Can We Stay?

I closed my eyes to Sedona’s red landscape and allowed myself to be still and quiet. It was then I heard, “You cannot live here, but you are welcome to visit.” I opened my eyes and looked around. I was alone. Spirit had spoken.

---

When Dan and I were traveling around the United States, there were several cities we heavily pondered if they were move-to-worthy. “Is this where we call home?” We knew Los Angeles was no longer for us, but we didn’t yet know where our new home town was.

When we traveled to Sedona we had the pleasure of having lunch with a lovely new friend. With Sedona’s majestic beauty as our canvas we exchanged our stories and adventures. Originally from upper state New York, our friend had felt called to move to Sedona. Upon her arrival, she said Sedona challenged her with various uncanny incidences - as though it was assessing her and in turn, making sure she did indeed want call Sedona home.

She said Sedona had a way of letting people know if they were meant to stay -

if they were allowed - to live there.

She went on to share the story of when her mother came to visit. The mother had declared that “She too would move to Sedona!” Our friend grew concerned. A friend of Native American ancestry said that Sedona would decide if the mother could stay and it would be very clear. After an afternoon of shopping, each hand filled with various bags of treasures and souvenirs, the mother tripped and fell in to a fountain. The poor woman received a bruised knee and a small gash on her forehead. Soon after, the mother said Sedona was not for her after all.

Sedona’s signature is its majestic red-rock formations, framed with evergreen pine forests. Internationally known for having various energy vortexes, Sedona is a special place revered by artists, mystics and many seeking healing. According to our friend, every landmark had a distinct energy -  either masculine or feminine. The ones that felt easy to ascend were masculine and the ones that felt easy to descend were feminine. One would assume moving downward to be automatically easier because of the law of gravity, but I can assure you that is not always the case in Sedona. I have experienced both energies. In Sedona, you have to dismiss science for sentience. 

SEDONA’S SPIRIT SPOKE

One afternoon, as we climbed a formation, I felt like I was walking backwards. The more determined I was to move upward, the harder it became. I grew agitated because the path looked easy - it was smooth with a gradual rise, but it felt like I was moving through quicksand. “Ahhh”, I realized, “This is feminine energy.” I surrendered once I recognized the power I was resisting and found a place to sit, closed my eyes and listened. Settled in a cradle of warm red rock, I heard people drift away. Voices and movement were replaced with a soft breeze that swept my cheeks and ears. It cooled the warmth of the sun on my skin, though its heat permeated the ground. Everything became soft and melodic. Then I heard it. “You cannot live here, but you are welcome to visit.” I opened my eyes and looked about. There was no one else there. In that moment, it was just me, the sky and earth. I closed my eyes and listened once again. “You are not meant to live here, but you can visit when needed.” 

I understood. This was a direct answer from Spirit to my question: Could we call Sedona home?  I eventually got up and made my way back down and reconnected with Dan. The descent was very easy; it took mere minutes. I shared my experience with Dan, “We can check Sedona off the list because Spirit said this is not meant to be our home.”

AUSTIN SAID WE WERE NOT ALLOWED

When we got to Austin, Texas we really thought it could be the town for us. Austin had so many things on our check list, even built-in friends; Dan had been able to reconnect with Esther and Perry and their adorable son Diego. They were so incredibly welcoming and sweet that we instantly felt our hearts get cozy in Austin. One afternoon, Dan and I had an in-depth chat on moving to Austin, while walking through Zilker Park, home of the Austin City Limits Music Festival.

As we were walking and talking, I stepped on a small twig in such a way that when it broke, it snapped up and cut my the top of my left big toe. Ouch, but no biggie. The next afternoon we went kayaking on the Colorado River and “oohed” and “awed” at Austin’s atmosphere. We really liked it! That same evening, after returning from dinner with our friends, I discovered my back had broken out in a horrible rash. It was nothing I had ever seen or experienced before. It was fire to the touch. Luckily our hosts were able to provide me with an antihistamine that cleared it up in a few days. 

I believe that because I didn’t comprehend the first message - my toe being cut by the seemly random twig - that Spirit sent me a bigger and clearer message with the rash: we were not meant to live in Austin. The messages had come through in a physical way because I had not paused to ask and listen. In my excitement, my mind had rushed forward with all the reasons why Austin could be it - and had forgotten to check in with my heart and Spirit.

You’d think after Austin we would have stopped analyzing every town we went to “Is THIS the one?” But, we did not. Richmond, VA? Fort Collins, CO? Boise, ID? Kirkland, WA? Portland, OR? We mentally exhausted ourselves.

THE SPIRIT OF SANTA BARBARA

Santa Barbara is considered a paradise, a tourist’s gem of must-sees on the central coast of California. Some people appreciate its eclectic architecture, history, eco-friendly philanthropy, eateries, wineries and beauty. Underneath it all, there is a special energy inherent to the terrain that Santa Barbara rests on. The town has its own vortex and healing and spiritual communities. I believe it is a sister city to Sedona. All the while during our travels, Santa Barbara had never once occurred to us as a possibility of being our new home. Go figure.

After we drove around the United States we paused in Santa Barbara for a few months before venturing overseas to South East Asia. Dan’s parents, Bonnie and Bill, had lived in SB for over twenty years, so it naturally became a home-base for us. It was the perfect retreat in between our adventures. When we returned stateside we went back to Santa Barbara.

We are deeply grateful to Dan’s parents for opening their home to us each and every time. Santa Barbara was the perfect town for us to readjust back into American culture as it took us a few months to get back into the swing of things. Santa Barbara was just the right size (small), with just the right pace and eclectic enough for us to recalibrate. 

Dan’s parents’ community of friends and coworkers warmly embraced us. Dan ended up going to grad school at Santa Barbara University and I got my yoga instructor certification at a local yoga studio; The Santa Barbara Yoga Center. I soon cultivated new friendships through my yoga and volunteer communities and was able to begin teaching yoga as soon as I was certified. Dan was offered a teaching position at a middle school in a neighboring district. Between our educations, professions and community - it all seemed to align so divinely. In many ways, it felt like Santa Barbara rolled out a red carpet for us and said, “Welcome! Why don’t you stay awhile?” SO many elements of our life seemed to fall right into place.

