Smile With Your Entire Body

The Stirring that Keeps Us Awake

2012-10-17T18:17:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, in the dead of night, the silence stirs me awake. Eyes open, blinking to a thumping heartbeat, moving away from dreaming and into the shadows of darkness. “Why am I awake?” is always the first question, “Go back to sleep” is always the response. Resisting wakefulness makes sleep run further away. Finally surrendering to my stubborn mind, it wins and willfully opens the floodgates of thought. Waiting for sleep’s intruder to present itself, I notice and pay attention, observing the thoughts playing in my mind. Each minute the moving clock ticks, my heartbeats grow faster and louder. Anxiously the persistent thought repeats, “I’m still not sleeping! What is so pressing that must be handled right now?”

Eventually my pulse slows and steadies, my mind clears and the pressing issue finally reveals itself. 3AM isn’t an ideal time for problem solving. Morning is always better when all will be addressed. With that, dreamland comes to the rescue and when it doesn’t there’s Xanax (yes, sometimes I cave and take the easy route).

This night, when the intruder came, it was expected. There were no questions about this episode. This plea for help, this pooling ache, woke me in haunting stillness, and surprisingly I welcomed it with open arms. Knowing this was an exploration that deserved total attention. Perhaps this time 3AM was a good time for problem solving? After all, it’s quiet and still.

A week had passed since my dearest friend uttered her diagnosis: cancer - the “C” word. Too loaded and unbearable of a term to fully process, we shorten it to create less to deal with – and why wouldn’t we? The mere thought of a diagnosis generates paralyzing panic (see my post “The Higher Risk Society” for my brief cancer scare). Avoiding is simply easier until the choice is no longer ours and we’re forced to confront our deepest fears.

Our scariest moments often happen alone when frightening thoughts are so consuming that even breathing becomes hard. Those thoughts are the worst at 3am. The jump from one fear to the next, spiraling down a dark abyss at lightening speed, until suddenly we slam into a thought that makes our heart stop. “What is wrong with me?!? Why would I think of that?” We berate our wandering minds for traveling to totally unnecessary and gut-wrenching places. In a matter of seconds our worries take us from headache to brain-tumor, from a sleepless night to “Oh my god, I’m never sleeping again!” No wonder we’d rather avoid words like cancer. Why give incentive to create those monsters and free-fall into a pit of anguish?

We face our fears because dodging just leads to being haunted by ourselves. What resists persists. Avoiding is a tactic that never works because our deepest fears must be heard, acknowledged and understood. Only then will they dissolve and release – and in the process we heal ourselves.

How do we understand our greatest fear? When do we have the courage to face ourselves?

Sometimes we have to reach a point of life-threatening despair before we find the courage to move forward and step directly in the muck. That breaking point is different for everyone. The amount we try to carry before we fall doesn’t predict strength. Strength comes from noticing that the load is too heavy, rather than pushing through with blinders on, trying to make it quickly to the other side.

“The things we may take for granted someone else is praying for.” - unknown

It is when we fall and struggle to get up that even the most devout atheist will approach God for help - whichever version of God that may be. For me, God doesn’t live in dogmatic scripture or in the clouds on a far-off throne. Instead God is very close, as close as our own breath. My belief about God is simple. The energy that created everything, that aligns the stars and orbits the planets – that energy is part of everyone and everything, including each one of us. That is what I term God. But sometimes I call it Source, the Higher Self, Love or Light – all these terms adequately describe the indescribable - the sensation of divinity.

That night the weight of the cargo I’d been storing for years – the struggles with my mortality, of the “C” word, of acquiring a life-threatening illness, made me feel weak. I was no longer strong enough to lift it. My deepest, darkest fears buried in the depth of my core were staring right at me, naked and raw. My friend, in all her strength, revealed this to me - without using words.

In a desperate plea for help, to face the fears that had long been resisted, I turned to God for help. The heaviness sat on my chest left me gasping and crying for air. It finally fell to my feet and I used it as a step to lift myself up. As I inhaled, a voyage to the center of myself reached within my heart and transcended the pain by experiencing supreme love, grace, and….God. It happened abruptly. The weeping stopped. Stepping into a vacuum of nothingness, the silence swallowed me whole. I do not know if I ever sensed such vastness, felt so insignificant and experienced such stillness simultaneously. I exhaled, closed my eyes peacefully and finally fell asleep.

How does the old adage go? God doesn’t slam a door in your face without opening a window of opportunity? The trick is to be willing to close the door and open the window. In the shadow of all that sorrow, many lessons were unveiled. In a period of mourning, I gave myself permission to feel…..everything - not only pain and sadness, but also profound love, gratitude and connection. In my vulnerable state an inner union formed that radiated outward. Connecting deeper to myself, my family, my friends, even the people I barely knew. Without warning, life shifted.

The ancient mystics and spiritual gurus all proclaim that we are made up of three entities: mind, body and spirit. When these entities CONSCIOUSLY merge we reach bliss – an inner knowing that translates into ultimate peace. Most aren’t aware of the inner dialogue going on between our minds and bodies. We believe our minds to be completely separate and removed from our physiology but clearly this is not the case. Our bodies react to our thoughts. Public speaking can make our palms sweat and hearts race. When we think of sex our groins ache. Stress wreaks havoc to our emotional and physical lives – but how much credit do we really give our mental thought patterns? Negative thinking, our tight hold on anger and resentment, envy, guilt, shame – these thinking patterns create uncomfortable experiences (both physically and mentally), by changing our thinking we change our experience. Before we can change our thinking patterns, we first must understand what our patterns are.

My main focus as a yoga instructor is to teach mind-body awareness. Merging the mind, body and spirit by connecting with the breath. Learning to listen to the subtleties by paying attention and getting to know ourselves. How do we gain insight to become more understanding and intimate with ourselves?

We simply sit and listen. We watch the thought patterns as if observant of our own mind and we begin to notice trends. We explore and dig deep. We ask questions and obtain answers. Then we change.

Our body is a vehicle to understanding ourselves, it’s not separate from our minds or our souls – all parts of ourselves work together in a harmonious dance, lets wake-up and stop long enough to hear the music.

Through my friend's challenge, I’ve journeyed within to find undiscovered secrets. That stirring in the dead of night is there for my benefit, if only I’m awake enough to notice. Can I accept and appreciate instead of resist and fight or numb and ignore? When fears surface I’m given the opportunity to explore and release rather than avoid and contain. Will the questions come to me again at 3AM? I would be surprised if they didn’t. But this time when they come, there will be no resistance, this time I’ll be ready and willing to listen.

From Insanity To Sanity: How the American Dream has slipped into American Greed and the need to save humanity.

2012-08-06T07:18:00.003-07:00

“You live in America Valeria! You should be so happy to go back home!” Giuseppe was in disbelief when I expressed disappointment about going back to the drear of Detroit. “Leaving this beautiful place is always hard,” I responded. “But you’re going to America!” he shouted. “The land of opportunity! Big buildings, Broadway Theater, Disney World, Madonna and Michael Jackson! Everything and everyone is in America!” My cousin put his hands on my shoulders and shook as if to wake me from a delirious dream. Only when the sadness in my eyes was obvious and real did the stars that danced in the blacks of his iris begin to fade. The sparks of excitement were quickly replaced with a brush of softness that held my gaze. We hugged and an ache pooled at my center. Squeezing my eyes shut hard to force the tears away. If only I could take him and show my America, I thought.

Practically all the kids my age living in Sicily had a love affair with Amerrrica. If you were a Sicilian teen in the 1980s, you spent time listening to American music, watching American movies, and daydreaming about visiting America. If you were an American relative, visiting for the summer months, you were expected to have the answers to their long list of questions, while translating the lyrics of “Like a Virgin” (all of which they had long before memorized long).

Even though I never shared their excitement about my home, their passion helped fuel my pride. Living in a place so many admired made me, by extension, admirable. For an impressionable teen, that was beyond cool. I relished their attention and flaunted my Americanism; “Yes, I’m American, feel free to envy me.” But this high and mighty attitude came at a price. Somewhere in my young and uninformed mind lurked the dampness of guilt. I felt like an imposter trying to hold onto something real when everything was flaking into unworthy dust.

Part of me wanted to yell: “Don’t you all see how great your life is here - the affection, love, connections, the natural beauty, the ancient history? These are things that don’t exist in my Detroit City neighborhood yet these are the things of value - not tall buildings, big cars or roller coasters. Why waste time envying me when I envy you?”

The appreciation for the simple pleasures in life can be an anchor to one’s humanity. Sicily is a place layered in years of corruption (Mafia), where people learned that only beauty could be trusted. Artistic excellence was imperishable. Rocky cliffs and red-lit seas could only be intimidating in its beauty and was never itself intimidated, could not be bargained down, nor bribed. A home cooked meal with family and friends was the only real currency. Their world of disorder and corruption birthed a people who valued what mattered.

Still, the enticing lure of the “American Dream” was a healthy distraction at the time. Free-will and the freedom to pursue your passions are attractive propositions. Especially when they can offer a comfortable way to financially support yourself and your family.

The American Dream - A set of ideals in which freedom includes the opportunity for prosperity and success, and an upward social mobility achieved through hard work. - Wikipedia

Things have changed since my high school summers in Italy. The definition of the American Dream has been tainted. The dream of freedom and opportunity has been replaced with capitalistic “American Greed.” Its slime and filth has leaked and spread to include the rest of the industrialized world. Other countries have caught on and they too have fallen victim to wanting more than they need.

We have arrived at the pinnacle of consumption. Our nation’s wealth gap gives evidence to our economic and moral dilemma. When the top 10% possess 80% of all financial assets and the bottom 90% hold only 20% of all financial wealth – there is both a dis-ease and a disease festering.

People in aboriginal or indigenous cultures have a term for having more than you need – they call it mental illness.

The human body has a name for it as well, we call it cancer. - Documentary "I Am" (download it from iTunes. This Documentary is a MUST SEE For EVERYONE!).

It’s time we find a cure.

Our model for the way things work is going up in smoke. The relation between “stuff” and “happiness” has been debunked. Haven’t we all been hit over the head, time and time again with the memo? Yet the belief remains that if a little makes us happy, then more will makes us happier, and even more than that will makes us the happiest. We hold tight to this ideal with white knuckles despite knowing it’s been overturned. Money can’t buy happiness – this is something we conceptually understand. Can we admit that competition is the source of our greed and greed is the source of unhappiness?

We take for granted that our life’s journey is meant to be a struggle. With each encounter some sort of battle has to be fought – a co-worker who seeks our promotion, the salesman who overcharged us, the student who ruined the bell curve, and even the friend who shares a different opinion than us.

This idea that it’s us against the world originates from our belief that this self we call “I” is separate. Each individual is a unique being that lives apart from everything else. Our own self-contained drama that only affects us while everything else is entirely on its own. The land we live on, the air we breathe, another’s misfortune – everything else is disconnected from us. Our lives begin with the union of two and end painfully alone. One isolated final heart beat.

Darwin’s “survival of the fittest” (note: he spoke much more about cooperation in his book: On The Origin of Species, but that hardly gets noticed) has been exploited. Using it as an excuse to ignore our inner wisdom and instead feed the emptiness of our egos. Our mantra has been “Resources are limited, there’s not enough out there, others may be fitter, I need to have it before they get it.” High self-worth is synonymous with being the best and having the most.

What if we REALLY have it all wrong? What if nothing is separate and instead every single thing is interconnected in a web of collective consciousness? What if competitive individualism isn’t our natural instinct and survival of the fittest doesn’t relate to fighting, pushing and stomping our way to the top? Crushing the people who aren’t as strong may not be the solution. Perhaps cooperation isn’t just hippie or progressive slang, an occupy movement aiming for a revolution - perhaps there’s the extraordinary possibility that cooperation is at the core of our DNA?

The latest scientific research has given way to what spiritual gurus have been saying since the beginning civilization. All life exists in dynamic relation to one another. We aren’t just random atoms jostling in empty space, directionless and separate.

Lynne McTaggart, author of The Intention Experiment states: “All matter exists in a vast quantum web of connection, and a living thing at its most elemental is an energy system involved in a constant transfer of information with its environment. Rather than a cluster of individual, self-contained atoms and molecules, objects and living beings are now more properly understood as dynamic and pretean processes, in which parts of one thing and parts of another continuously trade places.”

In the movie “I Am” Thom Haartman states:

"What [scientists] found was that democracy was being played out literally every day by ... animals," Thom says. He recalls his own experiences of going scuba diving and seeing schools of fish dart around as a collective group, and also remembers watching flocks of birds in his backyard fly together and change directions suddenly while still remaining together.

This reasoning taps our soul and stirs our core. Our soul vibrates with this understanding because it resonates with absolute truth. On a personal level we feel good when we cooperate, help others, become conduits of other people’s happiness and connect with the world around us. We feel pain when someone suffers, we smile with the laugh of a child and when we’re hit with the harsh reality that starvation is still painfully present in our world (while individuals own houses the size of small towns) it stings…deep.

“The UnitedNations' Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) stated that it would take $44billion a year to put an end to world hunger. Does it sound like a lot ofmoney? Governments say it does, as they do not have so much money and it is autopia to think they can ever get such an amount. However, governments do notsay that in 2007, the expenditure in arms was more than 30 times greater ($1,340 billion), just o set an example. Orthat $44 billion is more or less the budget of Beijing-based Olympic Games of 2008. The only thing necessary to endworld hunger is just politicians’ willpower.”

Or the will of the people.

Change begins with us – the people. There was a time when we called for the passage of the 19^th amendment demanding women’s right to vote (1920). We fought relentlessly to outlaw racial discrimination in the 1950s and 1960s. Less than fifty years ago black people were considered “less than” their fellow humans with lighter skin. Today a black man holds the highest office in the world. Change is possible. Evolution is ongoing.

My American Dream is redefined: I dream of an America that leads with civic faith – a faith in the goodness and unity of its people. Where we collaborate for the prosperity of mankind, extending beyond our borders and reaching into the provinces of the neediest. Where success isn’t defined by monetary gain, but rather self-worth, compassion and our ability to help our neighbors. This America places cooperation above competition. A sane American that takes only what it needs and encourages the entire world to thrive.

I imagine a day when I walk arm-n-arm with cousin Giuseppe down Broadway - looking up at NYC’s Time Square remembering what that center once stood for. We smile with pride thinking of the journey we all took to become citizens of one humanity.

Unbuntu -“I Am Because We Are.”

A new America won’t happen overnight but maybe we can start by at least shrinking our nations wealth gap by shifting people's way of thinking. Maybe if we just spread the belief that cooperation is better than competition, that greed isn't the solution, that happiness doesn't come from wealth, maybe more and more people will fight to save humanity instead of fight to fill their pockets.

On a lighter note – take a look at George Carlin’s take on stuff.

Living From The Heart

2012-06-06T18:09:00.003-07:00

It was summer in Sicily. Like kids all over the world, my brother and I spent warm, sun-drenched days playing outside. We made mud pies with dirt the color of dried up orange peels. We captured bugs to lure wild geckos from their hideouts, climbed the tops of fruit trees that stretched for acres, and rode bikes down dirt roads. Unlike most kids in 1984, our dirt roads were in the beautiful Sicilian countryside that led to ancient abandoned castles. The mornings would pass until everyday at noon the bells would clang. It was our cue to run to the fence and watch the herd of sheep pass. They followed each other with their heads low. Defeated and lost they moved slowly and deliberately, one after the other without any will of their own. I looked at them with sadness and thought how horrible it must be to be a sheep, always having to follow a herd.

We were sitting on the redbrick well, Nonno Saro and I, at the foot of a tangerine tree that seemed to stretch to heaven. I asked about the sheep. “Why do they always pass at the same time everyday? They’re probably hot and tired because they don’t look happy.” My grandfather looked at me, his tired eyes glazed with cataracts. He bent over and picked up a small green tangerine from the ground, rolling it a bit between his worn callused fingers before giving it to me. It was cool to the touch. I brought it to my nose to smell the sweet scent of citrus. My grandfather let out a long drawn out sigh. His thoughts lay heavy in the steadiness of his gaze.

