less, on the deepest of levels. There is profound emotional freedom that comes with that lesson. Let’s no longer rely on time, or blame it. Let’s love it for cradling us while we use it wisely and well. Time is always here for you. Will you be here for you?

(Self) Love in the Time of Cholera

Swap Corona for Cholera and you’ve got a deal. Now swap this movie title (from a film I never actually saw) for the cheesy Ashley Judd movie called Double Jeopardy and you’ve really got a deal.

I was discussing Double Jeopardy with a friend tonight, in terms of how I’m managing myself during these incredibly uncertain, heavy, scary times. Last week I thought everyone who was freaking out about covid was overreacting. How life has changed in a few short days, for the entire world. Today, I’m on total lockdown with my family. My daughter has been quarantined for three weeks and is going crazy. My sons always dreamed about having no school, and are now verbalizing missing it terribly. My oldest had to clear out her college dorm room. I’m well aware we are amongst the fortunate. My chief concerns are occupying my kids, making sure our home is stocked, remaining calm, and staving off boredom. People all over the world lost their incomes overnight. Children who eat their one meal a day in public school don’t have access to food. Single parents can’t afford the luxury of being at home with their kids because they have to choose between their health and working to put food on the table. The entire planet is in dire straights, with no seeming end in sight. Humans don’t like the unknown in the best of times, and now the population is really reaching unprecedented levels of unsure hysteria. There is clearly a giant cosmic lesson in learning to cope with the unknown. In finding stillness amongst the emotional upheaval. In violently unplugging all the ways we rape the earth of its resources. In hitting the reset button in our treatment of the environment. In learning how to unite and treat each other better, to see every single human as having the same needs and vulnerabilities as we do. Our circumstances and details vary, but underneath all that interchangeable stuff are deep commonalities. Health, safety, food, fresh air, income, friendship, education, connection, and interaction are universal needs. It’s amazing how quarantine and social distancing reinforce connection and community. I find myself thinking of people that never much crossed my mind before; the Amazon delivery guy, the Instacart order gatherer, the teachers holding class together virtually, the manager of my supermarket who is so overwhelmed because demand is far greater than supply, to name a few. My exercise instructors and DJ friends who cannot work and have no source of income whatsoever.  I’m thinking so much about this wonderful woman I visit with at the nursing home; I miss her as well as the freedom to show up there at all. I miss leaving my home. I miss my friends. The sheer liberty of getting in a car to go anywhere right now is something I hope I don’t take for granted ever again but most likely will. The other day I googled local homeless shelters. I called one and asked them what they needed. They were so appreciative and told me they need food. It took me two weeks of frantically stocking up my own home to consider the needs of those less fortunate. Even the google search melted the hard armor of protection I unconsciously put around my heart. The instinct to shut down and close up out of fear is so strong. Only after I opened did I observe how much I’d closed off. I needed the act of giving to take a jackhammer to my “hunt and gather” means of fake safety. I placed a huge Instacart order of canned goods and non perishables, put on gloves and a mask, and drove to this shelter in Washington Heights. I wasn’t afraid of the virus; I was more afraid of being an asshole by only thinking of myself and my family. If I let this virus pass, and it shall, without teaching my kids true lessons in giving then I’m a failure as a parent. This isn’t self righteousness; it’s fact. All the lessons I have learned in opening up my heart and fighting to keep it open, are ultimately not worth much if I don’t pass them onto my kids. Driving home from the shelter was the most joyous 20 minutes I’ve had in 3 weeks. I felt certain of the purpose of being a member of humankind. Giving feeds us, always. Even if at first we resist out of fear. Why? Because we are spiritually designed for it. It is what we are, and no amount of logic or constricting can make us outrun our true nature. To give is to come home, plain and simple. And to feel settled at home is a beautiful feeling. There truly is no place like home.
   

Going back to the movie reference. In the movie Ashley Judd’s sleazy husband frames her for murder, which lands her in jail. While in prison she works out like a nut, sharpening her body, strength, and determination. She is laser focused on the goal to free herself, catch her husband, and reunite with her young son. While in lockup she learns new skills, builds friendships with other inmates, and pushes herself towards her future. I realize this is an idealized version of jail but hey, it’s a movie. The point is, her world was ripped out from under her. Her new reality sucked but she rebounded and kept her sanity with discipline, dreams, and determination. I have been thinking of this movie during my own lockdown. I feel blessed that I can always hurl myself into my music. I happen to have a ton of very necessary DJ work to do so I spend several hours a day with my equipment. This gives my day structure and uplifts me because I am bringing my future DJ visions into my present. I am determined to block out the fear, agitation, and distractions and focus on building up my own skill set. One day life will resume and I will be ready. I am not wasting this time by watching the news and whining. I decided right away that would not serve me. When I find my mind veering off course, I just keep bringing it back like a restless puppy. Goals, dreams, visions. That’s how I am spending these few weeks. I fight the frustration of being stuck by mentally moving. Yes, I’m feeling trapped, stale, and  out of sorts. Cautious,adrift,and unsure. All the feels that are everywhere right now. But I’m putting those in a drawer to sharpen myself in all ways. I refuse to squander this time that I didn’t want but was given. I know what I need to do and I’m going to do it. I have numerous projects in the pipeline that I’m ferociously developing. I owe this to myself; to be ready for whatever is to come, however that winds up looking like. One of the lessons here is how precious time is. How we spend it is entirely up to us, regardless of circumstances.
  Some parting meta: May all Beings everywhere be safe, well, healthy, and peaceful. May all Beings be free from fear. May all Beings love themselves enough to just Be in stillness and silence, and to find the comfort underneath the discomfort.