It is no secret the cost of living in SB is high. It is considered a transient town because many folks move here and within a few years learn they cannot afford to stay. The cost of living has certainly made us feel uncertain of how long we could/can live in Santa Barbara. One can get priced out quickly and quite easily. “We can stay for now, but for how long?” is a legitimate concern that always bubbles in the background. That said, we have been very fortunate to connect with amazing opportunities through wonderful people. 

In 2019, the fall before Covid, we spent a weekend in Paso Robles, CA, a favorite wine region of ours. On our last afternoon there, we decided it would make sense to move to Paso Robles the next year. The timing would allow Dan to finish out his school year and look for a teaching position in PR. I was ready to dive deeper into channeling and could hold sessions by phone or online. When needed, I could easily drive into Santa Barbara to hold my healing workshops every few months. It all made logical sense and we felt excited about it (sort of). We toasted to our plan. Clink! Clink!

That very week a few days later, we received an email from our friends whom asked if we were interested in renting their home. We didn’t even ponder it; it was an immediate yes. We breathed a sigh of relief and were grateful to call Santa Barbara home for another few years.

INVITED TO STAY

As a mystic, I have a depth of respect for the Spirit of Santa Barbara. I trust we will live here as long as we are meant to. When that time comes to end, we’ll know. It will simply mean a new chapter is to begin. I never really asked Spirit if SB was meant to be our home, I have simply trusted in the allowance of us to stay. 

On January 9th, 2021 I received the following message: You have been invited to root into Santa Barbara, to call this your home. To truly ground in and allow yourself to thrive spiritually and prosperously. You are allowed to “dig in” and call Santa Barbara your home. You were initially born into this Earth, here. This is where you first came through the portal with The Ancient Ones. It was from that initial birthing that your other lifetimes on this plant proliferated and grew from…You are meant to be here, to dwell here, to call Santa Barbara your home and to thrive and prosper.

Wha???!!!

I was blown away by this beautiful message and every chance I got, I practiced gratitude to Spirit. A gentle breeze, the sight of the ocean, a colorful array of leaves cascading to the ground, mindful steps on a walk - each moment were gifts and practices of gratitude.

I had been living with a “temporary mindset.” The amazing experience of being nomads for a better part of a year had conditioned me to be comfortable with this. I could hunker down, get organized, but lived as though it was all temporary; like a film set. The message from Spirit made me aware of how I had not been allowing myself to get truly comfortable and call Santa Barbara home. I was essentially waiting for the other shoe to drop and when it did, I assumed, it would boot us out of town.

After all that searching, the one place we had never considered calling home was Santa Barbara. Santa Barbara was patient, kind and generous with us and let us know when we needed to know. Everyone that helped us along our paths is really a gift. It really has felt as though everything and everything came together to make sure we could stay. Amazing. 

Trust. It really is part of the magic.

Vacci-cation

I received my second vaccine a month ago and boy was it a doozy! I didn’t experience the same roller coaster side effects as I did with the first dose, but I did have a low grade fever and fatigue for an entire week. It felt so…foreign. 

I had not experienced that kind of exhaustion before. I was well aware there was a lot going on: an online yoga teacher training, the vaccine running its course through my body and immune system, and my moon cycle. My body was undergoing and processing quite a lot. That I knew and understood, but the feeling of….feeling so down was alarming.

I observed myself on the precipice of suffering, but was wise enough to not jump off that ledge. The potential to suffer was in the ability to give power to my Ego. To my Ego, the various symptoms of fatigue were setting off alarm bells. “Uh oh! Something is wrong! Alert! Alert! Am I in a depression? Are my hormones rocky? What is wrong with me?!”

But, there wasn’t. In fact, everything about me and the way my body responded was absolutely perfect. My body simply needed rest. Once I realized what was happening and why and once I accepted it, I was able to relax into lounging. The experience took on a nurturing sense. I adopted Couch-Asana with grandeur and absorbed Netflix with grace and ease.

There were a few times my Ego flared up after the acceptance. I could see resentment rearing its head because I was forced to rest. I felt as though time had been taken away from me; in being able to do all I need to do. This was not planned retreat, followed by a yummy massage and pedicure (sigh)….the down time was out of my control and my Ego did not approve. I took my Ego by the hand and mindfully walked it through all that was going on, all my body was processing and how this time of rest was essential. Eventually, my Ego understood that I was given time and even enjoyed a movie or two

I realized that a part of what made the fatigue so foreign was also in the idea of allowing myself to rest without worrying about anything. A false belief loomed from long ago, that said enjoying this down time meant I was selfish and lazy. I never understood the connection, but my mother was certain that’s what it meant. While I have done a lot of emotional healing around my mother, my loving, loyal body still had the belief stored. The “forced” rest became an opportunity to grant my body release of the shadow belief.

My mother was a product of our society. We are conditioned to believe that we need to earn our time of leisure. Many of us feel propelled to put off “down time” until that special occasion or we can take that dream vacation. We work hard and we work many hours so that we can afford those times of enjoyment. But sadly, we forfeit our essential time of rest because it is seen as unproductive, lazy, even weak.

Our culture is geared to “do and do more.” Today’s technology reinforces the efficiency in all that we do, which in turns helps keep our economy thriving. Corporations have spent a lot of money engraining this idea into our society to ensure our economy’s growth and continual success. The manufactured mantra seems to be, “Do more, work more, so you can earn more, so you can buy more and buying more means you’re able to buy more happiness.” It’s a carrot at the end of a fishing line and who doesn’t enjoy a freshly plucked carrot? Technology and the belief of “doing more” go hand in hand like best friends walking down a candy lane into the eternal sunshine.