In his deep raspy voice he said, “You know, Valeria, sheep are stupidi animali. They just follow the group. You know, people are like sheep. They just do what they’re told and follow the rules even if the rules don’t make sense. They’re too scared to live, too scared to dream, too scared to be different. When you’re a bambino you have to listen to grown-ups but when you get big, you learn, you watch the world with your big eyes, be courageous, curious and smart and never be afraid to live.” He picked me up and sat me on his lap. He patted my chest with a hand that fell across the width of my body, and he whispered, “Always follow your heart not someone else’s – then you won’t be a sheep.”

The most impactful lessons happen when least expect them, like red-hot flames spreading through the calming stillness of a dry forest. Too young to realize at that moment, that day an internal flame was sparked. The shutters that sit over my mind and heart were cracked open. It would be years before I noticed.

I can’t say for certain that it was that conversation with my grandfather that propelled me to live life against the grain. Perhaps my life of opposing convention at all cost would have happened anyway. But that summer day remains as clear and concise in my mind as the smell of a small fresh green tangerine picked up off the ground. The rest of that summer day in 1984 was spent contemplating my grandfather’s words. Soon enough though, they were lost and forgotten and buried deep somewhere in the crevasses of my memory.

As a teenager I was too busy living as a rebel, a free thinker and a lone spirit. Never claiming a group in high school, avoiding the cheerleaders while comforting the bullied, I was directionless but determined. Aimlessly searching for my own path, unaware that my grandfather’s voice was captured within me. Somehow there was a life to claim yet the stake was nowhere to be found. Twenty-some years later the sheep story bubbled up surfacing like a hidden treasure that was set free from the chains that kept it sunken below. Maybe it was the shelves of self-help books that finally triggered its release.

“Your heart calls you to step into an uncommon life, the life of living from inspiration instead of fear. I urge you to follow your call, even if it’s murky and frustrating, because nothing else will stir you in the same way. Many of us stop at the threshold of our extraordinary capabilities because we can’t see how to do something. We can’t figure out how things will happen. But that’s the delicious grace of this path. We can’t plan an inspired life. Your brain will never take you there. But your love can and will.” – Tama J. Kieves, This Time I Dance!

I spent years fooling myself into believing I was fighting convention. Instead I was kicking dirt in my own face while following the herd. My life was lived teetering on the edge. Determined not to follow the safe path for the sake of familiarity and comfort. My hope was that the back roads would lead to someplace different, but instead they took me to the exact same place. Living in doubt and fear and convincing myself that it’s just too irresponsible or silly or a “waste of time” to follow my own heart. And so my search continued.

My success was measured by society’s standards and when we do that we lose our inner compass and feed attention to our obstacles while dampening our inner desires. It’s like going through life clutching our neighbor’s prize and convincing ourselves it’s our own, or driving in the comfort and beauty of a Rolls-Royce without a road map to paradise.

A year ago I started writing this blog. For the first time I took my writing out of the closet and into the open air for the world to witness, critique and judge. My secret form of creative self-expression, in all its rawness and vulnerability, was exposed. Apprehension, self-doubt and fear were screaming with deafening might to put the nonsense aside and run for the hills. Writing was something writers did…who was I to claim such a role? And to do it with such audacity, shamelessly purging my life without restrictions.

Every time I wrote my heart sang and spirit soared, while my mind would have temper tantrums. It took a full year to calm the screaming, erratic and totally irrational noise that relentlessly fought to win. I meditated, binged on invigorating and empowering books, fully connected with inspiring and influential role models, and suddenly the world expanded before me.

My symbol for success stopped becoming something I could touch and claim, but rather something felt and experienced. Finally, I understood what it meant to live from the heart - to feel alive with passion and creativity. Moving beyond approval, status or expectation I inherited the ultimate trust fund – my inner truth. Soon steadiness and calmness were there even in the changing winds and pouring rains. There wasn’t a destination or prize that needed to be had in order to feel success and happiness. Experiencing the things I love NOW – without tags, requirements or restrictions became my symbol for success. I finally gave myself permission to write for the sake of writing. My stake was firmly planted in the ground, officially naming myself “Writer” - even without a published book or astute title.

The sense of liberation that comes from the loving confidence we offer ourselves is empowering and contagious. It leaks and spreads into all aspects of our lives, deepening all of our experiences with grace, intention and meaning. Writing has been my teacher. Blowing the dust out of my eyes so I can stop following the herd and veer off the defeated course of familiarity. It reminded me of what I always knew, even before sitting Nonno Saro’s lap at the well in Sicily almost thirty years ago.

“If you wait for skill before you dare anything, you will only wait and ache. Yet proceed with simplicity and you will inch, then launch, toward proficiency. Don’t ache to be great. Don’t desire and wait. Care enough about your gifts to get there.” – Tama J. Kieves

June 10^th 2012 is SmileWithYourEntireBody.com’s official first year anniversary. My heart leaps and tumbles with excitement as I reflect on the past months and anticipate the journey ahead. There is no plan, or agenda – maybe I’ll post more frequently, writing shorter posts on lighter subjects, or maybe I’ll post less often and instead start different writing projects. My goal it to keep writing, reading, learning, teaching, playing and smiling - and doing it all with passion and love in this very moment J

In honoring this past year, I’d like to extend my deepest and most sincere gratitude to the people who have helped me on my journey thus far:

A special and most sincere thanks to Mark Collantes, my writing mentor, coach and editor – without you I wouldn’t have made it past my first blog post, “Listening To the Whisper.” You have given me courage, support, strength and the will to continue to move forward.

To my mother-in-law Mary Dominick who has been my grammar coach and editor, thank you for your continued effort, encouragement and love. And to my husband, Pete Dominick, for reading and critiquing all my pieces, promoting, plugging, tweeting and face booking – without your support I would have never experienced the thrill of writing for an audience.

Thank you to Lisa Lampanelli, Patrick Meagher, Jenny Hunt and all my friends and supporters who’ve been spreading the word about smiling with your entire body.

And an abundance of gratitude to my readers – thank you for your feedback, your support and your wonderful insight. You have been my driving force. I’m excited to keep walking this journey with you. Keep smiling and Living From The Heart.

Fame, Power and Flashing Lights

2012-05-06T18:29:00.007-07:00

The Washington Hilton gleamed with stardom. The red carpet greeted its guests at the door. It glittered with flashing lights that lit along the walkway. Reporters stood in herd-like clumps. They heavily eyed the main entrance with a hunger that had them biting their lips. Anticipating the next high profile interview, they looked right past Pete and I. Reese Witherspoon sashayed over as the voices behind the cameras called, “Reese, over here!” Her smile even made the photographers blush. The first reporter to pounce asked the very important question: “What are you wearing this evening?” Stopping mid-step I couldn’t help but turn my head to hear the answer and stare. Full-length glamour pirouetting with flare, stiletto heels marking the runway, my eyes darting to every corner of the room absorbing the scene as if I were an alien visiting Earth for the first time. Welcome to The White House Correspondents’ Dinner, I thought, a night to forever remember.

“How do I know that guy?” I asked Pete, “Oh shit!” I quickly realized, “That’s Jin, the Korean guy from LOST!” Horrified at my naive outburst Pete shushed me, “Val, you can’t do that!” Stammering at his reprimanding tone, feeling like one of my daughters who had just been told to use “my inside voice,” I thought, “Well, I guess running into Jin in DC, after watching him save the world in my living room for eight seasons should be taken as completely normal; how ridiculous of me to react!”

Living in NYC for over ten years actually dulled my excitement for star-gazing. Spotting familiar faces that passed without even a glance in my direction was routine. But there were those rare moments, like sitting next to Sarah Jessica Parker in my OBGYN office, that left me breathless and dizzy. A small number of celebrities played roles that penetrated my heart so deeply a bond was created in my mind that felt real. Art touches our soul. Our spirit rejoices, sometimes so loudly we can’t help but feel affected. Acting is fascinating as a connecting art all its own. We create secret (and sometimes not so secret) relationships with relatable people on the screen, especially those who speak to our hearts and sing to our soul. The brain has a hard time distinguishing between real relationships and imagined ones, causing an unexpected reaction when coming face-to-face with our real-life superheroes.

I tripped over a heroine or two that night at the Washington Hilton. The White House Correspondents’ Dinner was my first real and intimate gathering with many of the famous and powerful. Mingling with high profile celebrities and laughing with Washington elites was hardly a typical night out, even for the wife of popular Pete Dominick. My husband’s career as a Sirius/Xm political personality, a CNN correspondent and a professional stand-up comedian had granted me some exclusive and exciting opportunities, but this topped the list.

It wasn’t just the George Clooneys or the Steven Spielbergs that had me buzzing with giddiness. Jostling elbows with politicians, journalists, authors, economists, was both humbling and empowering. These were the most influential people in the country making daily decisions with global implications and now here we were casually drinking wine while discussing our favorite iPhone apps.

While eating risotto and shrimp and awaiting the President’s comedy performance, I eyed the First Lady with a ferocious curiosity that had my heart soaring. Noticing a subtle smile on her face as if she just had an intimate thought she’d be too embarrassed to share. What settled on her mind and captured her emotion at that moment? How alluring she was. Graced with an indescribable softness, so delicate and gentle, but bound to a role that required fierce tenacity, intensity and conviction. I envied her thick layer of self-assurance that sheltered her and her family from the sneering opinions of the many who oppose her. As she engaged her neighbor, Jimmy Kimmel, in conversation my mind began daydreaming about her life. Did she get up every morning with her kids, sending Sasha and Malia off to school with a kiss and a brown paper lunch bag? Did she help solve math problems for homework after discussing foreign policy with her husband over a mesclun salad for lunch? How “normal” was a White House day living her life as the First Lady?

My blissful thoughts were interrupted with the first round of speeches. Once the President took the mic the laughter ensued, applause broke, and standing ovations took over. Jimmy Kimmel then stepped to the podium - his confidence reassuring, his jokes telling. Amongst a slew of hilarity, his most impactful line was this - “Everything that’s wrong with America is here in this room.”

With power comes an enormous amount of responsibility. Celebrities, journalists, columnists, the media - all have potential to influence the masses while politicians change destinies with a lobbyist and a vote on a bill. How easy is it to passively sit back and to pass blame onto the decision makers? How simple it is to watch it and become victims to their power? What if instead we courageously stood in our own? We have an inner podium and a microphone – why not stand-up and listen to our own voice with the same trust and confidence we offer others?

At times I wonder if owning our inner power is too much of a responsibility to claim. The fear of failing, of facing our faults and our weaknesses can paralyze us. We doubt our willingness to step into uncharted territory, no matter how grand and brilliant. This place, miles away from the familiarity of our fears, insecurities and inadequacies, is where our power resides.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." MarianneWilliamson: A Return to Love

When we move past our “deepest fear” we are able to live passionately. We discover an unstoppable magic that favors inspiration over practicality. Then it is easier to understand how ancient Egyptians carried brick-by-brick in the middle of a hot desert to raise pyramids, or how parents work two or three jobs to secure the health and happiness of their children. Tapping that universal Love brings an inner strength that takes us beyond any limitation our mind creates.

When we move away from love and stoke ego, desire and greed we make the dangerous transition from passion to lust. This is hazardous and reckless wanting. We push Love aside to make room for needless, superficial, and selfish gain. History is replete with people in powerful positions abusing their role to fill the emptiness they themselves create. How can we trust others to live from a place of love and passion, to make massive critical decisions and change lives for the better if we don’t first trust ourselves to do the same?

The red carpet is here for all of us, not just celebrities, policy makers, or media personalities. Flashing lights and rolling cameras aren’t there to validate our self-worth and site our talents. We have an innerlight that shines - brilliant, grand and powerful, but only if we have the courage to notice it and the faith to live it.

Let’s step onto gleaming paths that materialize beneath our feet, moving with love and prowess, discovering a unified self that soars on the wings of a heaven-sent wind.

Happy? YES!

2012-04-03T18:26:00.001-07:00

“Hakuna Matata what a wonderful phrase – it means no worries for the rest of your days, it’s a problem free, philosophy, Hakuna Matata!”

Timon and Pumbaa, the Lion King’s meerkat and warthog, sang my favorite Disney song on stage. Both my daughters watched with eyes wide and mouths’ agape. They were riveted. Fearing that even one blink might lead to missing a thrilling next moment. The live thirty-minute show at Disney World’s Animal Kingdom stirred something deep within me as I watched the reflection of the dancing lights in my daughters’ smiling eyes. The Lion King is my favorite Disney film. Back in college when the movie was first released, I was babysitting Ellis and Owen who were dubbed Mufasa and Simba. They’d play scenes in their entirety, rarely missing a line or skipping a beat. Together we’d sing Hakuna Matata at-full-strength (complete with my obnoxious tone-deaf ear) our arms flailing and hips shaking delirious with laughter. For those brief moments life was problem free without a single worry. Years later, I danced the same way with my daughters, singing Hakauna Matata wildly in our living room. We laughed with a penetrating joy that reached the top of my throat and swelled my eyes with tears that spilled over with happiness.

We were in Disney World, the happiest place on earth. Where the magic of smiling while crying happens often as a natural reflex. It’s our soul’s way of talking to us, that feeling, letting us know we tapped something authentic and pure. A happiness so profound it becomes visceral and palpable and uncontrollable. It’s occurrence, happening at the most unexpected moments, on its own, without warning. It is almost a whisper saying “This is the rapture of being alive: you are love, joy and happiness. Let this feeling be a reminder of who we all are.”

We stepped out of the cool darkness of the Lion King Theater straight into the hot glow of the Florida sun. The kind of hot where your skin, your clothes, and everything you touch feels sticky. It was like a hot water bottled plopped right in the middle of the park, making it fifteen degrees warmer than it was just before we entered the theater. “Time for a hotel swim!” Pete suggested. We all gave our biggest smile as we imagined the refreshing relief of splashing water. We raced our way out the park and headed straight for the bus.

After a long invigorating swim, I gladly welcomed the warmth of the sun. I lay poolside sipping a cool, fruity cocktail. Watching my kids frolic in the water, I thought of the word happiness – remembering the question Pete asked me years ago, only hours after we met.

“Are you happy?” he said.

“Yeah, of course, I’m happy, I’m having a great time.”

“No, I mean are you Happy? In general?”

Never had someone asked such a soul-stirring question, especially minutes after meeting. I stared at him blankly, unsure how to respond. “Happiness is relative,” I finally answered. Looking away and quickly changing the subject, altered the conversation but the question tugged at me for days and eventually years. Secretly revisiting it I’d ask, “Can I truly be happy?” Living happiness was never considered an option. I had happy moments, happy days even, but never was it a word used to define life. Life was cloudy with a chance of rain. Occasionally the clouds parted enough for the sun to break, but even then the landscape was fogged over with worry - anticipating the oncoming storm.

People who proclaimed happiness annoyed me to the point I had names for them: liars or deniers. “How can people be happy in a world filled with suffering and evil and so much ugly?” My intention was distraction from this harsh reality by doing anything to avoid paying attention. Beyond studying or working, I was partying…heavily. The thought of a happy life was simply too nonsensical to investigate.

The documentary happy highlighted one of the many precursors to happiness:

"It's the values we have that are the biggest indicator of our happiness," Belic learns. "Intrinsic goals such as personal growth, relationships and contributing to one's community are much more conducive to happiness than extrinsic goals like money, power and social standing", he discovered.

Turns out it’s a worthy inquiry. Happiness is real. Not just glimpses of it, but total and complete, living and breathing happiness. The magic happy pill has yet to be created even with all the Xanax and Prozac invented. The path to happiness clearly doesn’t come with an instruction manual. No simple solution for all humanity to follow. I often wondered why is it so challenging for many of us to be truly happy. We’re a complex species with an intelligent brain that tends to stand in our own way. We don’t embrace the fullness of our lives and potential as human beings. Navigating through our own capabilities, desires and intentions is a sticky process that doesn’t come easy. But we are constantly moving toward greater consciousness and awareness on the path toward a happier today. Evolution is ongoing.