We don’t know when, but this story too has an ending. They all do. We can get through this. See you on the other side of fear.

7

So here’s a trip for you...
At my recent zen meeting, our teacher led us in a profoundly moving meditation that had me weeping. We were instructed to lie down, get comfortable, cover up, and relax. Koshin then asked us to imagine being told we had 7 years to live. Who would we tell? Who would we not tell? Why? How would we want to spend those last years in this lifetime? We had a few minutes to mentally answer the questions. Every few minutes we were given new time frames in which to ask ourselves these same questions.
If we had 7 months left
7 weeks
7 days
7 hours
7 minutes
7 seconds

This was the rawest mental exercise I’ve ever done. I personally have never thought about my last few seconds of breath. The very last thing the body ever does is exhale. At that point it’s all gone, all of it. All the ideas, stories, plans, regrets, concerns, physical functions, desires, frustrations, betrayals, hopes etc that have lived inside us have jumped ship long before. The exhale outlives all else. That’s how powerful breath is. It’s the last thing to stay inside us until it too must go. What state do I want to be in during those very last few seconds?

The lists I had for whom to tell and whom not to tell were mostly the same. I am pretty certain of my core people. I know who I’d want to handle my healthcare proxy, my departing soul, my funeral/burial, and who I’d want to be around. One person who I did not think I’d tell prior to this exercise popped up as someone I would indeed want to know. On the flip side, someone who I previously did think I’d tell in such an extreme situation no longer feels right to include. The clarity born from exercises like these is so important. The self knowledge gained here leads to some of the most valuable insights we can possibly have into not just our deaths, but our lives. If we are so sure how we’d want to spend our time and with whom, why aren’t we doing that now? Why wait to narrow down what’s most important? Personally, I want to die the same way I want to be alive.
I really recommend finding some quiet time to sit with yourself, amidst this time of unavoidable reminders of our fragile mortality, and contemplate each of these questions. It could lead to strong, yet kind directives in letting your loved ones know how important they are to you, to the kinds of days you desire to have yet have been putting off, and to understanding that time is not up to us. We simply cannot control it. None of us should assume we have many years left to live the life we want, one that we can be proud of. It’s just not so. Live the same life you would now as you would in your later years, so that if you got hit by a bus today you’d know you gave it your all. Let this global pandemic be your teacher. It’s here at the front of the universal classroom. It’s speaking. Are we texting and checking social media, or are we paying attention to this colossal lesson that defies hemispheres, ages, ethnicities, and time zones?

I suggest just starting to ask yourself, and to begin to seek clarity about life by befriending the concept of death. We don’t choose to be born or to die. But we get to choose what happens in between those two events.

Tough Love

What I imagine Source is saying to the world right now:

“Just stop. All of it. It’s not working.”

“You need a time out and you don’t know it, so I’m forcing you to sit in the corner. Do not move until you realize what you have done.”

“Disconnect”

“Connect”

“Understand fully that I made you all the same.”

“Please leave nature and the environment alone. Please. Give her time to repair.”

“Do not shut down your heart. Stay open.”

“Improvise. Learn how adaptable you are. Trust in yourself is required for this.”

“Help your neighbors. They breathe just like you do. Their needs are yours.”

“Share your gifts and blessings. Do not hoard your good fortune. Be a team player.”

“Make friends with fear by trusting Me.”

“Patience. Restraint. Acceptance.”

“I never said life was going to be easy, but I am certain you can do this. I designed you for this. I know your mechanisms.”

“I made you and am not abandoning you.”

“I love you enough to let you hate me right now.”

“Show me what I know you can do. I’ll wait.”