Our bodies are continually telling us and showing us that we really do need to rest, and rest comes in the time afforded to ourselves when we S.T.O.P.  Rather than waiting for all systems to crash or be forced to brake, we need take it upon ourselves to carve out sacred time for a siesta. And, not just every now and then; consistently. Monthly, weekly, daily, even hourly. Whether it is a nature stroll, a nap, a glass of wine, an overdue conversation with a close friend, a minute to recite an affirmation….or simply nothing at all, time afforded for thyself to relax and renew is invaluable. You are invaluable, a precious gift to many, and you can’t be a radiant gift without needed renewal. 

“Because we do not rest, we lose our way. We miss the compass points that would show us where to go, we bypass the nourishment that would give us succor. We miss the quiet that would give us wisdom. We miss the joy and love of effortless delight.”

— Wayne Muller, "Sabbath: Finding Rest and Delight in Our Busy Lives"

Self nourishing simply needs to feel effortless. It is a chance to reconnect to your inherent wisdom, to hear the gentle whispers of your intuition. It can be a practice of honoring yourself, your life and loved ones; all that you cherish. May you give yourself this time. My wish is that we all grant ourselves this time of grace. Imagine, how different our world could be if we did.

We Can All Rise

In a podcast, Brene Brown mentioned that while many people share when they broke and how the rose back up, they rarely talk about the uncomfortable part in between - when they were down and out. I’m guilty of that too. There is a part of my story I refrained from sharing because I hold shame about it. Will I come across as weak or whiny? As a failure? Immature? Spoiled? Ignorant?

Sharing with full honesty requires vulnerability.

I am going to be vulnerable.

(I know you can’t see it, but trust me, I am trying not regurgitate what I just ingested.)

This is the in-between part of my story.

My emotional capsize happened after a duration of tragedy in the form of three deaths. Yes, three deaths in a row, in a span of only several months, of being that were close to my heart. It was a heap load in a short amount of time. Rather than tend to thyself, I stockpiled every bit of grief and kept marching on. Like when you pack as many clothes as you can into a plastic bag and suck all the air out. Efficient yes, but effective, no. 

Here is the timeline that lead to my break-through:

March 2012, Easter Sunday - my mother announced she had terminal lung cancer.

April 2012 - one of my dearest friends died in her sleep from an aura seizure.

June 2012, Father’s Day - my mother died.

September 2012 - we put Dan’s dog Rocky to sleep. Rocky had been a champion of strength.

June 2013, the following year, Dan and I got married. Because of this beautiful, full light at the end of the tunnel, I tucked my grief in like a running back and charged forward. I told myself, “I got this! I can take care of everything and totally do everything and blah blah - I. Am. Ok.”

But, I wasn’t.

The following year, January 2014, I had my first ever anxiety attack.

I had done such a good job of shoving my grief down that eventually it hurled itself back up in the form of an anxiety attack. The trigger was pretty harmless; my husband asked me which terra cotta pot I wanted and I lost it. I wanted to tremble, throw up, cry, fall to my knees and run out of the store all at the same time. Fight, flight or freeze. My nervous system was so compacted my body wanted to do all three things, all at once. That’s the break.

In my recent blog “Leap of Faith”, I shared about the revelation of knowing I had to take a leap of faith and quit my job. This decision inspired my husband to join me. We both quit our jobs, left our lives in Los Angeles and traveled for over a year. That’s the rise.

Here’s what I haven’t shared: the time in between the break and rise.

After the anxiety attack, the reality of just how unhappy I was career wise got deeper and darker. I would wake up in the middle night from a dream about work. Not my mother dying, not family conflicts as result of my mom’s death - but work. I would dream about typing in information into the digital filing system I had created. It was robotic; required no heart. I did it every day, over and over again. I had the same dream over and over. It felt like a nightmare because every day was the same and now my dreams were a repeat of my every work-day. 

I would awake in the middle of the night exhausted and then struggle to go back to sleep. This went on for months. Then, it became that I would wake up from that dream and immediately start to cry. I would slide out of bed and go to our second bathroom, where I knew I Dan could not hear me, and collapse on the floor in tears. We had cushy dark brown bathroom mats and that’s where I’d lay. When I was cried out, I’d go back to bed. This went on for some time. I hid my sadness from Dan for as long as I could because I was afraid for him to see how I was hurting - to see me sad, broken and afraid. I was afraid to be seen as weak and as a failure. I was afraid I was not enough.

Eventually, enough was enough and I had to face what was happening; what I was feeling and what was really going on deep down. I acknowledged it and accepted it for what it was: misery. I gave in and stopped fighting myself and the perception of me I had once thought so important to uphold. I surrendered, I let go. The acceptance certainly didn’t feel graceful - it felt coarse, harsh and hard. Looking at yourself when you feel like you’re covered in muck and grime - to see yourself as you truly are - can be one of the hardest things someone has to do.

The only place I could have gone otherwise was further down, deeper, into the well of a severe depression. I know that place, so I know what the door to despair looks like and feels like for myself. Without much grace, but with conviction, I said, “Fuck this, I’m done.” One evening, I finally told Dan everything. I allowed myself to fully be seen and heard; for him to see and hear my pain. 

From that conversation on, is when things begin to change. I decided I would leave my job at the end of the year and take a few months to decompress and figure things out. Once I let my boss know, I began to feel as though I could finally breathe. 

The recovery took time. Things happened in stages. Nothing happened overnight. 

That’s what I want you to know. 

We will all fall. But, we can all rise.

It takes time. Time is what you owe yourself. In that time, consistent self awareness and self care is what you need to give yourself. 

Patience. Everything you experience - especially if well compressed - will take time to decompress, process and understand. From understanding can come compassion. From self-compassion comes the ability to genuinely love and live from that love.

Honesty was and is so greatly required. In my case, both with myself and my husband. The more you lie to yourself, the greater a lie you live and the deeper you sink into the muck. That is such a hard, dark place to be and exist from.

I am grateful for that anxiety attack at Home Depot. It was the beginning of the avalanche that needed to happen. It was the first tipping point of turning my snow globe over. To look at the landscape of the life you have painted and admit that it is not an honest depiction of how you feel or how you want to be living is big, deep and profound. Once you acknowledge the truth you have to own it and move forward; you can’t go back to the way things were or who you were. 