Life can be mostly sunny with clear skies. We create the forecast for our own lives; the weatherman exists in our minds. If we tap into our hearts, our spirits will speak so loudly that our minds will have no choice but to predict brightness. Personal growth takes enduring effort, dedication and commitment, but the worthwhile result is a life filled living room dances and smiling tears.

Here’s to our unified individual and collective goal – a life filled with happy. Hakuna Matata!

The Feminine Spring: Birth of a New Woman

2012-03-05T11:38:00.011-08:00

Almost three hours of pushing had my body trembling with exhaustion. Finding the strength for one more excruciating effort was simply beyond my reach. The nurse, smelling of ammonia and spent perfume, held my hand while my husband stood on the sidelines cheering, “You Can Do This!” Tears swelled my eyes and fell down the side of my face, I screamed through clenched teeth, “I can’t! It’s too hard and I’m just too tired!” The drear of the hospital room felt cold but the fire within me kept my body drenched with sweat. Voices in the far distance were muffled by the dense, heavy sounds of my labor. If escape from myself were possible, I would have taken off running. But the brief silence before the next push helped reclaim my sanity. It was then that something cracked open inside of me, not unlike a watermelon, refreshing and soothing and sweet. Graced with a calming stillness my daughter who stirred within me connected. “There’s nothing to fight,” said the unheard voice, “it’s not a battle.”

Its been said that in the hours before an earthquake the winds steady to a hot breath, the clouds lay low and the birds fall silent. The power of nature, quite sure of its own strength, will announce itself with barely a whisper. Diving to the depth of myself, I salvaged my last bit of inner strength and transformed it into a tsunami. Only recognizable from within, my baby was the first to know. Instantly we began working together, in our final moments as one – simultaneously moving with the rhythm of life. My last push was visceral, permeating from someplace I never before felt; it was as if my daughter used my power to fuel her own and together we made it to the other side.

There are defining moments in life when everything changes, when we suddenly become different than we were the second before. A brief instant when time ceases to exist and we’re suddenly suspended somewhere between what was and what will become. In that timeless space we see ourselves completely exposed and raw, simultaneously staring at inner feelings of omnipotence and insignificance. Two contradicting worlds collide and separate as they embrace and release in a liberating dance.

It was in this frozen space of liberation, I met my daughter for the first time. Tenderness graced my spirit, my eyes softened and I transcended, moving into an existence that imploded with profound meaning. Feelings of euphoria flushed my senses, shedding the person I had just left behind. Self-centered, my ego knew no bounds and all obstacles fell by sheer force and will, never bending to circumstance or trusting in forces larger than myself. But at that moment everything that mattered was held in my arms. I was humbled with a new authenticity - softer, kinder, and infinitely vulnerable. Life emerged as something fragile and delicate. Everyday decisions were no longer routine; existence went beyond myself and although my life held more value as a mother, I’d give it up in an instant to save my child. In the same breath I hoped for more time. I wanted more years, no longer to accomplish my own dreams and desires but to nurture and watch my children accomplish theirs.

Seven years of motherhood have passed, and everyday brings humbling new lessons. It is a continuing journey of self-exploration expanding beyond my comfort zone to face issues otherwise ignored or pushed aside. I’m forced to acknowledge, dig deep and explore. Being reduced to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cubs, knowledge suddenly becomes real power. Not only do we need to know how to become better parents and individuals, we need to expand our base of awareness to include social and environmental issues, and political injustices. Matters as close to which foods to avoid, to as global as which toxins are in our environment. Constant self-examination of our own faults to the shielding of our children from hate breeding beliefs in our community, all become part of the child-rearing playing field. Building a generation on principles based on connection, love, and equality form the solid foundation necessary for progression.

Which leads me to the recent debate that has flooded the media – contraception. When we highlight archaic discussions in modern times, it appears as though we’re taking two steps back as a society. But rather than looking at it as a downfall, maybe there’s a dormant issue at play that needs addressing. Somehow I find gratitude in distasteful comments like Rush Limbaugh’s because without them we’d continue to be complacent in our thinking – never to challenge our sometimes corrupt and self-limiting belief systems. The undertone of this discussion is about inequality and man’s relentless need to control women.

Since the beginning of monotheistic religion, men have been in constant pursuit to oppress women. By degrading the self-worth of women, men have somehow managed to use women's bodies for their best interest. The one significant thing men cannot do that women can is bare a child. Man's insecure, power-driven ego must control even reproduction and women's bodies are means of reproduction. We live in a post-agrarian society where children are no longer just farm labor. it is time that we understand that there should be more adults than children to properly care for those children! Consider the places in the world that are most violent, erratic and destructive, they're generally places where there are many more children than adults.

Through centuries of oppression women have come to internalize feelings of inferiority to the point where it becomes perfectly natural to allow a man to dictate our bodily functions. Almost convincing ourselves we aren't smart enough to make our own choices about what is best for our sexuality, our bodies and our minds. Let's dare teach our daughters their value in society by helping them reclaim their bodies for themselves. Recognizing that their inner strength is more powerful than a society of men who need to oppress in order to feel success. Helping our daughters gain their self-worth by giving them the tools to rise above the self-limiting comfort zone that has been imposed on them is our duty as mothers. Let's give them the courage to take back what is rightfully theirs.

My dream is to watch my two little girls mature into confident, self-assured women who can sit in the space between what was and what will be. My hope is that they recognize the unifying connection that exists - between themselves and the universe and stand in the strength of their own power.

But strength increases in numbers and together we are powerful beyond mesure. We have the limitless ability to give birth to a new paradigm: one that celebrates our beauty and treasures it in the highest regard. Like labor we must sweat and push ourselves to the other side. Diving into the depth of our womanhood, we can salvage our inner strength by turning it into the power of a thousand tsunamis. With effort we stand united. Without the need to wage war we can collectively move forward with the pulsing rhythm of life, transcending a threshold of liberation.

Loving From The Inside Out

2012-02-21T10:23:00.000-08:00

Shortly after my teaching career in yoga began, I journeyed to my first yoga retreat. It was a secluded weekend at New York’s Omega Institute, a place labeled “The nation’s most trusted retreat center for wellness and personal growth.” I finally gave myself permission to go and felt compelled to spend it alone. Eager to gain a deeper perspective on myself, I packed up my Honda Civic and headed north. Leaving my family for the first time I was caught between two worlds, the selfless devotion of motherhood and the selfish journey of self-exploration. With the windows down and sunroof open the August wind blew through me, time utterly suspended. The earthen smell of cut grass filled my lungs while Adele’s “Rolling In The Deep” played on the radio. I cried but didn’t know why. Cranking the volume I sang like a 16-year old touching the steering wheel of freedom for the first time.

Upon arrival I circled the block twice focusing on the scene instead of the road ahead. There were trees that lined the road and gardens of lush colorful flowers that framed the property. Geese glided on the water in the mid-day sun. They dotted a small lake nestled in the near distance. Sporadic, far-removed homes added to the natural feel of country living. Pausing to breathe in the soft, fresh air that smelled of serene peace, I smiled to myself and thought: “This is going to be great.”

Time slowed. I walked to my room trying to take in all the sounds, scents, colors and noticed how alive the world is when we pay attention. There is a world beyond ourselves. After unpacking and eating dinner, I sat on a bench and stared at a tree branch: its veined leaves, the small buds of dormant flowers. Everything felt intense: the soft breeze on my skin, the smell of lilac, the cooing of doves – this is what it meant to be fully present.

Beyond the absence of distraction, my complete awareness allowed me to glimpse bliss.

My first class began with a morning meditation. In. Out. In. Out. I inhaled light, peace; I exhaled tension, fear. In the space between breaths was infinite consciousness, an awareness of inner radiance. When an instructor’s voice cracked through the silence, I nearly jumped out of my skin. But his soothing words lulled me back into a trance.

“When we spend time to know ourselves, we like to be alone because we love who we are,” he said in a heavy Brazilian accent, “We know and understand who we are, we know we’re whole.” Dharma Mittra spoke with certainty and grace; a man renowned in the yoga world, teaching since 1967, a master in the field. Standing barely five feet, his presence filled the room with a warmth and ease that resonated. Dharma Mittra’s simple yet profound statement remained close to me throughout the day.

Moving from class to class I became more conscious of my aloneness – discovering a layer of comfort within myself. For the first time Loving thy self began to make perfect sense. Self-love isn’t about high self-esteem – the idea of building the ego to the level where average isn’t enough, where striving for superiority in order to be worth more. In this world of social comparison, we tend to pump ourselves up by putting others down. This false sense of self-love has us on an emotional roller coaster ride. As soon as our feelings of superiority slip – as they undoubtedly will – our sense of worthiness plummets. We swing wildly from inflated to deflated egos, often leaving us insecure, depressed and anxious.

Dharma Mittra teachings had me speculating on the meaning of self-love. After reflecting, I recognized that although alone on my weekend of seclusion absent were feelings of loneliness. Not only did I feel love for myself but I loved the woman next to me on the mat - despite her perfect hair and a flawless inversions, the guy with blonde dreads doused in patchouli taking a vow of silence, I loved the sky, the trees, flowers and birds. Love was all around me because it was a part of me. When reality snapped me back I thought – it’s easy to feel love when you’re here, where all the energy is happy and free.

Now as I sit home in my living room alone on Valentine’s Day in the dead of winter, when light is sparse and the wind is cold with my kids in bed and my husband at work, I’m reminded of that retreat. For me Valentine’s Day isn’t about romantic dinners and roses – it’s a reminder of what Love is, pure Love that begins within. Far removed from the buzzing energy of a yoga retreat, where everything is bright and vivid, filled with hearts and smiles, the euphoria has passed but the lesson remains.

What exactly is self-love? It’s about meeting ourselves with compassion when self-esteem falls. Instead of harsh judgment or ridicule, embracing ourselves with kindness and encouragement, trusting that we are whole and worthy (see “The Power Behind Money”). It is not because we are better than but because we are humble enough to admit that at the very core we are all the same. By putting ego aside, we are able to learn from each other’s unique talents. We get out of our own way and stop claiming to already have all the answers, leaving us receptive to personal growth. This deepens our relationship with ourselves and strengthens the quality of our relationship with others.

"What we reach for may be different, but what makes us reach is the same." - Unknown.

Getting to know and love ourselves takes full-time dedication and commitment. The process can be frightening, painful, confusing and down right frustrating. Letting life happen is just plain easier. Why not be the passenger in the back seat? Observing the world from a car window moving 65 mph keeps us removed, at a safe distance from all that lies beyond. Why take hold of the steering wheel and face the world head-on? Why take the risk?

If we don’t change what isn’t working for us, we will continue to have the same day over and over again.

Not knowing and speculating is always more fearful than the knowing. If we continue to ignore ourselves, our inner voice becomes dull and hidden beneath layers of fear, insecurity, and inadequacy. Our restless monkey mind (see “stepping into fear") inevitably takes over, constantly swinging from past to future, from one emotion to the next. Life becomes an inflated personal soap opera existing solely in our own minds. Too caught up in our own drama we end up spending more time in our heads than our hearts. We can make the transition. Moving from obnoxious and self-limiting thoughts to the comfort, security and expansion of our heart. We touch the bountiful beauty within and come home, right where self-Love and universal Love reside.

And sometimes in the middle of winter when alone but not lonely, it helps to remember sunny warm summer days driving with the windows down and the music turned up, singing as if we’re 16-years old all over again.

Married to Stand-Up Comedy

2012-02-01T08:58:00.000-08:00

The third time the MC stepped on stage my nervousness rose and settled at the base of my throat. I stared at him with wide eyes as if watching a car accident rather than stand-up comedy. The laughter from the audience coaxed me back to reality, “he’s going to do fine,” I repeated to myself, “he’s been doing this for years!” Pete was the next comedian scheduled to perform; he was third on the list – perfect, I thought, just enough time for me to adjust and ease my nerves. It took a few extra minutes for me to warm-up to the first comedian before laughter took over and my anxiety hid under a pile of hilarity, almost forgetting that Pete was moments away from performing.

We’d been dating for a few short months. Ours was a long-distance relationship between Chicago and New York. Since we met I’d been skipping the streets of Chicago with a bounce in my step that attracted the smiles of perfect strangers. I had heard people say that when you meet the one you just know - a phrase I was never naïve enough to embrace until it happened to me. We met in the Swiss Alps, a fairytale encounter at the base of a mountain a few feet from Interlaken’s famous waterfall. That night under a dark star-lit sky and the glow of a full moon, we sat on the roof of our hostel and talked until the sun broke the night sky. Every so often he’d look at me and smile. It’s like melting, that feeling, but that night it was like rising, growing taller and watching sights over a hedge in colors never before seen – with each smile the colors grew more vivid and bright. It was then, only twelve hours after meeting that every cell in my body woke up to that knowing. My skin, my hair, the hollow behind my knees, every part of me filled with light; unexpectedly and without warning, I was officially struck by cupid’s arrow.

This was our third weekend together and apparently a perfect time for us to step inside the comedy world as a couple. Never had I imagined dating a man who performed for a living, considering I spent most of my life avoiding the spotlight instead of directly facing it. The mere thought of watching my guy practically naked, totally exposed and vulnerable in front of a live audience had me frantic. Young, fragile and insecure, I was paralyzed with a fear that had me questioning: What if he fails? What if he's not funny? What if he feels embarrassed? What if things change? Will I still feel the same way about him?

As Pete made his way toward the stage my stomach tightened with dread. It was heavy and hot, like a brick in the noonday sun. While chewing the last bit of nail polish off my nail I looked up and met Pete’s eyes. He smiled at me the way he did the night after we met, instantly bringing me back to the sensation of a soft gentle breeze on a warm day. Without thinking, I put my trust in faith and let go of fear.

“Worrying is like a rocking chair, it will give you something to do but won’t get you anywhere.” – proverb

That evening was an unexpected joy ride that permanently imprinted my heart. Pete’s strength, courage and confidence had me spinning with admiration. I had never witnessed vulnerability exposed in an open package of pride. His energy formed a connection throughout the room that put everyone under a spell of happiness transpired from a sarcastic honesty we all related to. I saw a man deeply rooted in himself, aligned to his truth, and expressing it fearlessly on stage (see Trusting Your Truth). It was my first real brush with genuine authenticity, giving me the courage to one day fully step into myself. Since then, I never again doubted Pete’s ability as a performer and soon noticed that his passion seeped into all aspects of his life, the stage merely an obvious expression of it.

When time horizons are long, as typical in our mid-twenties, we’re eager to explore with keen interest in all things novel. This new experience became a thrill, an adventure that kept me on the heels of suspense. But as life progressed and my carefree twenties develop into the heavy responsibilities of my thirties, the excitement of joke telling began to lose its flare. Jokes about my biteplate annoyed me. And questions like - “Is it really an absolute must to talk about our sex life on stage?” became regular conversation starters. We’d spend long hours arguing about what was “appropriate” on stage. Almost always parting from the discussion feeling like nothing was accomplished. In the end, comedy was about exposure. My life became ours and that meant I got stage time – no matter how I felt about the deal. Eventually the comedy scene began to wear on me, no longer a thrill ride but instead a heavy obligation. Nightmares haunted my sleep – dreams about standing on stage, and performing Pete’s act myself, told me it was time to take a break.

For a few years I rarely saw Pete perform – mainly because the newness of motherhood took center stage. Instead of a dark room full of strangers with a two-drink minimum to entertain, my audience was two little girls who required lots attention and an abundance of love.