And so

And so She stayed home
And did yoga
And read
And meditated
And embraced stillness
And cooked nutritious foods for herself and her family
And called Her Ones, telling them she loves them
And appreciated nature
And took care of her body
And practiced her music

YADA YADA. These are things She does anyway on a regular basis. HOWEVER...
And so she embraced her curly hair
And let her nails be whatever
And googled recipes for matzoh pizza
And handed out custom cocktails of  vitamins for each child
And cleaned out neglected closets
And thanked herself for dropping the ball on her Denny’s camp appointment, since who  cares about matching Nike outfits right now  anyway?
And She fought even harder to find the stillness under the commotion, yet found it  every time.
And She cued up hundreds of songs that  had to be recovered on her laptop.
And She pushed Herself creatively, going full  steam ahead on all the ideas that have lived  within her for lifetimes.
And She felt awash with gratitude for her  zen practice, her teachers, and sangha.
And worried that despite this massive,  worldwide lesson, most humans will lapse  right back into their old ways and come to  forget this ever happened as soon as the airports reopen, herself included.
And She vowed to travel the world, even  alone if need be, after having been denied  access to anywhere beyond her house.

And She felt guilty about being amongst the fortunate in this upheaval.
And She felt so excited about her future.
And She emailed RZA from the Wu-Tang  Clan, because you never F ing know.
And She enjoyed every second of this  season of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and  wondered if she could ever be attracted to  Larry David (no). 
And She reread old emails from people,  some of whom are dead.
And She realized what in her life still needs  to be released, since now more than ever is  the time for editing.

And She knows it’s not that easy, even  though it is that simple.
And She thought about her life in terms of  before and after certain people and events,  not just Corona.
And She realized she’d trade none of it, even  the most painful parts.
And She thought about those who she  doesn’t know if she’ll ever speak to or see  again, for various reasons, and what that  means for her.

And She pondered about the punctuation  used in this post, since punctuation is a bit  of an obsession for her and she doesn’t  think she got it right.

And She questioned how if this lifetime will  be enough time to give what she needs to.  Because she is fairly clear on that, and it’s a  lot.

And She realized that the more she goes  inward, the more capable she is of going  outward. And that is why the journey inward  matters so much and is infinite.
And She realized that to waste a moment of  life on nonsense is truly a crime. But that it’ll  happen anyway (though hopefully less).

And She frantically searched up which Starbucks near her is open, because all this zen stuff goes out the window if she can’t have her iced skim latte.

And She understood that she should  ultimately die, whenever that is, having  been “completely used up”. A friend said  this recently and it felt right, as far as    squeezing every bit of herself, and wringing  out all the juice.

And She thought about her funeral, and her  death, and how blessed she is to have a list  of people who she shares hearts with. And  she began to write out her end of life  instructions, as part of her final zen project,  realizing the delicious serenity in this  exercise.

And she felt conflicted about her reaction to  her kids not wanting her to start her own Tik  Tok account, because she knows moms are  inherently embarrassing but isn’t she one of  the cool ones that can actually dance?

And She still acted like an idiot who lacks  perspective, because that’s what humans  do; we skip back and forth between  knowing and not knowing. Between truth  and illusion. Riding out the waves of an ever  present duality that is there to show us the  way home, again and again.

And She just Is. Because She just Was. And all that Is right now will very soon morph into Was too. And all that Will Be will have that trajectory as well; from Will Be to Is to Was. It all becomes Was.

It’s all changing. It’s all fleeting. Much of what we thought we knew is no longer fact. We are being forced to absorb this. Only the truth remains. You know what that means.

She loved writing this one.
She appreciates You for reading it.

Love Letters 💌

Love is...
Someone seeing the cosmos within you (L)

When someone believes you can do absolutely anything (T)

That person who will hold your deepest places of shame without judgement (D)

The one who will listen to you say the same thing over and over and over with patience and understanding (S)

The one who will fight to snuggle with you (B)

Someone whose eyes fill with adoration by looking at you (Z)

That safe space of advice and guidance (E)

The one who has seen you grow up and appreciates the quirks, memories, and ugliness that is that process (A)

A force that makes you howl with laughter (Y and Y)

They who looks at you with the briefest glance and communicates an entire, often hilarious, observation (E)

The one who cares for and nurtures you when you need someone else to take over that job (S)

A giant hug in every way (A)

The power that heals you (S)

The one that covers you with a blanket so lovingly it brings you to tears (B)

That person who knows and understands when you need to be left alone (S)

Generous and abundant in every way (A)

Your teacher, mostly about yourself (E)

Your ultimate safety net (MMMMMM)

Total honesty (L)

The deepest source of imagination, passion, creativity, and raw emotion (L)

A place of refuge (K and C)

Fun as hell (It’s a crew)

Stillness (B)
Motion (S)
Fusion (Y)

Constant encouragement that comes from another seeing who you are now and who you can still become (T, S, E, L)

Your cheerleader and facilitator (J)

Knowing all of these qualities reside within you but are also needed from others.

That One who joyfully gifts you with all these qualities, as if they’ve been waiting their whole life to do so.

Vastness that puts you in this delicious bubble of being cherished and protected.

Impossible to list. It’s beyond description. It doesn’t need it. It defies the structure of words and letters.

Home.

Peace.

The only point to this whole dance.