“We can rise up from our failures, screwups, and falls, but we can never go back to where we stood before we were brave or before we fell. Courage transforms the emotional structure of our being. 

Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.”

— Brene' Brown

After the anxiety attack and months of nightmares and telling the Dan my truth, I picked up a copy of “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert while strolling through Target. I knew the book was popular but wanted to know if was for me. To asses if it was, I randomly flipped it open and read the first paragraph my eyes landed on. Turns out Elizabeth Gilbert and I had something in common; we both knew bathroom floors really well. I thought, “Someone out there gets me.” and put the book in the cart.

Someone, somewhere does get you too.

I hope you choose your Truth and Trust that where ever it takes you is where you are meant to be. Be courageous, be vulnerable and live the way your heart wants you to, not the way you think you have to. Changing the course of your life can be scary because we don’t know what is down the road, but I can tell you from personal experience, that road is a heck of a lot better than staying in the muck.

Leap of Faith

“When you are in difficult situations, there is no room for pretense. In adversity or tragedy, you must confront reality as it is.”

— Dalai Lama, "The Book of Joy"

It took the hardship of my mother’s transition to reawaken my passion to live a life filled with joy. Her transition, powerful and profound, was one of the hardest experiences in my life, but it was filled with many moments of deep love in between all the hard ones. From that experience, I knew there was something deeper in life to connect into. After my mom died, I was forced to look at how unhappy I was work-wise. I knew if I left my profession as status quo, I would continue to contribute to my sense of discontent. I wanted to feel fulfilled. So, I made changes. Big ones.

Dan and I quit our jobs, let go of our adorable condo in Pasadena, sold lots of our belongings, stored some and then drove around the United States. Thereafter, we were able to travel through South East Asia for three months. The immersion into the two very different cultures gave us an opportunity to really look deep within. We were able to identify what our personal values were apart from society’s priorities.

Our life changing decision to stop the hamster wheel was huge for us and for those around us. We took the snow globe, turned it upside down and shook the sh*t out of it. Some phrased it as a “leap of faith,” other’s one of insanity and irresponsibility. 

We come from a culture that conditions people to fear failure; mistakes should be avoided at all costs. With that mindset, people believe they are limited - they dream less, hope less and settle more. Risk is taking a chance on the adventure that is your life. Sure it was a little scary for us because of the uncertainty, but there was a sense of ease in knowing this is what we needed for our heart and soul. We left behind comfortable and familiar to embark upon a journey of the unknown. There was simply more to know and we wanted to consciously cultivate a life of fulfillment, not one of idle-ment from a source of self love and knowledge rather than a mindset.

There were individuals whom could not comprehend our choices and said unkind things due to their own limiting fear. I was harshly asked by one person, “What do you plan to do when you return to reality?” My honest reply has been in the way I’ve lived my life since then; Our reality was and is to be as we cultivate it.

Those that disagreed with us were not reflections of all that was possible or not possible for us. Their perspective - perhaps their entire belief system - simply differed from ours. It didn’t make them bad people, but it did clarify who was going to grow with us. 

Our Western culture fear of failure is perpetuated by our brain’s default mode to find flaw and fault as a way to keep us safe. This puts us in a continual state of fight, flight or freeze that will affirm the mind’s logic of looking at what is wrong and in turn will reinforce our physical state of being in, and staying in, survival mode. The longevity of this intensity in and upon our bodies can be devastating to our physical and mental health. Living in fear can cause apathy and render your outlook as impossible.

Comprehend the cultural fear of failure and you

cultivate the courage to make necessary changes

needed for your heart and soul.

The only thing constant in life is change, so why not have life be that of your conscious choices? Intention by intention. Nothing is done by leaps and bounds, it’s all moment by moment, breath by breath, one step at a time. Living moment my moment, rather than expectation by expectation, can release us from striving and into a space where we can thrive mentally, emotionally and spiritually. Being open to change means allowing room for errors and mistakes. No one and nothing is “perfect.”

Mistakes are not failures, they are merely valuable life lessons.

What you learn will increase your inherent knowledge and that is something

no one can ever take away from you.

It becomes a part of your individual wisdom and personal empowerment.

Perhaps the conviction to live our truth gave us the courage to take a new path. Maybe it was like diving off the edge of reason, but no matter how anyone else saw it - it didn’t matter, because we’re happy and fulfilled. That said we did feel universally supported and loved by many throughout our life changing adventure. Part of change is trusting you have an invisible net of support awaiting you. When we made our choice to change our paths, so many wonderful aspects came into alignment. It was as though the Universe said, “We’ve been waiting for you to do this and we’re so happy you have. “

Everyone deserves to live and enjoy a full life but it is up to the individual to create that life. I’m not talking about the “American Dream” - I’m talking about your personal dream. What is that for you? My dream doesn’t look like anyone else’, nor will yours. And that is precisely why you need to honor it; no one else is here to do what you are meant to do. Trust your heart and what it needs. Trust your dream and what it needs too. Trust there is support ready to walk with you. Be open to change and letting go of attachments to things and people you know do not serve you. Be open to co-collaboration and errors because all of life is a tapestry woven together; your individual thread adds every bit of color and essence needed. Lastly, take the pressure off of yourself by realizing you don’t need all the answers all at once - just be open to receiving, discovering and experiencing them. Life your life; the unknown is simply a journey awaiting you.

“You must never be fearful about what you are doing when it is right.

I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear; knowing what must be done does away with fear.”

— Rosa Parks

Holy Dirt!

Once a year my grandmother Carmen (my mom’s mother) would make a pilgrimage to a tiny church in New Mexico to gather up…dirt.

Yup, dirt.

The church is called El Santuario de Chimayo. El Santuario means The Sanctuary and is tucked away off a main road outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico. It was built in 1813 on a site where a crucifix was found three times in the early 1800s. Those of faith come to this shrine to collect dirt that seems to be infinite in supply. People either eat or mix the dirt with water or rub it on their bodies to cure various maladies. Many, like my grandmother, take a portion home with them.