Recently I’ve revisited the scene and was overcome with a new sense of wonder, as if watching him for the first time all over again. Did the content of his jokes change? Becoming less about me and more about life, politics and current events? Or did my reaction to his act change? Maybe it was a combination of both. These past years of dedicated personal growth have been a gradual process of self-awareness and discovery. Twelve years ago, when I first saw Pete perform there was an inner voice that knocked at my spirit giving me permission to one-day dig deep. I’ve since found the courage and strength to become better acquainted with my truth, revealing my inner world in all its pain and glory and creating an inner sense of comfort, security and trust (see Stepping Into Fear). This rooted foundation allowed me to watch our lives exposed on stage with a sense of pride and fulfillment. Sharing our stories with the intent to brighten the spirits of perfect strangers keeps me buzzing with happiness.

Pete’s performance made me laugh so fiercely for so long my abdominal muscles ached from overuse. My entire face hurt from sustaining a wide-open smile for over 45-minutes. It was a visceral uncontrollable laugh that affected my entire body, lifting my spirit so high that my feet barely touched the ground. I laughed not only because of my newfound self-confidence, I laughed because my husband was absolutely hysterical. The mood was set, the energy was high – and we as an audience felt connected to the guy on stage –we related to his story, his life, his family and thanks to him we took life less seriously, even if only for a short while.

Since that night, every time I watch my husband on stage (or eavesdrop on silly conversations/games he has with our kids or when he makes me spontaneously laugh out loud) I’m reminded of the important role laughter plays in life. It’s infectious and contagious; it binds people together creating a domino of joy and happiness. Nothing works faster or more dependably to bring your mind and body into balance than a good hearty laugh. It lightens burdens and offers added courage and strength to see new sources of meaning and hope.

Laughter is not always possible or even appropriate! But I’ve noticed that all laughter usually begins or ends with a smile. A smile in the dark by a mountainside under a moonlit sky led me to a life full of laughter. The memory of which still remains like the sunrise that followed. A mere smile can trigger the release of endorphins, hormones that promote an overall sense of well-being. Here’s a staggering statistic: children on average smile 400 times a day. Adults? Twenty times a day. Wouldn’t it befit us as adults to practice the art of smiling more often? It is a simple exercise of remembering something wonderful in the past or being grateful for the present. How could walking down the street wearing a contagious smile inspire other people? Hopefully people we pass will be positively impacted, return the smile or at the very least have them wondering what we’re up to! Witnessing this kind of chain reaction makes me wonder - what if just smiling is one of our most powerful tools for changing the world?

“A smile is like the stillness in winter when the snow dampens the sounds of the world.” – Mark Collantes

The Power Behind Money

2012-01-09T11:01:00.000-08:00

Fresh out of college, yet to make a mark on the world, I landed my first full-time job, proud and eager to flaunt my academia and contribute toward a better society. The working poor was what Chicago’s local newspaper, the Tribune, labeled all of us case managers working in the social health field. It is one of the sad ironies of modern life that people often seem to be paid in inverse proportion to their value to society. At first it didn’t bother me that I earned less in a five-day workweek than bartending a four-hour shift. I was making a difference helping Chicago’s neediest citizens. My clients were homeless, mentally ill substance abusers, most of them refugees or immigrants who considered the working poor a label of aspiration. I attempted to keep this perspective but my spirit thickened with despair. The job had me treading the dark waters of bleakness. It didn’t take long to realize that four-years of protected college courses did nothing to prepare me for a reality I would otherwise step right over, turn my head and ignore.

Getting acquainted with Chicago’s inner drug world was like rummaging through a musty, cold dark cellar with a lone dim-lit flashlight. Every turn was a blurry unknown without any clear divisions. Soon the light flickered on and the underworld once buried and ignored revealed itself in all its grueling misery. I recognized faces on the streets as shattered clients in my office – the same ones that looked up with watery eyes and a luminous raw fragility that spoke no hope. There was no discounting a reality that quickly and painfully revealed itself. Every corner was now met with heart-wrenching compassion for the tormented lives that shared our city streets.

Two years later I relocated to NYC and left my Chicago clients. As irony would have it, I left those who were chained to the bottom 1% of poverty, for clients in NYC who were dancing on top of their mountain of wealth (the group we now reference as the 1%ers). As a personal trainer in Manhattan’s upper west side, I walked through the homes of multi-millionaires, privy to how society’s elites lived their lives. I watched as an observer on the periphery of these contradicting worlds. It’s one thing to live these extremes, another to witness them. Remaining close enough to be affected yet far enough to view the scene in its entirety, it was like standing at the edge of a rocky overhang and watching the grace of Mother Nature at play while adding to feelings of omnipotence and rapture.

The clear distinction between these two groups is money. But beyond this obvious certainty, is what lies beneath. What we have coined the root of all evil has ironically come to resemble something of the divine. As Charles Eisenstein said in his article Living in the Gift: “It (money) is an invisible, immortal force that surrounds and steers all things, omnipotent and limitless, an invisible hand that, it is said, makes the world go’round. Yet, money today is an abstraction, at most symbols on a piece of paper, but usually mere bits in a computer. It exists in a realm far removed from materiality.”

We are a society bound by relentless greed, obsessively trying to fill a void we mistakenly believe can be filled by monetary possessions. We depend on money for survival, rely on it for comfort; when we have it we fear its loss and obsess about its gain. The bottom 1% with nothing, strive to gain something (in my clients’ case it was only crack cocaine they desired considering addiction was a prerequisite to enter the program), the top 1% with everything, strive to gain more – more money, more entitlements, more power.

Money’s original purpose was for convenience and fairness. Before money, there was barter – which wasn’t always fair. Currency allowed symbols and coins to be exchanged more efficiently. Money at its best should connect human gifts with human needs, so we may all live collectively in greater abundance. The concepts around money have come to generate scarcity instead of abundance, separation instead of connection. Now, the more we feed the ego with desire, the emptier we feel and the farther we divide as a people.

How do we stop praying to a profanity that transformed money into a reckless pursuit of wanting? How do we create new kinds of attitudes and beliefs around this invisible hand that makes the world go’round? Simply put, we begin within. We fill ourselves with self-worth, the kind that money can never buy. Instead of stuffing the void with excess of donuts, drugs, or another pair of stilettos we seal it with self-love, compassion, peace, trust and faith. We begin to rely on ourselves for our own inner happiness and contentment, gaining comfort simply from our own breath. In this frame of reference we see the sacredness in everything, including money. We value life as a gift given to us and we see the interconnection amongst all things.

Nature continues to give and we continue to take in abundance. Once understanding our dependence on taking, it becomes completely natural to give, for we cannot have one without the other. Only when our inner “tanks” are filled can we fully and eagerly give of ourselves. We cannot give what we lack.

“If you knew the power of generosity, you would not let a single meal go by without sharing it.” - The Buddah

Thousands of years ago the Buddha already knew what modern science is proving today. Research has found that the mere thought of giving money to charity activates the primitive part of the brain associated with the pleasures of eating and having sex. Chemicals like dopamine and serotonin are actually evoked by self-giving. But generosity isn’t only about money. Giving of ourselves is the greatest act of generosity.

Mike Dickson wraps up the power of generosity eloquently and concisely in his article “Reflections on the Generous Life”:

“A generous life involves putting more effort into looking after each other, becoming more actively involved in our own communities, speaking up for the poorest and most disadvantaged members of our society and becoming their champions and ambassadors. A generous life involves paying attention to the plight of the world’s poorest people and learning how we can help them, actively campaigning to save our planet, amassing fewer things we don’t need and withdrawing our financial support from those who are destroying our world for purely commercial gain. It involves acknowledging that we do care about the destruction of the rain forest, about preserving fish in the sea and tigers on land for our children to wonder at when they are grown up. It involves acknowledging that we value these things more than we value fabric conditioner.”

Maybe the next stage of human evolution will parallel what we are beginning to understand about nature – bringing forth the gifts within each of us, taking part in the natural exchange of giving and taking, and breaking the suffocating grasp money has on our spirit. Can we emphasize cooperation over competition and circulation over hoarding? Will we ever have the courage to trade a strong economy for a more compassionate, peaceful society that values people over profit?

I’m interested and eager in hearing your thoughts.

Childhood Magic - Does It Have To End?

2011-12-18T07:57:00.000-08:00

“I don’t like it when grown-ups kill animals and take their skin and fur to make things. When I grow up I’m going to make people stop doing that. I’m going to talk to the president about it.”

Ava casually spoke her thought out loud, as if discussing her favorite toy. She was leaning against the front door patiently waiting for the rest us to put on our jackets when her words stopped me mid-step. Amidst the chaos, her voice struck my core like a vibrating guitar string completing a chord. A tightness rose to my throat. Looking at my 6-year old daughter, I saw old-soul eyes, like she already lived a thousand years. Who told her this? What inspired such depth and activism at such a tender age? Questions sprinted through my mind only beaten to my voice by an attempt to express pride. Swallowing hard I said, “Well good for you Av -” My husband interrupted me with an effort to start a Save the Animals revolution. “And I’ll help you Ava, we’ll do it together!” He said. “No daddy, only I can do this.”

Her self-assurance was spoken with such conviction and grace, something most adults would envy. But it was her belief in endless possibilities that was most desirable. It was one of those “teaching moments” except this time it was the child giving the lesson.

In the car, on our way to see Santa, our discussion picked up right where it left off (before Ava interrupted with her very mature and unexpected comment). “Santa will want to know what you girls want, have you decided what you’re going to tell him?” Pete asked in his very adorable daddy voice. Julia spent a few minutes thinking but quickly came up short. She finally settled on another baby doll. Ava narrowed her choice down to “ anything animal.”

Still buzzing from Ava’s self-righteousness, I was half listening to the holiday cheer spread throughout the car. Overcome by the magic of childhood, I turned to face the window and noticed my reflection. My smile surprised me, unaware that I was wearing my happiness on my face. For those brief moments I was in a timeless dance with the universe, spinning on the axis of the world. Savoring the moment with the thrill of noticing it for the first time. Holding tight to that euphoric feeling, I settled into my chair and closed my eyes. My mind slowed and rested on the unique, and unassuming ways kids demonstrate the essence of living. By simply observing them we are blessed with a miraculous opportunity to see life lived openly and instinctively.

Kids: they dance before they learn there is anything that isn’t music. – William Stafford

I was twelve years old when I felt childhood innocence slipping away. In the darkness of my bedroom closet, I sat clutching my doll against the beating of my thumping heart. On the heels of adolescence, I was clinging to childhood, not ready to make the transition. I choked at the thought as the tears rolled down. Trading Raggedy Anne for Bon Jovi wasn’t the real problem, rather it was letting go of what Raggedy Anne represented that pulled my heartstrings: carefree playfulness, wishing on stars, believing in miracles, limitless potential and endless possibilities – all slipping through the hands of time.

Like most kids, I lived in my limitless imagination and relished all the possibilities, building a reality without borders until society gave me all the straightforward reasons to tuck my wild ideas aside. “Qualifications” or “credentials” had yet to enter my consciousness. After all, weren’t these just man-made restrictions? A demanding way to keep passionate newcomers with grand ideas constrained to the margins? Passion, faith and belief fuel dreams to fruition. Holding onto innate instincts, without allowing social norms, qualifications, or self-doubt to stand in our way of dreaming is real magic. By continuing to harness our imaginative energy we build a world that includes joy and possibility while fostering exciting dreams with a curious drive to chase them.

The continued belief that anything is possible is what creates opportunity.

At twelve my young mind was convinced that only in childhood are we allowed to dream so I did what was expected and tucked my fantasy world aside, secretly hoping that one day we’d meet again. It wasn’t a smooth transition - I was a closet doll lover for months before I finally put away the Barbie Van. But soon lipstick shades and boy bands trumped My Little Pony. It was years later when I discovered that, despite what I’d been told, blowing dandelion seeds into the air or throwing pennies into a fountain are timeless. It’s never too late to whisper our secret desires into the ears of the universe and wait for signs that we’ve been heard.

And that is something both my daughters will always be encouraged to do.

So the next time you see a shooting star, or find yourself in front of a birthday cake filled with blazing candles, give yourself a gift. Go back to the magical realm you knew so well as a child, close your eyes, open your mind, lead with your heart, and make a wish.

Religion - And Where My Questions Led Me

2011-11-29T08:45:00.000-08:00

Religion – a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, especially when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.

“God will punish you and send you straight to hell if you dare cheat on another exam, young lady!” She said with a harsh and stern voice that echoed in the hall of C Wing at St. Michael’s middle school.

Sister Immaculata looked directly at me, penetrating my soul with beady eyes that hid behind black trimmed pointy glasses. Every time she spoke, the wrath of God spoke too. There was nothing warm or fuzzy about her. When she wasn’t spitting daggers of fear directly into your heart, she stood fully erect and maintained an angry expression that repelled perfect strangers. Her face was tense –sustaining a crinkled nose and pressed lips. The corners of her mouth pointed downward and exaggerated wrinkles in her forehead kept her brow furrowed. I wondered if maintaining such a constant expression could exhaust a person or perhaps cause facial cramps.

I stared at her perfectly pressed black and white uniform that draped her narrow frame. My eyes fell upon the crucifix that rested on her flat chest. Rather than look directly into her eyes, I kept my gaze upon Jesus and apologized. The cartoon bubble above my head really said: “I’d rather spend eternity in hell than one second in heaven with a judgmental prick like that.”

I questioned everything growing up, as most inquisitive kids do. The answers given about Catholicism were never satisfying. The more I questioned the more I was told not to ask. “You don’t question, you just accept,” my father always told me. Eventually the question became why I wasn’t allowed to question? The obvious answer was: Questions lead to thinking. Think enough and you’re liable to come up with different answers. Definitely different from what religion has tried to convince you to believe.

Walking the halls of those parochial schools, I wondered if my reluctance to accept the hard-pressed teachings were obvious. I felt the warmth of attention, as if a beam of light was shining down on my head labeling me as the unfaithful sinner. After all, those were my “obnoxious” questions during religion class. There came a point when I was torn between the terror of going to Hell and relief of thinking Catholicism was just ludicrous nonsense. The internal struggle lasted for years. When my heart was allowed to lead, I found comfort in the position.

The hypocrisy was what grated my nerves. Things like: abortion is an atrocity but YAY for capitol punishment! Thou shall not kill, except for: witches, homosexuals, children who strike or curse their parents, fortunetellers, adulterers, women who fornicate, non-believers,…..and the list continues.

Lev. 20:13, "If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act; they shall surely be put to death. Their bloodguiltness is upon them"

You should not let a sorceress live. (Exodus 22:17 NAB)

Whoever strikes his father or mother shall be put to death. (Exodus 21:15 NAB)

If a man commits adultery with another man's wife, both the man and the woman must be put to death. (Leviticus 20:10 NLT)

Then, there’s this irony: “We’re all made in the loving image of God.” Well, except women, of course. Women certainly are not. Women are not allowed to serve God as men are; women should only serve men.

"Let a woman learn in silence with all submissiveness. I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over men; she is to keep silent." (1 Tim 2:11-12)

At some point I realized there were hundreds of different beliefs that represent our planet, and not every belief centered around Jesus Christ as the Lord and savior.

"If you confess with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.

I never dared asked Sister Immaculata what happened to those who didn’t believe Jesus is Lord. But I assumed they went straight to hell with the rest of the sinners (along with the sixth graders who cheated on math exams). The image of a Hell cramped with a gazillion anti-Christ sinners, while Heaven, in all its vastness, held the few Christian souls who followed the strict word of God – had me laughing with disbelief as I wondered why perfectly sane adults could believe such absurdity.

An all-loving God translates to – A God who loves the selected few who follow his specific rules.

Organized religion wants us to relinquish our power to those who proclaim to have the answers. We lose faith and doubt ourselves. It inhibits our ability to think straight. But any clear thinker who looks at what religion has done must begin to question the validity of any God. Ironically, the very thing religion tries to prevent can be the source of what drives people away from believing. We begin to equate God with religion’s interpretation of God. Religion creates agnostics and atheists. It fills our hearts with fears and worries of a vengeful God, teaches us that we must have an intermediary to reach God, and commands us to worship (every Sunday morning at 8am and twice during the school week with class).

Many religions have not only separated man from God, but man from man and man from woman. Moving us further away from the innate instinct of universal oneness and interconnectedness by perpetuating a competitive nature amongst man and emphasizing separateness (among each other and ourselves). God has become this personified elusive man in the sky, separate from everyone and everything. What happened to being made in the image and Likeness of God? And God is within each and every one of us?

We are left searching outside of ourselves, instead of discovering what is within. Looking for God out there, gives us permission to look out there for everything else, including validation, self-worth, love, peace, tranquility, joy and truth. This disconnection leaves us lost, anxious, fearful and empty. To keep some resemblance of identity, we hold onto shared beliefs in our community; this in turn gives us a perception of acceptance and belonging. While creating communion with our shared members, we create separation amongst non-members, waging wars in proclamation of a God who is better than yours.

This sense of togetherness, community and tradition are probably the hallmarks that have sustained most religions throughout the years. We as humans, have an innate need to connect. Our most popular religions, ironically, manage to connect as equally as they disconnect. Beyond this, they provide answers and offer security. Most of us aren’t prepared to look within for answers. As Marianne Williamson states: “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?”

I confess I too have turned to religion for guidance, mainly Buddhism. Like most of us, I am a seeker looking for answers to the unanswerable questions. The human condition moves toward evolution wanting desperately to better understand ourselves and our universe. We are propelled by science because it provides knowledge and insight. In some sense religion picks up where science leaves off. Religion offers answers that science has yet to discover. What happens after death? What is our purpose? What created the universe? What is a soul? What is God? In other cases, religion’s doctrine prevents the progression of science – the advancement of stem cell research is one example. And when science disproves religious dogma –(creationism was discredited when evolution was discovered – the earth revolves around the sun)– religious people, bound by their faith, refuse to believe in science for fear of abandoning the church. This loss in reality limits the potential to raise human consciousness and thus stalls the advancement of humankind.

This is why I’m drawn to the uniqueness of Buddhism. It doesn’t offer absolutes, instead it provides sensible insight into the unknown (What is intuition? What propels us to feel? Where does inspiration come from? How do we gain inner peace and strength? What is human suffering and how can we lessen it in our own lives and in societies?). Rather than enabling, Buddhism invites us to be less fearful of our own brilliant power and offering a safe place to learn how to trust (through our own experience). By encouraging inner-strength we are motivated to connect within. This connection inevitably ties us to our neighbors. Our universe creates a belief system based on tolerance and inner-trust while surrendering fear. We let go of the thinking mind and its need for absolutes. Connecting instead to a deeper presence within, and trusting the inner voice that speaks clear wisdom even without the limited understanding of our thinking minds.

(I found a website that explores the fundamental differences between Buddhism and Christianity. For further reading visit http://www.evidencetobelieve.net/Buddhism_vs_Christianity.htm)

There must have been a time before organized religion, when every man lived not from fear, but from love – pure love; when we celebrated all bodily functions as great gifts of life instead of feeling shame or guilt for experiencing pleasure; when we reached God by simply living a life in goodness and truth; and when we adored God simply because it was impossible not to.

But Religion is so interwoven into the fabric our lives, politics and beliefs, I often wonder if we will ever experience liberation from its binding grasp. Will we ever outgrow our belief that we need a moral code to govern the conduct of human affairs? Hope leads me to believe that one-day our collective consciousness will be raised to a level where we embrace our inner power and let go of the insatiable need to control. And when that day comes, we will see ourselves not as Christians, Muslims, or Jews but as brothers and sisters made from the same substance and united by the same energy that formulated the entire universe.

“God is everything, and God becomes everything. There is nothing which God is not, and all that God is experiencing of Itself, God is experiencing in, as, and through us.”

Dharma - Our Individual Life Purpose

2011-11-06T17:50:00.000-08:00

Deepak Chopra explains the Law of Dharma:
The seventh spiritual law of success is the Law of Dharma. (Dharma is a Sanskrit word that means "purpose in life.") This law says that we have taken manifestation in physical form to fulfill a purpose. You have a unique talent and a unique way of expressing it. There is something that you can do better than anyone else in the whole world - and the creative expression of your talent is the spark that creates affluence. Expressing your talents to fulfill needs creates unlimited wealth and abundance. There are three components to the Law of Dharma. The first says that each of us is here to discover our true Self. The second component is to express our unique talents; the expression of that talent takes you into timeless awareness. The third component is service to humanity. When you combine the ability to express your unique talent with service to humanity, then you make full use of the Law of Dharma.

Congratulations, Mr. Chopra, (someday I hope we are on a first name basis, Deepak). You wrapped one of the most loaded words in any language (purpose) into a pretty little simplified package. I embrace it, accept it and love it, but maybe you’re missing one very significant part. What if we’re one of the (gazillion) unfortunate ones who spend a lifetime trying to figure out what our dharma is? What if we are always chasing an elusive goal and seeking an underlying purpose? How many times in my life have I said, “This is it!” or “I’ve finally figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life!” Only to turn around, practically seconds later, and say, “This definitely isn’t it.”

More than is worth counting.

I was contemplating this while sitting in the doctor’s office, waiting for the radiologist to deliver promising news about my right breast. One short week had brought a whirlwind of emotions. After the phone call, and my moment of zen on the sofa –which consisted of stars, sun and earth – I was convinced of my untimely early death. I stood and did what any strong-minded person would do in such a moment – I sulked. After the pity fest, I reflected on all my past accomplishments while mulling over future goals (that may, of course, never be realized). Fortunately it didn’t take long to regain my sanity and gather all my senses. It was time to find the opportunity in this otherwise, confusing and frustrating situation. What was the lesson? I had come to fully embrace the idea of just “being”, (as quoted by Dr. Wayne Dyer) in my last blog post. Was this “death” scare purpose and being beginning a dance together? As always, these moments of zen tend to be fleeting, and soon again, I was agonizing over what to do for the rest of my LONG life. Death and cancer took a back seat, until a week later when they sat on either side of me in the waiting room of the Nyack Breast Center.

“This birthday sparked a premature, and somewhat benign mid-life crisis,” I thought.

I began to read a book hoping to distract myself from the pursuit Dharma while drowning out the C word. A page had barely been read when the nurse’s voice startled me by saying, “Ms. Vendrame, there’s a friend here to see you.” “What?” I was confused and thought to myself, “Surely I misheard her. Nobody I know could be here right now.” Before getting clarification from the nurse, my dear friend, Lisa, walked through the door with a smile that lit up the room. Questions accompanied absolute disbelief. “Are you kidding me? What are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?” We hugged for a bit longer than usual. I tried to verbally express my heart-felt gratitude. At that very fragile moment, in shock, I was barely able to string together two sentences to express my deep appreciation. But she knew and later the words found themselves.

While Lisa’s support and love were present, I also remembered my friend and neighbor, Cara. She was watching my girls while I was away. My mind drifted to my mother-in-law and husband; both texting nonstop, desperate for Doctor’s answers, but asking in ways that helped me smile. At that moment of reflection much of what I learned, read and preached sprang to life.

We can read the same message in a thousand different forms have it told to us in plain and obvious language, but it will pass right through us until we accept the pleasure of fully experiencing it with complete awareness.

What if just being translates into living our purpose, our dharma? What if our purpose has always been with us but we haven’t had the awareness to fully experience it? Like Dorothy’s ruby slippers –she always held the answer. It was with her from the beginning of her journey. She held the power to return home. No one else could get her there. Yet she searched with desperation all over the land of make-believe before fully realizing her own inner wisdom.

Sometimes we need a wizard to tell us or show us a hundred different ways before we notice our ruby slippers.

What if - “Everything We We Need” is really “What We Already Have?” What if all we need is to believe and Trust Our Truth? What if living from that place of inner compassion, love, peace and tranquility – transmits those elements into our world? Doesn’t a deep connection with each other through greater awareness raise our collective consciousness? Wouldn’t that be a fulfilling purpose?

I walked out of the Nyack Breast Center that day differently than when I walked in. There was nothing life threatening about my right breast – unless dense breast tissue poses a health risk. “Everything looks good, we’ll see you in a year,” the doctor confirmed, as I wrapped the white robe around my waist.

Leaving the office and walking down the hall, I paused by the elevator and hesitated for a moment before pressing the down arrow button. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and listened to the silence. A whisper came, “Stop searching for the answer, you are living it! The more you keep chasing something for the future, the less you’ll be present to what is in here – right beside your right breast. Listen to your heart. Tomorrow isn’t any better than today, just like today isn’t any more significant than yesterday. But fretting about what you NEED to be doing is wasting precious time, the searching will never end, and today will always be lost amongst the sorrow of desire. Embrace this and life will blossom, living each moment purposefully and dharma will reveal itself.”

And Dharma did. When I released control, gave into Trust, and surrendered to Faith, I discovered the sacred in everyday life. This courageous leap of faith led me into uncharted territory. Standing at the edge of a precipice and looking out over the abyss without fearing the unknown.

I'm curious. Who feels like they're living their purpose? who has yet to figure it out? who is in a place of conflict? and who doesn't even believe in this thing called purpose anyway? Let's start a discussion.

The "Higher Risk" Society

2011-10-15T17:27:00.000-07:00

I opened my eyes before the alarm clock sounded. It was unusual to have an extra thirty minutes. With an extended yawn, I wrapped the oversized comforter snuggly around me and rolled back over, desperately wanting to go back to sleep. It was then that I remembered.

The day was September 29th.

There were years when almost the entire morning disappeared before I caught wind of the date. Once, while mindlessly beating eggs for a Sunday morning brunch, my daughter rushed in with her arms wide open and screamed, “Happy birthday mommy!” Her greeting and comforting hug brought tears of disbelief. I hugged her for longer than usual and thought, “Oh my god, she’s right! It’s my birthday!” My amazing 3-year old daughter had to remind me.

This year the date did not surprise me and I knew even while asleep. I’ve celebrated the 29^th day of September for 36-years. It’s a day I’ve learned to hold in reverence. With each passing year it has become more sacred than the year before. I honor it with much consideration and attention, for it is the day I was graced with a life to fully experience.

Lying in bed, I stared blankly at the ceiling. Shadows danced off the white canvas above me, as the ceiling slowly transformed itself into my mind’s projector screen. A life story began to play itself on rewind, the last twelve months moving deliberately. Month by month, I watched the year unfold. I felt a fleeting sense of pride as I witnessed another significant year of growth and transformation. Soon the years began to accelerate at a faster pace. Motherhood, marriage, and finally the far and distant memories of my early twenties – my time of searching and near obsession with self-discovery, self-inquiry and exploration. Although filled with self-doubt and uncertainty, every turn held the thrill of adventure and every corner revealed a new discovery. Life was bursting with possibility. I paused there and wondered, “Is anything still possible? Or is time slipping away too quickly for me to dream? And, although I feel wiser, how much self-knowledge have I really gained? Even now I'm still constantly questioning what I should be doing; still wondering where I should be, what I should do, and what my next step should be. STILL ‘should’ing on myself! But, at least now I’m AWARE that, maybe, I've been asking the wrong questions."

The movie of my memory and imagination faded into the present. I sat up in bed as the shadows shifted from the ceiling to the wall and meditated for a particularly longer period that morning. Eyes closed and hands resting gently on my knees, I focused on my breath. Hoping that the simplicity of just being would welcome a ray of divine inspiration and a clear and precise understanding of what I need to be doing.

That didn’t exactly happen. Instead, Dr. Wayne Dyer’s words of wisdom came – “We’re not human doings, we’re human beings.” Our ego has this insatiable desire to be a somebody who is more important the other somebodies – which perpetuates the idea of separateness and moves us away from Oneness. We have learned early in life that doing something better or earlier than someone else gets rewarded and in turn we are valued. We evaluate ourselves by comparing ourselves to other “doers” and validate our self-worth by what we do.

“If we are what we do, then when we don’t or can’t we aren’t.” – Dr. Wayne Dyer

As our physical bodies naturally age, we notice a gradual decline of our physical abilities – unable to do what we once did. Bound by our egos, our worthiness begins to diminish and we slowly spiral into a whirlwind of self-pity, sadness, and hopelessness. Dr. Wayne Dyer proclaims in his book The Shift, that to conquer this we have to move away from our tendencies to be right or to be better. We need to release our need to control. This doesn’t mean losing our drive; instead it is realigning our ambition to a life based on meaning, rather than on possessions or titles. Detaching ourselves from the need to accumulate, we actually gain more. Withdrawing the pressure to achieve at any price, we end up feeling more significance and peace in our lives – trusting that we are exactly where we need to be.

There goes that word trust again (see Trusting Our Truth). Skimming through my life, no matter how many things I’ve wanted to accomplish or managed to achieve –the most challenging and elusive goal is to Trust. Perpetually I remind myself to “let go and let God.” – AKA – “let go and trust in my inner power.”

It’s amazing what happens once we’re ready to commit to something – as Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe – once wrote:

“Until one is committed, there is a hesitancy, the chance to draw back. The moment one definitely commits oneself then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would otherwise never have occurred. Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.”

Remembering this helped ease my woes for a few minutes – enough to motivate me to get out of bed and get my birth-day started. Arising, my phone lit up with a few birthday texts. Reading the happy wishes, I thought, “Where was texting years ago when I could have used these early morning reminders?”

"I’m getting old," I admitted to the drab reflection in the bathroom mirror. A toothbrush in one hand, I glared at the reflection with the sour taste of youth slipping away. Gray hair mixed freely with brown, fine lines fanned my forehead (which somehow overnight graduated to full blown wrinkles) and I swore at that moment my eyes sunk deeper into my skull. With a sigh, and while contemplating my own mortality, I began brushing my teeth.

Yes, slowly I'm inching my way toward degeneration – and in a week I will have my first scheduled mammogram – so there’s my proof (I can be so ridiculously dramatic).

Someone once said that if you live in the moment you never age. Something worth considering, right? This is another huge motivator to be mindful and present. But is it really possible to always live in the moment? Of course not. The aim is to live more mindfully than not. I’ve come to realize and fully to accept that even if we are fully aware, deep in our core, of our Truth – we still need constant reminders and encouragement. We need to experience a spectrum of emotions - always. With time, we learn how to mange them, and we learn to understand them with greater clarity – but we still need to feel them. We need to notice the sensations and bring our awareness to the physical feeling, the mental changes, and the spiritual Truth.

A week after my birthday I somehow landed (with great protest) at the Nyack Breast Center waiting for a routine, baseline mammogram. The number thirty-six was just getting comfortable until I realized it meant an automatic entry to the “higher risk” society. It may take a few more weeks to get used to that new status.

After exposing, pressing, stretching and squashing both breasts to the point of complete astonishment – I was sent home with a pink umbrella. “It’s breast cancer awareness month; we’re giving away umbrellas to celebrate,” the tech said as she handed me the pink tube. I was massaging my mishandled boobs, still in complete disbelief of their treatment, and thanked her saying, “I guess this is the reason why women’s breasts start to sag once in they’re in their forties! Having this treatment once a year will misshape anything!”

The next day the phone call came:

“This is the Breast Center in Nyack. Is Ms. Vendrame in?”

“Speaking.”

“You came in yesterday for a mammogram?”

“Yes, is there a problem?”

“The doctor would like you to see you. You’ll have to come in for a few more pics and a possible ultrasound.”

My knees went weak as beads of perspiration dripped down my back. I wanted to sit, lay, throw-up, but instead I made my way to the calendar to schedule the damn appointment. Bile rose to my throat as I thought, “What the FUCK?! Is she kidding me? What the hell does this mean? Oh! MY! God! I’ve got cancer! But I can’t! Breast cancer doesn’t run in my family! I’m still young – right?!? Wait, no, not really young, but still too young for cancer! I’m a healthy person - I run, I do yoga, I eat organic! No way! I can’t have cancer. I don’t have cancer. But I’m sure she’ll probably be totally vague with me if I ask for specifics. Why can’t they ever handle these type of calls with a little more heartfelt compassion?!”