My mother would offer portions of her supply to whom ever would ask, to those that believed. When I would overhear those conversations as a child I would silently scoff, “Ha, dirt!”

I was reminded of El Sanctuario in my mid thirties when I came upon in a book titled “The Power to Heal: Ancient Arts & Modern Medicine” (Smolan Moffitt Naythons) that had been gifted to my dad after his heart attack. I felt called to visit the church in honor of my grandmother, so my husband and I made a point to visit the shrine during our travels around the United States.

I didn’t know what to expect. Would this church be grand and elaborate? Would it have an air of importance? Fancy dressed people? Nope, it’s a small, rather cozy church. The only air of ambience inside is that the place is old; in a profound, energetically powerful way.

Prior to entering the small room where one gathers the dirt, I decided to sit in the pews and meditate. I could feel the layers of energy from all the people who had visited - their prayers, intentions and hopes for well being. There was a sense of a warm golden light that created an almost detectable filter to the human eye. As I sat, I connected to the spirit of my grandmother. I thanked her for her faith in prayer, for believing in the element of this dirt and how in her own way she has guided me all along on my path of healing. Then, I felt her. A warm, soft hand rested on my back, at my waist. I felt a deep, connective love. Almost as though she was saying, “I see you, I hear you and I am here with you, now and always.”

When I knelt down to gather the dirt, I felt the ritual of that motion; releasing the ego of the mind and surrendering to the heart of infinite hope and faith. I gently scooped and gathered a small amount of dirt into a plastic bag. The dirt is not like a dirt I have ever seen, even to this day.

The color is almost sand-like; a soft gray, speckled with tones of black and brown. The texture is refined - smooth - almost like flour. It feels like it is meant to shift in the shape of your hand but doesn’t easily fall away. It’s…special.

I tendered that small bag of dirt as carefully as I could during our travels and still have it. It rests in my healings space. It holds a particular energy of its own and, for me, is also infused with my grandmother’s faith and love.

After our return, I shared some dirt with my father who applied to his knee. He said the pain and swelling went away. I have applied it to my abdomen a few times in regards to my uterine fibroids and, I swear, while they didn’t disappear, the one on my lower right side did get smaller.

I have not readily offered the dirt because I believe those in need will come to me and ask, when ever that time is meant to be. In all honesty, I have also not openly said, “Hey, I have blessed dirt that can help you feel better!” - not because I am afraid of people thinking I am crazy, but more out of the fear of “what if I run out? When would I return to the shrine?” And that is all non-sense my ego is proliferating because the real fear is that letting go of all the dirt would separate me from my grandmother.

Silly, I know, but I am human.

In writing this, I know it’s time to share the dirt to whom feel called to it, to those who believe.

The way the dirt can help heal cannot be proven. People come from all over the world to El Santuario; that is a faith far traveled. The fact that the dirt still appears and never runs out is a miracle in itself. I believe is the power of one’s faith. That which is spirt or other-worldly does not need to make sense in order for it to be true.

Yes And....

When I was a kid, I loved playing superheroes with my friend Steve. We would battle one another with our imaginative super powers, trying to out smart each other with our creative strategies.

It would go something like this.

Steve: “I’m going to blast you with my invisible beam of lasers!” Then he’d enact it by taking a warrior stance, extend his arms, palms faced to me and send his laser blasters my way.

Me: I would physically act as though I was about to receive the blast and then exclaim, “Oh yeah? I’m holding up my bulletproof shield that’s going to reflect the lasers back to you! Ha!”

Steve: “I’m going to develop rubber like strength so the lasers just bounce off me and turn into a tornado that whips everything back at you!”

And so on it would go….sometimes for hours.

Somewhere along the way in life I forgot about my ability to play and use my imagination.

In my mid-twenties, while exploring my path as an actress, I was introduced to improvisation. My talent manager had seen me in a Star Trek-like play, where I was really just a back ground cast member. All I had to do in each scene was act as though the gadget in my hand was taking readings of the location. Could and should have been right up my alley. My manager said I looked bored. 

With much of my stage back ground in musicals, I had learned to stick to the script. I had to listen for my stage cues, which involved precise timing and knowing when and what was next. I had forgotten about the imaginary world I could help create. So, at the advise of my talent manager, I enrolled myself in ACME Comedy Theater in Los Angeles. During the course I realized - “Oh. My. God. I have forgotten how to be a kid, how to have fun!” I fell head over heals in love with improv and joined an improv troupe as soon as I could. I even held an improv show as a fundraiser for the Rock n Roll marathon I participated in on behalf of The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I called it “Tossed Cookies” wherein we literally tossed cookies out to the audience in between skits.

Through the eyes of improvisation I began to see the world as colorful again and sprinkled with unlimited possibilities. 

WHAT IS IMPROV?

Improv, often called improvisation, is the form of theatre, often comedy, in which most or all of what is performed is unplanned or unscripted: created spontaneously by the performers.

There are basic rules to improv in order to create a safe and creative space for you,  your team mates and the audience. Here are the first 10 rules:

The first ten improv rules are:

1) Say “Yes, and!”

2) Add new information.

3) Don’t block.

4) Avoid asking questions- unless you’re also adding information.

5) Play in the present and use the moment.

6) Establish the location.

7) Be specific and provide colorful details.

8) Change, Change, Change!

9) For serious and emotional scenes, focus on characters and relationships.

10) For humorous scenes, take choices to the nth degree or focus on actions/objects.

In improv, you leap first and figure out the rest along the way. Half the fun is to see how you’ll land. Scary? Perhaps to some. To me; absolutely thrilling!

The thing about improv is; you are not alone. You have a partner(s) you play along with. Each of you support the scene that unfolds one moment at at time. Everything offered by you or your scene partner(s) are gifts. (In other words, what ever you blurt out of your mouth becomes part of the reality you co-create). It’s a beautiful balance of trust and mentally free-falling.

Here’s an example of how a scene might unfold using the above rules.

A: I’m so glad you died your hair green today, honey.

B: Me too. I felt called to honor St. Patrick’s Day.

A: It’s my favorite holiday. It reminds me of the first day we met on the space ship.

B: (Sigh)…I know. That beautiful emerald green interior and lab space was excellent for dissecting humans.

A: I know! Truly brilliant. If it wasn’t for that job, that ship and meeting you, I would have never opted to adopt a human body and come here.

B: You inspired me too, my love. Too bad these bodies age though. We’re going to have to figure how to body snatch another couple.

A: True true, in due time. The public seems to love a couple named Bonnie and Clyde. Sounds like they have excellent skills!

End Scene

It’s zany and that’s why I love it!

Improvisation later resurfaced in my life during my yoga teacher training. Our instructor Kat Connors-Longo (now a dear mentor and friend) integrated various improvisation techniques into her Practicum 1 course. 

Here is an example. During an exercise, Kat directed us to teach our prepared practice without speaking. We could make gestures, sounds, facial expressions - just not speak. The purpose of the lesson was to understand the value of not locking ourselves into our prepared lesson and how we taught it. I was SO excited. I loved the challenge. Some of my peers did not.

All yoga instructors need to remember they are a human guiding other humans - not teaching or talking AT them. The process of instructing is a shared experience. I believe it is important to be open to how a group of students may feel energetically or if someone has an injury because we need to be able to adapt. Being able to adapt is key and not just in a studio, but in life overall. It requires having an open mind and an open heart. 

I learned early on to let go of prepared sequences in order to honor the collective energy of the class. When I allow my intuition to guide me, beautiful practices emerge that were wholly inspired by the participants. Some call that channeling and others call it improvisation. To me, they are the same.

More often than not, a class becomes a collective consciousness. Whether they know it or not, their individual energies become familiar with one another and when you take the time to get to know your students, you can read that collective consciousness. You can feel it. Similar to improv, the insights your students offer can be gifts that lend to the way you guide the class. One of the many truths in teaching yoga is that your students can become your teachers. 

In my experience, improvisation and meditation are similar because with both, you need to be absolutely open and present to what is. In meditation the focus may be on observing your thoughts or feelings; truly allowing yourself to be as you are in the now. This means not thinking about yesterday’s dinner or what’s on your grocery list. Just stay in the present. With improvisation, in order to support your partner(s) and the scene, you have to stay present in the moment and open to what comes next - whether it be from your team mate or your own intuition. The less you are in your head, the more unlimited you are and the more fun you can have!

As my dear and wise friend said, “The only thing we have is the now. Otherwise, you end up living in Never-Never land”.

Both improv and meditation enable me to be here in the now. Whether it is being be playful or focused within, staying attuned to the gifts of the present are precious. We never really know what gifts await us, whether it be from another person or mother nature. Life is a journey that is meant to unfold as we evolve.

When was the last time you played? And I do mean, like a kid! Would you allow yourself to skip around the neighborhood today? Jump the waves in the ocean? Look for four leaf clovers? I highly suggest taking off your adult-hat and let the child within your head loose, even for just a few minutes. The joy of liberating yourself will do wonders for your heart and soul. Trust me. 

Shine On In the New Year

May you acknowledge the validity of your experience

and know that everything and every part of you serves a purpose

May you give yourself time to grieve those you lost

and remember what mattered to you most

May your sense of peace come in easy breaths

and your doubts take a rest

May you trust your intuition

and honor each intention

May you live authentically

and your heart’s dream become a reality

May you be guided in love

and your prayers answered from the highest source above

May you have faith in life’s rhythm and rhyme

and step back or away when it is time

May you practice patience 

and to better know and appreciate your personal pace

May you mend and rejuvenate as your mind and spirit need to

as may you celebrate and rejoice when you feel called to

May there be nothing out of your reach

and no limit to what you can learn and to whom you will teach

May you always gain an understanding

and your compassion be unyielding

May your kindred spirits help light your fire

when times get tough

and may you remember your resilience 

when the tide get tough

May you trust you are not alone

and always allow your inner light to shine on

Becoming Shanti

A few people have asked how I came to have the spiritual name Shanti. I’ve held off on sharing the story because of all that it encompasses. It’s not a short answer.

First, let’s understand what Shanti means.

THE MEANING OF SHANTI

Shanti, in the ancient language of Sanskrit, means peace. Shanti can also mean calmness, rest or even bliss. 

Now let’s take the meaning of Shanti into the intention and purpose of its mantra.

THE MANTRA OF OM SHANTI

A mantra is a word or sound repeated to aid concentration in meditation.

Om Shanti is the mantra of peace. Om is recognized as a universally sacred sound.

The mantra is traditionally said three times for peace in the body, mind and spirit. It can also be chanted thrice for peace in the past, present and future. (Shanti Mantra - Meaning and Benefits)

Now, what is a Spiritual Name?

A SPIRITUAL NAME

“…A spiritual name is the designated destiny that becomes your identity on the Earth… it is the guiding force. And, it is a prayer.”

— Yogi Bhajan, 4/22/1990, Los Angeles

“Spiritual names are vibrational blessings and further it is the frequency of our name makes the ride all the more easier.  If you receive a name, it is important for you to not shy away from it or shame it.  It is important for you to OWN it.  Within our society, taking on another name is like turning your back on your parents and your family but it is nothing of the sort.”

— Khepra Wadjet Ra-El, “Goddess in Harmony” https://goddessharmony.com/2018/04/21/spiritual-names/

BECOMING SHANTI

It was during the Pranayama and Asana course of my yoga teacher training in Integral Hatha Yoga principles that Om Shanti became imbued into my my mind and heart. 

True to the word “Integral” the various branches of yoga were integrated into our training. Most of the western world is familiar with the physical limb of yoga - the asanas (poses). In actuality, there are eight branches of yoga. The word for this in Sanskrit is Ashtanga.