“And why is that? Did she find something suspicious?” trying to keep my voice steady and confident.

“I don’t know ma’am, she may just need to do a more thorough exam. I cannot say for sure. Her next appointment is in two-weeks.”

“WHAT?! Don’t you have something sooner?” Asking a little louder than my steady confident voice of a few seconds before.

We finally negotiated an appointment for a day the following week. I hung up and realized that there were more than seven days to think about the possibility of biopsies, chemo, radiation, death, and the afterlife.

Making my way to the sofa, I rested my head on the pillow and stared at the white canvas above. In my mind’s eye, the universe began to reveal itself in all its vividness and vibrancy - the stars, the moon, the sun, and the earth moving together in a synchronistic dance – with profound and deliberate intentions.

Suddenly what I’m going to do with year number thirty-six really didn’t matter. Instead, Being became more of a priority.

Part II of the story will continue in the next blog post. Stay connected. I look forward to reading your comments.

InSpire Me

2011-09-26T15:20:00.000-07:00

The hot moist summer air filled my lungs as I raced across the familiar hidden trail. It smelled of moss and wet earth despite the blaze of the blistering sun. Branches littered the path - remnants of yesterday’s massive storm. The hurricane had been named Irene. Her category I force touched land the night before. Gusts of winds nearing 85 miles an hour, she fiercely made her way through the North Eastern coastal states and was a reminder of earth’s abounding power. The storm’s destruction; broken power lines, fallen trees, and flooded streets – all amidst a tranquil backdrop of blue skies. My steady pace was marked by the sount of sticks cracking beneath my feet. The sunrays rained through branches and extended toward earth. I eagerly ran toward the brightness of a beam and closing my eyes felt its acceptance. The surrender was complete serenity. My face flushed red from both the strength of the sun and the blood pulsing through my veins. My heart beat against my chest as I ran with the rhythm of my breath, droplets of sweat periodically falling from my brow, stinging my eyes. Suddenly, I had this intense urge to veer off course.

The trail led deep into the woods. I slowed to a crawl and caught my breath. Walking into a bright clearing I gazed up at the sun, pausing for a moment to let its warmth comfort me. The path continued through the woods and ended abruptly with the grass edge falling directly into our neighborhood lake. Across the calm waters, a family of ducks and ducklings caught my eye. We shared a moment of contentment together before they swam off. Smiling I looked ahead and noticed one lonely tree in the far off distance, its leaves turning a bright shade of red and was reminded of autumn’s approach.

Being so close to nature has a calming and almost hypnotic effect. Making myself comfortable on a rock, my memory thought of the story of Siddartha. He had left the comforts of his royal palace to live secluded in the forest - Never before had I empathized with this concept than at that present moment. Connecting to the world around me, I felt inspired.

in·spi·ra·tion–

1. Stimulation of the mind or emotions to a high level of feeling or activity.

2. An agency, such as a person or work of art, that moves the intellect or emotions or prompts action or invention.

3. Divine guidance or influence exerted directly on the mind and soul of humankind.

4. The act of drawing in, especially the inhalation of air into the lungs.

Feeling drawn to meditate, I closed my eyes and my presence expanded. Inwardly and outwardly connected simultaneously. In that moment I was a part of everything and everything was part of me. If you believe in a divine presence and in fate and that occasionally the universe collaborates to remind us that we’re all connected – then you’ll probably completely relate to this unmistakable feeling. If, on the other hand, you don’t buy any of the spiritual talk, but have felt a connection to nature, then you’ll probably still relate. And if you don’t relate at all but are slightly curious, keep reading.

While most people around town were assessing their damage, I was gratefully connecting to the calmness after the storm. With an intake of breath – an inspiration – I awoke from my trance and began to contemplate the word inspired.

“What is our deepest inspiration, not solely as individuals but as a society? What is our inherent drive? Our inner most desire? And what inspires us to follow it?”

Fundamentally, we have an innate instinct to connect and progress. We strive for an evolution that brings this forth. For hundreds of years we have acted against nature by ignoring this instinct, and instead defined ourselves as separate from our world. There isn’t enough out there, and others may get to it first, so I must get my share– each man for himself, and each society for itself. We have been caught up with the belief that we are distinct and wholly separate. Nature’s most basic impulse is not a struggle for dominion but a constant and irrepressible drive for wholeness. As Charles Eisenstein states in his article Living in the Gift - “By divorcing soul from flesh, spirit from matter, and God from nature, we have installed a ruling power that is soulless, alienating, ungodly and unnatural.” We have adopted a world that has been stripped from its sacredness – believing that the divine is separate from ourselves, and separate from the material world leaves us feeling less connected and less inspired.

I compare the universe to the human body (I found a way to marry the two things that fascinate me most). So, let me explain my simplified example of Oneness as it relates to the human body. The gene is unaware of the cell, the cell is unaware of the organ, the organ unaware of the body, but each tiny spec within the body has a purpose and each works collaboratively to achieve the one unified goal – the progression of life. The universe is one body and we’re the microorganisms that support it; as we work together we keep it breathing and evolving.

Could sacredness again become part of our worldview as we recognize our interdependence: that all beings depend for their survival on the web of other beings that surround them. Then we can easily find the inspiration to move forward, working with each other instead of against, and advancing toward a collective state of higher consciousness.

Creative energy is a strong force that links connection with progression. The technology industry continues to advance, creating software and devices that move us toward advancement and ironically in an attempt to have us more “connected”. Artists produce paintings, music, poems, stories – all with the deep-rooted intention to inspire and connect us. But we have lost this awareness to greed, desire, attachment and ego.

Sitting in the stillness of nature was the inspiration for this blog post. Expanding our awareness – opening our mind to possibilities while taking the time to connect with our inner selves, then maybe we can better connect with everything beyond our physical boundaries.

“There is no They, there is no Them, there is only Us.” - Dalai Lama

When I contemplate my personal life inspirations – (the things that stimulate my mind or emotions to a higher level of activity, with divine guidance) – I’m directly led to my two adoring daughters, Ava and Julia, shining stars who transform the drear of a rainy day into a bright glow of sparkling light. My husband – whose compassion, love and drive inspires me to be better every day. And the endless list continues: Nature, my Truth, meditation, contemplation, solitude, deep spiritual connections, love, friendships, family, peace, art, reading, music, compassion, connection, yoga and of course – writing. Writing is an avenue to channel my creative energy. I’m not only inspired to write, but writing inspires me.

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t write. I’ve kept diaries and journals since the moment I learned how to string words together to form sentences. Exposing myself on paper was always a therapeutic form of self-expression - an avenue for self-discovery and exploration. It became a necessity for my emotional and spiritual growth - sought after release for inner clarity. Since starting this blog my writing has transformed. Writing for an audience is much different than writing for the self. The passion that fuels the writer is connection. Writing for myself brought me closer to my truth, but writing for others deepens my connection with the world.

This beautiful quote about writers that I thought sums it up perfectly –

“We dream about sharing secrets, about healing wounds, about providing insights and about solving problems. We dream about moving people with hearts of stone and about comforting people with hearts a-bleeding. We dream about righting wrongs and championing causes. We dream about affecting people and making them laugh. We dream about teaching and learning; we dream about telling people who we are, who they are, who we all are.” - Marilyn Beker

And that dream is what inspires me to write.

On our family vacation in Italy (see blog post Forgive and Live) I had extra time to read a few fiction novels (The Book Thief, The Academy, and The Help). I hadn’t read fiction in over a year – sticking mainly to nonfiction and memoirs. Because I was so heavily affected by these novels I was inspired to try my own hand at fiction. Maybe, I thought, one day I’ll be inspired to write my own piece of fiction. And so for the first time, I’m writing a short story.

When it is completed I will post it on my blog. I look forward to your feedback.

I’m eager to hear what inspires you. What excites you enough to create a long deliberate inspiration?

What passions fuel your desire to connect or progress? What makes you dance as if no one is watching or sing as if no one is listening? Pay attention to that – because that is your soul’s way of speaking to you. Find your inspiration, listen to your inner instinct and then commit yourself to being fully present to it.

Forgive and Live

2011-09-05T07:03:00.000-07:00

“If you think you’re enlightened spend a weekend with family and then reevaluate.”

It was early in my yoga career the first time I heard that statement. The beginning stage is when everything is new and blissfully exotic; where you start to connect meaning with every movement and every breath. This phase in a relationship is where the fantasy of the next encounter keeps a smile etched as a permanent expression on your face. Your eyes are glazed with a sweetness that permits a glimpse of perfection. The thought of this new romance causes your body to tingle and palms to sweat. At that eager stage of my yoga affair, every morning began by chanting the sweet sound of OM in a class filled with equally fervent yoga students. My mat time triggered new thoughts and lessons learned.

On that day, that particular lesson resonated a bit deeper than usual. The room erupted with a penetrating laughter immediately after the above quote left the instructor’s lips. It left everyone smiling for the remainder of the class. We all recognized the truth behind the sarcasm. As if to say – “the struggle to deal with our own inner conflict is challenge enough! And when we think we’re on the brink of clarity – where we’ve finally met ourselves with truth and lived the pleasure of peace and joy – it is then that the angry and guilt-ridden relative appears. It may be a test to push us even further toward growth and evolution or it may just be an annoying dilemma.” Could we bring an OM into that situation? I think about that often, especially when surrounded by people who challenge me most. Those who leave me practicing what I often times preach in my own yoga class.

This entry is written from my family’s villa in Italy’s southern island of Sicily, my childhood sanctuary (see blog entry “Everything We Need We Already Have). As I sit amidst the fruit bearing trees, the gentle breeze calms my mind and wraps me with tenderness. The birds sing their old familiar tune as they make there way from branch to branch. A bird catches my gaze, and with a tilt of its head it welcomes me. Eventually they all take flight. I watch them soar freely – their wings stretched wide against the deepness of the blue August sky. They disappear into the glow of the hot sun and as I close my eyes, I imagine myself flying with them. With a delicate glide I move gracefully above my world, letting faith safely guide me throughout the surrounding vastness.

It’s a liberating sense of freedom so rarely experienced when we’re bound to thoughts that prevent us from fully living.

As a child, and well into my formative years, this hidden paradise was my place of refuge - where I inhaled deeply and exhaled freely without the constricting and gripping fear that prevented me from breathing fully back home. Slowly, as life progressed to adulthood and the lessons it brings, my visits to this far away land became less of a reprieve and more of a retreat. I finally reached a point where I stopped running or escaping something. This left me more room to explore myself. It took a while to recognize that no matter where I go, I end up taking myself with me. Italy itself doesn’t have magic powers; it can’t transform me into a blissfully free flying robin. Rather, it is I who lives and breathes differently here. This simple yet profound observation helped blow the smoke away from my eyes - revealing with greater clarity what was always in front of me. My Sicily retreats are still sacred – an absolute pleasure to experience with full attention, but now when my visits here end, I return home with a newfound sense of ease.

This year’s trip has been different from my past visits. Maybe it’s because the clutching need to keep this place holy – unharmed and unscathed – has finally dissolved. Life itself is holy and sacred. If we fly high enough, we see that everything contains beauty. To see it, we have to expand our view to allow for the entire scene. Zoom out like the bird setting off to explore. And then as we move closer, we zoom in. We land on a peaceful and quiet branch and get a closer view – allowing for the finite details to come to focus. Using a wider lens to see, I’ve made a few observations while here.

Most Italians are filled with passion. They communicate zest, love and affection. They are passionate about family, friends, food, and fun - and those are just the Fs. They have a fire that burns within– and it’s continually fueled by life. A fire that is not maintained burns with vicious abandonment, destroying everything in its borderless path. I’ve witnessed this wild fire too many times within my circle of relatives and close family friends. It is astonishing how quickly relationships can turn sour with ties broken. Years of loyalty, trust and love melt away in a matter of minutes - only to be replaced with vengeful feelings of anger or disgust. Holding tight to convictions that prevent you from seeing beyond your peripheral and bound to an ego’s need for gratification – to be right! This need sometimes goes beyond reason.

My grandmother and her sister lived a kilometer apart their entire adult lives. For thirty-years they barely uttered a syllable to one another. At some point during those years they both forget why. No one seems to know what exactly happened. The locals just accept it as norm as they do with so many other familial conflicts. Anger, rage, resentment - all become a part of living. Slowly those bitter feelings gnaw lesions in their souls – leaving an aching need for relief.

I’ve spent many years yearning for this relief and finally, thankfully have come to discover it. My mother and I have gone through periods of estrangement throughout most of my life. The average argument would prevent us from speaking for a typical two-years. This last episode lasted five. I no longer view our relationship as something completely unruly or bizarre. Now I better understand where our relentless need to win or be right stems from. Throughout this last disconnected phase much has changed. My discovery is profound essence buried deep in the word forgiveness.

After five years of complete abandonment, my mother contacted me. We spoke briefly. She asked about her two granddaughters (she’s never met the second & saw the first at her birth) and then we discussed the weather. This conversation was different. Anger, disappointment, and resentment were barely present. I met her with acceptance without expectations or judgment. When told about our planned trip to Italy in the summer, she seemed happy about the news. Three months later, a month before our departure, she called again with news of her own. She was going to join us in Italy. She wanted to meet her granddaughters and reconnect. As she uttered those words, my entire body beaded with sweat, as my heart raced and my throat closed. All the progress I thought I had made – with amends, coming to terms with our relationship were gone in an instant. Things were better. Still panic held me as tight as a vise. Time stood still and the world fell silent as I stood frozen in disbelief. Holding the phone to my ear, glaring at my overflowing vegetable garden beyond my backyard deck, my world spun out of control. I managed to pull it together long enough to foster enthusiasm and say – “wow! That’s’ great news mom.” While inside I screamed – “FUCK! Are you KIDDING ME?!” We hung up as my stomach clenched. Inside on my way to the sofa I thought – “Ok…calm down and relax. Instead of being completely consumed by panic, I for the first time asked, how can you turn this into an opportunity?” Amidst the struggle and after much reasoning, meditating, and internal chatter, I decided to try to turn the situation into something positive.

Forgive - Stop feeling angry or resentful toward (someone) for an offense, flaw, or mistake. (Note – I would add ourselves to this definition. We often times have a harder time forgiving ourselves than others).

Forgiveness is a healing gift we offer ourselves. It’s not a condoning of wrong behavior or a favor done for someone else. I once believed that keeping a grudge would somehow punish the person I was upset with – when in reality the only person being punished was myself. Giving ourselves the gift of forgiveness allows us to look at a situation in its entirety – by understanding not only our own perspective, but the perspective of someone else as well. We’ve become so accustomed to keeping ourselves first in line. We forget about the other point of view and often times don’t even consider it. This alone may be enough to spark a release of hostility.

When I finally understood that forgiveness is not synonymous with forgetting. I was able to embrace it fully. Why do we assume that when we forgive, we have to replace those ill feelings with something else? In most cases, we believe we have to forget the incident in its entirety and replace the anger with love or affection. On the contrary, we can release, without forgetting or replacing, finding peace and resolve in the situation and within. When we’re unable to do this we create an identity around pain, and relive the trauma with every memory. By cultivate thoughts that leave a wholesome effect, we remember without reliving. Sometime we’re actually able to meet the situation with gratitude for the lesson it has taught us.

The initial thought of seeing my mother left me frantic. I wasn’t completely ready or capable of putting into practice all the lessons learned. I managed to muster the courage and strength needed to brace for impact. And it worked - without the need for sand bags or storm windows. Forgiveness helped me meet her with compassion and understanding. Witnessing her through such a lens changed my entire perspective. It didn’t happen right away. Adjusting cost me a few sleepless nights but the difficult internal struggle ended in acceptance. For the first time, I had no expectations. I wasn’t interested in transforming her into my ideal mother and because of that I was the one who transformed. By trying first to accept, she was affected.