Yama (attitudes toward our environment)

Niyama (attitudes toward ourselves)

Asana (physical postures)

Pranayama (restraint or expansion of the breath)

Pratyahara (withdrawal of the senses)

Dharana (concentration)

Dhyana (meditation) 

Samadhi (complete integration)

The practice of meditation is truly a practice of quieting the mind to enable one to be present. This is when and how we can cultivate our inner awareness and capacity to witness what we are experiencing (Niyama). In a culture that conditions people to diffuse outward, being present in the moment and to what is within, can bring us back home to the self. The practice of meditating (Dhyana) can can include breathing (Pranayama) and reciting mantras to aid in one’s concentration. (Dharana)

A traditional Integral Yoga class opens with the Om Shanti mantra to invite practitioners inward, to cultivate a meditative practice that brings the body, mind and spirit into a union of harmony. As part of our instruction during the course, we practiced the Om Shanti mantra each day. After 108 hours of training, I could almost recite it in my sleep; it had become a part of my frequency. 

At the initiation of the program, our instructors asked if we (the students in training) would like to receive a spiritual name. (A spiritual name is meditated upon and can be received by the individual or their spiritual family.) I’ve had nick names at various points in my life and thought it would be nice to receive a new one. I felt it would honor this new chapter of my life.

Those of us that said yes received our spiritual names during our graduation, upon receipt of our certificates. It was exciting to witness my peers receive their names. A few for example:

Maria became Amma (Mother Goddess)

Nancy became Nandini (To Rejoice or Delight) 

Corin became Kali (Goddess of Time and Death)

Each spiritual name truly suited each person.

I was one of the last. I looked down at the card and read “Shanti”.

Though I knew its meaning and significance, my internal reaction was,“What?

Me? 

Peace? 

But, I’m a warrior, a fighter, a defender. 

What just happened?” 

From my peers I heard, “Oooooo, that’s so perfect!” I, on the other hand, was quite confused.

My higher self said, “They see something in you that reflects this. Try it on for a while. Let’s see how it feels.” I decided to trust there was a part of me that could embody the name of Shanti. I thought, “Ok, I’ll give it a go.”

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When I was a child, I remember being fascinated with people and being happy just being present with them. But, I soon learned that people required reactions so they could feel engaged and satisfied. It was one of my earliest conditionings: be who they expect you to be.

For the most part, my early childhood was balanced enough in the home. There was a strong family presence and interaction, good food, fun times. But that all shifted when my parent’s relationship began to dissolve. The home then had an underlying sense of tension and anger. As such, I integrated those tones into my own language because it became what I knew. It was a way to cope.

When my dad eventually moved out, I was eleven years old. The separation no doubt had been coming, but no one told me it was actually happening. I found out after the fact and was devastated. My dad was the cornerstone of my family and in just one moment - seemly so - my family had broken apart. As I lay crumbled on the couch, sobbing my mother cooly said, “The agreement was for your dad to tell your sister and I would tell you. I just never got around to it”. That was a knife through my heart.

I suspect my mother’s intention was to have me be angry with my dad so I would be on “her side”. From then on my mother did her best to get my sister and I to turn against our dad by listing all the ways he hurt her and disappointed her. I stopped trusting my mom emotionally.

At that time, my sister went away to college and she was my last cornerstone. I felt alone.  And in many ways I was. I would get blasted with hurtful words from my mother. It makes sense now, because there was no one else left for my mother to divulge her angst against.

A few years later, over dinner with my dad one evening, I was venting about my mom when he cut me short, “Don’t ever talk about your mother like that.” I was stunned. The tangled words in my mouth were, “But that’s the way she talks about you.” My dad went onto say, “You always have a chip on your shoulder.”

My silent reaction, “No shit.”

My error in talking about my mother to my father the way I had, was due to the misimpression that he and I were on the same team. The seething and spats of anger my mom had hurled at my father towards the end and been transposed onto me since I was the “last one standing”. I wanted to say to him, “Hey, I understand what you went through too. Can you please try to understand what I’m going through now?”

There was no one in my family to emotionally rely on, so I became more than angry and anger became my identity. It was a shield that showed strength and resilience and hid just how afraid, sad and alone I truly felt. 

That anger fueled and pummeled me all the way up into my early 30’s. The veil was so thick that I couldn’t see how I took a lot out upon myself. I couldn’t see how that was call for help.

No one ever bothered to ask me what I was angry about because no one wanted to know the truth; the truth was uncomfortable. Instead, I received much criticism for my behavior without a true inquisition as to the root of it. And the truth about being an angry girl is that it is considered unbecoming. It’s not polite; be nice. You’re supposed to be grateful and not selfish. So, I decided to own my anger and have it fuel my personality and identity.  I chose to be a warrior. (Yama)

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One has to be willing to look deep within and be a witness to all of the thyself: every impactful experience (painful or joyous), past or present, to truly feel and and fully understand oneself. From self-understanding, can come self-compassion and love. Self love and compassion, self understanding and appreciation are immensely healing for everyone. (Niyama)

My path to self healing began with my practice of yoga. My mat became my sanctuary. I could show up with my sadness and grief and leave my tears on the mat. Repressed emotions were unlocked and moved out of me, liberating me to breathe and just be. Within those four corners was a safe space to unlock, unleash and release. Little by little, I stripped off my armor.

It now makes perfect sense that it was during my early years of yoga is when I recognized I could channel. There had been such a healing physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. The doors unlocked, the veil lifted.

So, come the year I received the name Shanti, while I was not used to hearing about myself or feeling that way within myself, but had already begun the journey. Years before, the transition I had begun of me coming into my personal peace. I believe that when I completed my yoga teacher training, my light was as bright and authentic as it had ever been. What my teachers and peers saw in me was a path I was already on. My path still continues.

I still have my triggers. Of course I do, I am human. But each time something surfaces the conscious effort to process it gets a bit smaller, the duration shorter and the peace comes sooner. I now understand that I have the freedom to choose how I want to be in the world and certainly what I do not have to be. I don’t have to carry on the torch of anger. 

In a training last year, a peer said, “When I heard your name was Shanti and I looked at you and thought your spiritual name made perfect sense.” I smiled and said, “Thank you.” 