My mother surprised me. She gave as much as I believe she is capable. Which is a big accomplishment. She’s a woman who barely stands five feet tall, with tired eyes and a rigid soul. Bound to the familiarity of her world, she is unaware of what lies beyond her borders. Change is her enemy. Unable to adjust to circumstances that prevent her from accomplishing her regular routine, she keeps to a tight schedule while knocking down anything that stands in her way. In spite of this, she managed to show affection and a willingness to try. This has left me completely satisfied, filling me with gratitude. I’m grateful to see my mother making an effort. But I’m most grateful for my ability to accept. Realizing that my future relationship with my mother will never flourish into something brilliant – and knowing that it’s perfectly ok.

My time here has provided many empowering lessons. Transforming our world can be done by the flipping of a switch. We make choices. We can hold on to resentment and keep ourselves victim to our offender or we can relinquish our power and look at our situation through a wider lens. We can release our anger to make more room for joy, peace and love.

The other important lesson I’ve learned here is this – you can survive and thrive without internet access or texting! It’s almost impossible to believe. But I am living proof that this can indeed happen. Two weeks and I’m still thriving!

Trusting Our Truth

2011-07-26T10:43:00.000-07:00

My dad signaled when he was about to strike. His round, hairless head turned a bright shade of red while his lips pressed so tightly together, they lost their color. Like a gazelle looking up in a nature film my body became aware of an impending danger. It was when my Dad’s upper lip virtually disappeared and his bulging, eyes shifted from green to a devilish red – that I knew I’d better start running. His glare was so frightening; I literally felt the wrath of God. I ran with the same fierce, life-saving determination of a gazelle that spots a salivating leopard ready to pounce. Nothing stood in my way from trying to escape his rage. I turned over chairs, moved tables, jumped furniture - all with the gripping hope of making it to the door in enough time to open it.

The few times I made it out, I hit the pavement and kept running without once looking back. With tears streaming down my face and my body trembling, I managed to feel a moment of victory. My lungs burned as my pace slowed to a crawl on my way to a sacred spot; a safe place. Sitting under my shaded hidden tree, near Tom’s Party Shop, my head rested on my bent knees as I let the tears flow with the power of a tsunami hitting land. The reality of my situation left me feeling defeated. That fleeting moment of victory was completely forgotten.

I rarely let my dad see me cry, resolute on not giving him the satisfaction. When he hit, I hit back. And I did all I could do to lessen the power of his contact. I braced for impact. I kicked. I wiggled. I punched. I bit. But my efforts proved futile. I, like that slow gazelle, was always overpowered. But despite my wounds, I somehow managed to walk away with my head held high, and with the confidence of a survivor.

The early life lesson was that the world is a scary place.

People cannot be trusted, which meant that we always, have to keep our guards up. Who knows when someone will strike? Therefore, we must live life with the conviction that someone eventually will - even if that someone proclaims love and devotion. Showing any signs of weakness will leave you open for attack, so live life cautiously. And even if fear consumes you, never let anyone know you’re scared.

This reasoning served me well throughout the earlier parts of my life. I survived childhood, adolescence and young adulthood by self-reliance. I almost never asked for help, and was reluctant to accept it when offered. My appearance was strong, confident and powerful and it was a false façade. Still, I was able to plow through life. But I was removed from the world, keeping myself distant and watching with a skeptical eye. This was my survival tactic. It was when I was finally ready to thrive and not just survive, that my ideas about the world started to shift.

Looking back on those developmental years, it is clear how that time shaped my view of the world. Feelings of inadequacy kept me in a perpetual state of fear, guilt or shame. I constantly blamed others for my unhappiness, or pretended nothing bothered me. I was ultimately afraid of exposing my true self because I wasn’t sure it was worthy of connection. We all have this inherent instinct to connect with others because fundamentally, we know we are all One. But before we can fully grasp this, we must find that connection within. This becomes a challenge when we’re constantly told to look outside of ourselves for validation.

Society persistently tells us that we’re not enough.

We have ideals. We try to meet them because we’re convinced that there is a certain standard to meet in order to be “good enough.” We need to be thin enough, pretty enough, smart enough, strong enough, successful enough – and have enough “stuff.” Eventually, we should get married and stay married (with a partner of the opposite sex, of course), become parents & grandparents, have a house, a dog and maybe a cat – and then, if we live up to all of those standards…we may possibly be worth something. And while we do all of those “shoulds” to be “good enough,” we have to keep serving a God who supposedly loves us unconditionally, but who will quickly strike if we break a condition. Why would an all-powerful God create laws that must be adhered to, and then give us the option to violate them? It has been argued that it’s a lesson of “free will.

Let’s consider this: How is “free will” free when that very will doesn’t even originate from us?

“Free will,” by definition, means the freedom to make choices that are not determined by prior causes or divine intervention.

The role of “parent” has been projected onto God. The assumption is that a diety has needs. He needs to control. He needs us to follow his plan, and he has feelings. He gets angry when we disobey, and he’s sad when we don’t praise him. This magical man in the sky is constantly judging our behavior, and then he rewards or punishes us based on how he feels about what we’ve been doing - sounds a little like my father. Is it too grand to believe the magnificent notion that God is not to be feared, will not judge, and has no cause to punish – and then, to recognize that this God does not live outside ourselves, but instead resides within?

We have been taught to look outside of ourselves for answers. By doing this, we relinquish our own power. We believe that we are worth less than the power who created us. We deny our own experience in favor of what we have been told to think. And when we do encounter an actual experience for the first time, we overlay what we experience with what we think we should feel. We have forgotten (or perhaps never learned) how to trust ourselves. Our inner truth has become so foreign that we barely recognize it. Once we’re able to hold our values up against the light of public scrutiny and admit to ourselves, and to the world, how we really feel – without hesitating or breaking stride – then, we have reached a point of whole-hearted worthiness.

This reasoning brings with it openness and vulnerability. Vulnerability, by definition, means leaving yourself open for attack. This was certainly not something I was ever willing to experiment with. Then, I began to recognize what happens when we expose our true selves – when we are honest and raw. It is within this state, that a real connection unfolds – within ourselves and the outside world. It is how we feel when an artist expresses themselves from an inner core. We embrace that power of connection. It goes beyond the physical, and transcends into something much deeper. When we release outside expectations and instead, connect with truth – we move to live from a place of courage, compassion, clarity and connection. We are free from fear and judgment, and we are comfortable with vulnerability.

An identity built upon false pretenses – like a house of cards – is bound to collapse. Reaching this inner destination, we finally live in genuine Truth. Life’s contradictions and paradoxes begin to vanish. They are replaced with a beautiful sense of order, meaning, and purposeful simplicity. We live synergistically, within our environment – we do not fight it. Clarity becomes effortless, and our world perception has such precision, that everything makes sense, and our lives begin to simply fall into place. By releasing society’s expectations and understanding that true strength means embracing vulnerability, we see the world anew for the first time.

Have you experienced whole-hearted worthiness? Has society, your inhibitions, fear, shame or guilt, prevented you from experiencing your truth? I look forward to reading your comments.

Hello Stillness, Nice To Meet You

2011-07-12T05:17:00.000-07:00

My formal introduction to the word meditation happened during my third year in college when I enrolled in a course entitled Mind, Body Medicine. The course was a requirement for my Health Science major and, in hindsight, a fortunate obligation. I was in my early twenties, on the brink of adulthood - somewhere between reckless, insecure teen and responsible, "in-control" adult. Everything in this world was possible, where you know the rules to success and you agreeably play the game. But where trepidation and inhibition keep you bound to perpetual self-doubt. And yes, smoking lots of pot and drinking beer through funnels seemed to be the most effective way to cope.

That first Mind, Body Medicine class was the spark that ignited my curiosity about the mysterious and completely fascinating connection between mind and body. I learned that meditation isn’t only for Eastern Monks who sit under bohdi trees to attain enlightenment. The proven health benefits of meditation are instead, nondiscriminatory. Not only the religious, but also the secular and/or spiritual can enjoy the physiological and mental benefits of meditation – which include decreased blood pressure, improved immune system function, and improved concentration. Meditation triggers a relaxation response so significant, that it is capable of improving long-term physical and emotional responses to stress. Knowing that stress is a contributor to all major modern killers, I had all the motivation needed to actually begin the practice of sitting still in silence.

So there I was, a young eager college kid, ready to practice meditation. How hard could sitting still and breathing be? I was quick to answer my own naivety. After only a few attempts at enforcing discipline and trying to quiet the mind, I felt more frantic than peaceful. No distractions left my mind far from quiet. In fact, it actually went into overdrive, sounding something like this:

All that I have to do is focus on my breath – inhaling and exhaling. I wonder if I’m supposed to sit straight while I’m meditating. I really need to slouch right now because my back is seriously killing me. OK, just focus on the breath. How long have I been sitting here? I should open my eyes and look at the clock because I’m sure I’ve been sitting here for at least 10 minutes. Damn! That was seriously only 2 minutes!? Oh my god! I can’t stop thinking. Ok Val, just stop! Really, how ridiculous are you that you can’t stop thinking for a single, damned minute! Maybe I should count my breaths this time; One, inhale. One, exhale...Two, inhale. Two, exhale. I seriously have to study today. Who can really do this? Why can’t I stop thinking?!? Sitting still without thinking is entirely too hard.

Demoralized, I basically gave up after my third attempt at meditation. My overly obnoxious, pointless, internal chatter drowned out any possibility of achieving stillness and left me defeated. My posture collapsed like a bridge crumbling into water. I planted my face in my hands and thought, "I failed at sitting still." A few days of berating myself led to finally crossing meditation off of my to-do list. It was something that just "wasn’t for me." Instead, I thought, I’ll eat healthy, keep exercising, and hope for the best.

Throughout the years, I made periodic attempts at tackling my boisterous thoughts by trying to zip them shut with meditation. With each failed attempt, I was left feeling frustrated and disillusioned, vowing to never attempt this nonsensical, dubious practice again. How can I possibly force my mind not to think? The mind thinks. That’s what it does! I can’t force my ears not to hear, or my eyes not to see. How can I possibly tell my mind to stop doing what it’s programmed to do? Well, it turns out that I wasn’t exactly following the rules of the game.

Eventually I learned that the more we try to resist thinking, the more we end up thinking.

It is akin to dieting – the moment we decide to eat less is the exact moment we start to obsess about food. Instead, stop resisting and stop forcing something to happen, only then we can be present to receive whatever comes. Without expectations the mind is open and willing to be present. It is almost inevitable that thoughts will steadily enter our consciousness when we’re still. Watch them come, observe them, and then allow them to pass. It is by doing this that we become the observer of our own minds. By paying attention to ourselves we become better acquainted with what lies beneath. It’s less about trying to stop all thoughts and more about disentangling ourselves from them. Removing ourselves from the muck and just watching it all settle. Eventually the mind will start to quiet and the busyness of our thoughts begin to be replaced with silence. There are no hard-pressed rules to get there. We each have our own method of finding stillness. There is no time limit we have to follow for the magic to happen. We can scratch an itch, slouch or even lie down. The key is just being still and paying attention. It's about patience without expectation. Letting go. The phrase itself just makes you want to let out an exhale.

And that left me wondering, "Why wasn’t this helpful information included in my Mind, body Medicine text?" Even if it had been I’m convinced that I still wouldn’t have been ready to listen. My time came years later – almost an entire decade later, to be precise. I reached a point where salvation equated to two choices: lots of pharmaceutical and recreational drugs, or perhaps....something else? Of course, there had to be something else! Thankfully I chose the latter and did what any normal woman with Internet access would do in such a monumental crisis: I Googled. Lo and behold, meditation had reintroduced itself! There it was again on my computer screen, answering the question of, “How can I stop my obsessive thinking?” It right there, along side other solutions like - psychotherapy, Xanax or moving to Italy.

After reading more way to many comments and opinions about the life-changing effects of meditation, the final decision was to welcome it back into my life. But this time, it wasn’t the science that drew me in. "It" was something much deeper. It extended far beyond the information on the Internet or the health benefits. It became about something much bigger than my physical self. When I finally started to fully listen to the whisper, I felt my inner self awaken and began to find my personal path to self-realization. Connecting to that spark of divinity that everyone has within.

Meditation became a road map to my inner self - a medium that allowed me to view and to decipher the master blueprint for my being. It is in this space of stillness and silence that our truth speaks.

We just have to listen. So much insight can be revealed in those sacred moments of connection. Once I began a regular practice of meditation, this awareness became most obvious. My greatest insights have occurred while sitting still, breathing and listening. I’ve heard it been said that prayer is that act of speaking to God while meditation is the art of listening.

Yogis believe that, to find God, we have to connect with that unifying place within us. That process is called, “God-realization.” That connection is to our True Self, the Self who is eternally at peace. When we mistakenly believe that our limited, material bodies are the only components of our nature, then we continue to suffer. Failing to recognize our own divinity is often the reason for our despair. The real practice of yoga is all about self-mastery. It is the dedicated effort to reach a steady state of even-mindedness, so that we can clear a path for our God-presence to be revealed.

My time was ripe. I was ready and willing to clear my path and stop the struggle. As I sat in my cross-legged position and closed my eyes, I finally connected. There were no flashing lights or waves of tingles. I was completely aware that my outside world was moving, but I felt no sense of time. I fell blissfully still as a warm glow wrapped my body. Peace and calmness transcended and I felt my whole Self smile. And it was at that moment that everything made sense.

I'm eager to hear your stories about connecting. Have you explored your inner self? Do you have a regular practice? If not, are you curious? What are your fears or inhibitions? What are your passions and desires? Do you have comments and experiences to share?? WE all would love to read your insight. Let's all connect.

Everything We Need, We Already Have

2011-06-28T08:29:00.000-07:00

“Happiness is not getting what you want, it is wanting what you get.” – Neale Donald Walsch.

I grew up on the outskirts of the City of Detroit’s west side, just one mile north of Eminem’s now famous 8 Mile Road. Our neighborhood streets weren’t exactly tree-lined, nor were there pools in every yard. Instead, it was abandoned lawns, cracked and crumbled driveways, and homes in desperate need of fresh paint.

Tom’s Party Shop was just down our road. It was a place where neighborhood kids went with their pockets flush with coins to buy handfuls of candies or frozen treats. If you were an under-aged teen with a little extra cash, you had no problem getting your share of Marlboros. Tom’s was the meet-up point for our neighborhood “gang.” After meeting, we scattered throughout the neighborhood. Days spent riding bikes, running through sprinklers and hiking the woods. We climbed trees, ate Popsicles and sometimes smoked those shared Marlboros. We had everything we needed. There was nothing lacking in our world. We were simply flowing with a curiosity borne of our childhood innocence. A feeling so intense, that we explored our world with creative imagination and complete openness.

That place, my neighborhood, became a summer reprieve. It was my own little and first established community that provided a sense of normalcy and belonging. It allowed an escape from my father’s heavy hand and my mother’s borderless despair. The only time my mother broke free from the gnawing anxiety and depression that chewed perforations in her soul was when her family flew the three of us to Sicily for summer visits.

If the neighborhood was my reprieve, then Sicily was my sanctuary. It was a place of refuge. The air alone felt like a warm blanket of comfort. With every visit, I stepped off the plane and took in a deep breath of the sweet Mediterranean air. It was like drinking an elixir that instantly filled my body with life. Trips to this magical land transformed me. This sacred ground touched a part of me that went unaffected back in Detroit. It was an unexplainable sense of complete and utter ease. It often left me wondering – was it the constant flow of affection or the life that filled the streets that had me feeling this way?

Walking through the markets my heart just tumbled with an unexplainable love as I watched an old-Italian guy with a round belly selling fish while singing Volare! Laundry hung from every window and dangled across streets, kids in their flip-flops and swimsuits ran through the streets as they screamed to friends up on the rooftops. The sounds of Vespa motors, beeping car horns, and street vendors shouting melded together to create the unforgettable background buzz of our little, Sicilian beach town. In front of almost every household entrance would be seated at least one, crooked, gray-haired woman watching it all unfold – a reality show right before her eyes. With every visit, all remained the same.

My family’s country villa was located only a mile from town, but was completely removed from the excitement of the village streets. The tiny house sits amidst acres of fruit trees and abundantly growing vegetables. The land is covered with a colorful array of the earth’s glorious offerings. The colors of flowers, bright red tomatoes, sun kissed lemons, pale green pears, round pink peaches, purple eggplants, green zucchini and peas dotted the property. Abundance so plentiful, that we happily shared our wealth with the countless people who walked through our open door. We lived our summer days under the glow of the Sicilian sun. Starting each day with a swim in the Mediterranean Sea, in warm water so clear you could see the groups of tiny fish swim away from your approach. The beach was set against a backdrop of rocky, mountain cliffs descending precipitously into the sea, with mysterious caves and caverns that keep you wondering what lived inside. I always admired the scene in absolute disbelief. Nature has an impeccable way of putting together such vibrant colors in the most perfect conditions. After leaving the beach, we made our way to the baker for our daily bread and cheese while spending the rest of the day playing in the breeze of the country air. Eating was always an event in itself. Every carefully planned, delicious meal created with an intense amount of zest and passion. Passionately is how the Italians live while appreciating the simplicity of life.

My Italian family made up for the lack of love back home. A stream of attention and affection were constants amongst all of our family and friends. But it was my grandfather who held my heart. He was my idol. I followed him everywhere like a lost puppy. I felt most secure and safe when I was around him, and whenever he noticed me nearby, he would stop watering the eggplants or mixing the pasta, to give me a little extra attention. And with a wink, I knew I was his favorite.

I used to wonder why life in Sicily was just so much better than my life anywhere else. I thought it was the place itself. Maybe it really was magic. That’s what my grandpa would say. He convinced me that our little town in Sicily’s coastal cove was the best place on earth. Now, looking back, I realize that it has nothing to do with its geographical location, and everything to do with the way I lived there. I was fastened safely to love, and was living each moment – in that moment – never thinking about where I’d be next, or where I was before. Why would I? Everything right in front of me was perfect. Why dare spending a second removed from it! Summer days in my neighborhood back home gave me glimpses of that reality, but it was quickly stripped from me when I walked through my front door. In Sicily I lived in tranquility, peace, joy and happiness practically all the time – and this is how life is supposed to be lived.

Life is meant to be happy. News flash, Dad: humans are NOT made to suffer.

Just watch a child play blissfully in the street. It’s evidence of how life is designed to be lived. Playfully loving each moment without the preoccupation of anything other than the present. We are love, peace and joy. These aren’t emotions. They are aspects that define our being. There is nothing more we need. We already have everything. But our mind often makes too much noise for us to notice. In Sicily, my mind was quiet long enough for me to feel that union. That was what I had confused as magic, but maybe that’s what magic really is? My presence with every moment and my firm connection with myself, as One, drew me closer to my truth. This truth connected me to that pureness and joy. But we sometimes confuse joy with pleasure. Pleasure is always derived from something outside of ourselves. It can be here today and gone tomorrow. And that thing that we oftentimes call “love” may be pleasurable today, but it might cause tremendous pain tomorrow.

Joy, on the other hand, arises from within. It is what we experience in those short-lived moments of complete and utter peace: the birth of a child, watching the sun set, the stillness in nature. But because our thoughts are quick to interrupt these moments, we’re only able to appreciate glimpses of our truth. If only we can be there longer than we’re not. Living that which we are - Joy, Love, and Peace…not just experiencing it. That is what some people call “Enlightenment.”

Remember your moments of joy and magical places in your memory - how do they make you feel? Are you living your joy or just remembering glimpses from the past? Are you continually looking forward to something else, something better, something more? Or are you finding that joy right now? Feel free to share your moments of enlightenment or just contribute by adding your insight.

I look forward to reading your comments.

Stepping Into Fear

2011-06-17T06:54:00.000-07:00

“Power over others is weakness disguised as strength. True power is within, and it available to you now.” - Eckhart Tolle

Fear was a major life motivator until it practically consumed me. There was a point where it held on so tight I felt desperate for breath. It only took a few months for me to realize it’s not a comfy place to pitch a tent. It’s too cold, dark and lonely – a place too desolate and barren to set up camp. We each have had intimate relationships with fear, in one form or another, and in varying degrees. We understand its power and its conviction. And we all want to break free from its hold.

My life during those few desperate months would have appeared to an outside observer to be picture perfect. I had a supportive, loving husband along with two beautiful, healthy, spirited daughters. We shared a home nestled in an established neighborhood just outside of New York City. I was a full time mother, grateful to be home with my kids.

The many hours home alone burdened me with what the Buddhist call the “monkey mind.” My mind would swing from one absurd thought to the next – from the distant past to the unknowable future. These random ruminations wouldn’t necessarily be a huge problem if our emotions weren’t tied to our thoughts. But thoughts trigger emotions, so I evoked a variety of feelings in a matter of minutes. At one moment, I was happily thinking about our past vacations, or our vacation to come, and then – BAM! – I’d quickly swing back and be in a state of panic as I envisioned our plane crashing and our family plummeting to our deaths. I’d spend time convoluting scenes into worst-case scenarios. I’d watch CSI and imagine my life in their story (I eventually stopped watching CSI)! I took the term “monkey mind” to the next level. In the west we’d term it “obsessive worrying.”

The big problem with swinging back and forth through the vines of our thoughts is that we’re very rarely present where we are. We’re mostly someplace else, completely disconnected from our bodies, and from the moment. Unfortunately, my someplace else always ended up somewhere scary. My personal catharsis occurred while jogging one day (see “Listening to the Whisper”). I guess you could say that my days of living with my obsessive, fearful thoughts served me well. It was my soul’s way of shaking me awake.

I was so distracted with thoughts, I started missing some of those first time moments with my children. Precious moments that would never come again: – their first discoveries, first jumps, first dives, first time recognizing the letter “A”.

In the end, through my children, I awoke to myself.

In order to experience anything, you have to witness its contrast first. As Neale Donald Walsch states in Conversations with God – “You cannot experience what you are until you’ve encountered what you are not.” Simply put; you cannot view yourself as overweight until you become aware of thin. Using this reasoning, even fear can serve a purpose. Experiencing fear and living it are distinctly different. I believe that we as a society spend entirely too much time living it.

Many of our religions teach us to fear the wrath of god. We live our daily existence in perpetual fear of a vengeful God who is quick to punish with eternal banishment and everlasting damnation. Those are some serious motivators! Catholics believe that if a child dies before receiving the Sacrament of Baptism, he cannot go to heaven. We have created punishment for innocent babies who aren’t able make their own choices!

Fears we’re not even aware of are instilled upon us the moment we are born! Our society is so fear base driven its become the new norm. We fear rejection, so we keep our guard up. We fear loss so we numb ourselves from feeling often using drugs, alcohol or food as a means. We fear looking within, so we live without. We fear losing, so we fight to win no matter the topic. Why do we always have to win an argument – even if we know in our core, that we’re wrong? The moment we express our love to someone, we fear they may not reciprocate. Even if they do, we start to worry about the moment it will end. We see ourselves as constantly under threat and we live our lives by reacting. We are playing this game of life on defense.

When we begin to pick fear apart and examine it from the inside out, it begins to lose its power.

Instead of resisting fear, why don’t we just walk right into it? See what happens. Ask yourself – “what am I really afraid of?” “What’s beneath the surface?” Stop resisting and instead welcome the opportunity to learn from your experience.

What we resist persists.

So maybe we don’t resist, maybe we start off by leaning into the fear. Dip one toe in the water to see what it’s like. We think that facing our demons is reliving some traumatic event or discovering our worthlessness. What if instead it’s enduring uneasy sensations and finding out that – guess what? We’re still here! We don’t combust into flames! And, in fact, once we cross that terror barrier, we feel profound relief and freedom.

Fear shows up in many forms and in varying degrees: nervousness, anxiety, worry, unease and phobias. All of these forms stem from the same place, from the idea that something might happen and not from anything that is happening now. As Eckhart Tolle states in The Power of Now –

“You are in the here and now, while your mind is in the future. This creates an anxiety gap. And if you are identified with your mind and have lost touch with the power and simplicity of the Now, that anxiety gap will be your constant companion. You can always cope with the present moment, but you cannot cope with something that is only a mind projection – you cannot cope with the future.”

Staying in the present takes practice. Try this: pause, look out in front of you and take three breaths. While filling with breath we create a perfect opportunity to listen to our world and to actually see what’s in front of us.

We will never find complete liberation until we stop identifying ourselves with our thoughts. Our thoughts can change in an instant, yet our essence remains the same. That power within us, that inner truth, never waivers. It’s a unifying constant within us all. What changes is our degree of awareness of it.

How can we move from a life on the defense to a life on the offense? How can we go from a life of reaction, to one of action? From being the victim and letting circumstance lead, to manifesting and creating our own future? We simply open the door to ourselves. We start to become aware of the whisper within. We pay attention, we look and we listen. This is the beginning.

Keep connected to this blog and we'll continue to explore and walk this journey of discovery together.

Listening to the Whisper

2011-06-10T12:03:00.000-07:00

I can remember, with exact clarity, the moment when my father uttered the statement that sparked my curiosity about the purpose of life.

I was in my early teens – a rebel with a quest to break free from the madness that was my family life. My parents were a perfect pair. My mother, a petite, Italian woman, spoke little English and understood even less about American culture. She kept her distance from the unfamiliarity of this new world by distracting herself with perpetual housework. Despite her constant feelings of hopelessness, she managed to channel her nervous energy into keeping a spotless home, making the meals on time, and getting the kids to school or practice. Her inner turmoil created an outer world of disconnection, and she lacked the capacity to relate, to trust and to love. At the time it appeared that she just resented everyone and everything, but now I recognize her struggle as a disconnect within herself. She portrayed the life of a victim, as if everyone had the sole purpose to cause her discomfort and pain. My brother and I eventually gave up trying to convince her of anything to the contrary. Instead, we simply turned a blind eye to her despair.

Luckily, my mother had my father there to pray for her (sarcasm intended)! He proclaimed to be a man of God, which apparently translated into working 84 hour weeks, watching The Catholic Channel on cable TV, and attending Sunday mass every week. My father was my religious role model. He defined his life by The Holy Bible, yet he seemed to live in stark contradiction of some of its teachings (as I later realized). This, of course, wasn’t at all apparent to him.

My father and I very rarely had conversations. We mainly spoke in sound bites, which consisted of him saying “no” to mostly everything I asked, and of me responding with some version or degree of profanity. I suspect this may be one of the reasons I was so impacted by that conversation. He was laying on the brown, worn sofa, which had a permanent imprint of his body on it – it was his typical spot whenever he was home. The background hummed with church bells as mass was about to begin on The Catholic Channel. I remember lying on the floor, whining about life being unfair when he said, “We aren’t supposed to be happy until we reach the Kingdom of God. We are meant to suffer until we go to heaven. When we go to heaven, that is when we’ll live in eternal happiness, but until then, life is supposed to seem unfair.”

Well then, I thought, “Why don't we all just commit mass suicide and get to heaven on the express train? Why waste any more time?” But I knew enough about Catholicism at the time to know that taking your own life meant an express train ticket straight to hell! But hey, maybe we're already in hell? If he can believe something that is so fundamentally unintuitive and alien to the human consciousness – that we're actually made to suffer – then really, isn't anything possible?

I had a hard time believing much of what my dad told me as a child, and especially as a teen. When he told me that we are meant to suffer, I was almost convinced. This concept almost made sense because, at that time, most of my world consisted of some form of conflict, discontent or suffering. “I’m suffering, and I’m supposed to be.” But no matter how much I wanted this notion to ring true, it didn’t resonate – it couldn’t. Why would an all-loving God create us just so we could suffer? The concept just didn’t make sense, yet I witnessed suffering all around me. I barely saw anything else. My conflict continued throughout my teens and I relentlessly searched for answers until I finally concluded that there is no God! I proclaimed atheism.

I lived life as an atheist well into adulthood, but with this identity came emptiness, isolation, and a deep sense of disconnection. But deep within this hollow feeling there was a whisper that persistently nudged my inner core and poked me with its presence. It was as if i heard it say, "Pssst, hey Valerie, this isn't it! There is more to this life than what your mind can see." There was a truth within me that was aching for acknowledgement but my mind wasn’t prepared to sit still long enough to listen. In some ways, it was easy to live like that. I was attached to very little. I lived life recklessly, without considering the outcome. I constantly kept myself distracted, never stopping long enough to be present. I wanted to numb myself from feeling, so I kept running. Stopping posed a risk because then, I would actually have to pay attention and confront myself. It’s much easier to ignore ourselves while numbing ourselves of feeling any kind of pain or discomfort.

But I recognize now that we cannot selectively numb ourselves – we end up numbing all of life, which includes joy, love, peace, and wonder – all the sensations that define living as a whole person.

I may have continued to live in this lonely shell of existence the rest of my days but instead life brought me a gift that cracked that shell wide open. I became a mother, and in an instant my life held more meaning than I ever thought possible. For the first time, I experienced a profound sense of connectedness to another life. This kind of love is so raw that it forces you to feel with your entire body and being. I finally recognized the power of real love and the essence of life, and it felt nothing like pain or suffering. It was a bright glow of comforting light that filled me with warmth and ease.

With this intense feeling came profound vulnerability. My fear of losing what I had discovered eventually consumed me. With motherhood, I experienced my moment of bliss, but I didn’t know how to hold onto it. We are all able to catch those moments of clarity, of inner peace and solace. We know what it feels like and we spend our life continually chasing it, oftentimes looking in all the wrong places.

My moment of awakening happened almost two years ago. I was running on a clear, warm day. The sun was set high, and the sky was lit with a bright shade of blue. I’ve been running that path for almost two years, but that day I noticed the scene for the very first time. I noticed the way the green leaves swayed in the gentle breeze, the small ripples on the lake, and the geese sitting contentedly by the lakeshore, with their goslings. I stopped, I paused, I breathed and I found the stillness and the silence.

I was there in that moment long enough to finally listen. I must have been ready and open enough to hear the whisper. Sometimes you have to go to a place of great darkness before you can turn around to notice the light. And for some reason, at that moment, I saw the light and heard my inner truth speaking to me. This is what it said: You can imagine a life of suffering, a life of pain, but can you imagine living the opposite reality? What does the polar opposite – a life filled with joy, comfort, ease and happiness – look like? This life has to exist as a possibility, doesn’t it? It’s a law! Newton’s third law of motion says - for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Thing exist in pairs, in contrasts, and I’m convinced that this applies to everything.

And so, at that moment, I made it my mission to discover that life. And with that decision came this incredible sense of freedom and liberation – I felt as though I was five years old again just taking off on my bike for the first time - without the training wheels. I looked out in the horizon, lay down on the warm, dry grass, stared at the sun and smiled with my entire body.

From that moment forward, I started to learn how to connect with my whole self, with my mind, body and, especially, with my spirit. Instead of viewing these parts of myself as separate, I needed to integrate them to fully discover my truth…So I began to walk the path of self-discovery. I started to meditate, I immersed myself in my yoga practice, I read LOTS of books, and I wrote even more journal entries. I joined an amazing life-changing, psycho-spiritual group. Slowly, my life began to unfold in front of me.

Through this blog I’d like to share with you my journey, my insight and my discoveries. Using this platform to discuss topics like - the purpose of each our lives, oneness, the law of attraction, the law of opposites, forgiveness, faith, religion vs. spirituality, the meaning of vulnerability, the inner truth within each one of us that connects us all, the distinction between fear and love, and why we suffer. I’d like to start a forum where we can all meet and raise awareness - about ourselves as individuals and as a society - by generating discussions we will bring light to our world and create a safe place for each of us to connect. I look forward to reading your comments and am hopeful that we can continue an ongoing discussion that will captivate our interests and raise our awareness to sever the better good.

"Your internal world -- the reality that you encounter within your mind and emotions -- is a world that you and only you control and create." - Neale Donald Walsch