If for just one moment someone can feel a sense of self love and appreciation - then that’s the moment when they connect with their inner light. That is peace. That is the magic. And that is my hope with everyone I work with - that I can help them sink in to their Sense of Self and remember the essence of who they are. (Pratyahara)

I will continue to cultivate my own sense of inner peace, because I know what it feels like to live without it. Each day, I am becoming Shanti.

Three Omens

During this second lockdown of the pandemic, I’m finding myself re-treading familiar waters. My mindful practice of seeking the beauty in life for what it is, so as to continue cultivating gratitude, requires a deeper sense of focus, a deeper commitment. I find myself wavering in a way, unlike last time. 

For example…

One afternoon on a solo walk I was showered with an array of amber leaves. It looked like a classic photograph coming to life under a paintbrush of golden pixie dust. Magical. The next day, I felt sad and just wanted to be an ostrich. It was hard to see Spirit’s artistry in life. Luckily….a little boy reminded me how life is still full of joy, still full of surprises.

Here are three similar experiences, that I believe are Omens gifted to me by children.

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ACCEPTANCE

Location: Luang Prabang, Laos, Southeast Asia (2015)

At an evening outdoor market, Dan and I were walking through a narrow aisle, when a little girl was running straight at me. I thought we were going to crash into one another, but when she reached me, she looked up and wrapped her arms around my leg. I looked down at her beaming face. I saw no fear. Just sheer joy. I said “Hi there!” She had been playfully running away from her grandfather when our paths collided. As he spoke to her in Laotian, she held onto my leg. With the tone of his voice and gestures I could tell he was doing his best to goad her back. Each time, she responded by tightening her embrace and with every squeeze her smile got bigger and her large onyx eyes brighter. I came to realize she didn’t see me as a stranger. I was “just someone else”. She held on long enough that Dan joked, “Oh wow, do we keep her?” I laughed. Maybe because of my mixed ethnicity I did look like a local and maybe not. I just felt….loved.

Night Market in Luang Prabang, Laos

SPIRIT

Location: Krabi, Thailand, Southeast Asia (2015)

This is actually two omens in one. 

One afternoon, I floated out in the shallow ocean water and just…was. Between me and the shore was a line of long tailed boats. Behind me, was a great distance of water before the island of Phuket. I could feel the energy of everything around me. It was as though the water amplified everything. So, I closed my eyes, submerged my ears and channeled with Spirit. The message that came through was powerful, one I will never forget. (It really deserves its own blog post). After I was done channeling, I opened my eyes and saw an eagle directly above me. It made several circles before it flew out toward Phuket. Circles represent connection to spirit. The eagle’s orbit felt like a definitive button on the message received. Sort of like Spirit was asking me, “Got it, kid?” Yup!

Afterwards, still filled with the warmth of the message, I decided to sit down on the warm sand and meditate. I sat in the traditional seated posture (Padmasana) and opened my energy to the magic around me.

After some time, I sensed a presence and opened my eyes to see a little boy running circles around me. He was simply…running, as though he could sense a special energy and decided to add his. I closed my eyes so I could better sense his spirit and… he kept running. At some point I sensed a change in his action, so I opened my eyes and waited. With a large smile, he presented me with two deep green leaves. I opened up both of my hands to receive them and he gently laid the leaves in my palms. I smiled gratefully. I was so touched, but was unsure what was meant by them. I looked up at him as if to ask “What am I meant to do with them?” He began to flap his arms and in English said, “You fly,” then pointed up to the sky. He just knew. 

The two “feathers” gifted to me on the beach of Krabi, Thailand

HUMILITY

Location: Santa Barbara, CA USA (present)

Oreo had guided me to a quaint green gate on our afternoon walk. She sniffed its outline thoroughly, while I gazed around. I was standing there just long enough…..“Hi!” Out popped a little boy. He had a full head of brown curly hair and a large smile that said, “Gotcha!”

Such. Great. Timing!

I jumped, smiled and laughed. “Well done!”

“Bye-yeeeeee!” He then ran off into his house.

I laughed the rest of the way home. I was tickled by his timing, the sheer genius of it all and at myself. The had jolted my head out of my ass.

“…so learn to laugh at yourself. It’s really the easiest place to begin. It’s about humility. Laugh at yourself and don’t be so pompous and serious. If you start looking for the humor in life, you will find it. You will stop asking, Why me? and start recognizing that life happens to all of us. It makes everything easier, including your ability to accept others and accept all that life will bring.”

— Archbishop Desmond Tutu, “The Book of Joy”

Indeed, kid, and thank you.

The Shore

A month ago, I received that text.

“Friends, I have some sad news to share….”

I stared at my phone in disbelief.

My reply, “WTF?” 

The friend was from high school. We graduated in 1994, putting us now in our mid-forties; too young. 

Chills begin to surge in my body as the news settled in. It was like standing on shore and watching a tsunami coming. Then it hit. The tears fell and my legs weakened. I wanted to sink to the ground right where I stood but managed to walk to a set of steps and sit down. I let the tsunami crash. The guttural sobs came and quickly the cusp of hyperventilating. I saw myself and could see I was just about to hurl my emotional sense of self out of the plane….

From an inner knowingness, I began to draw in deep, slow breaths. A safety parachute opened. The continual slow, conscious way of breathing created a landing space for me to pause and go within. I was able to ask myself, “What do I need?” 

Sisterhood. All of us, friends since high school, had lost Kristy.

The next few hours were spent in sisterhood on Zoom, sharing our shock and sadness. We heart-fully held one another’s hand and walked through our initial sense of grief together. Eventually, the dismay and tears evolved into laughter as we shared memories of a precious time together, so many years ago.

That evening in bed, I could feel the weight of grief in my body. I knew it needed to be moved through and out. I placed myself on the ground, with only a yoga mat between me and the wood floor. There, I allowed my body the space it needed to just be and breathe. I recognized the outline of my body, the weight of sadness in my belly and ache in my heart. Just breathe, I told myself. Just breathe.

In my line of work, I am fortunate to have cultivated a tool box of compassionate skills to call upon when needed. The training, now ingrained through my sense of being, invited and enabled me to breathe deeply, rather than spiral into hyperventilating. The learning and practicing of such various skills didn’t happen during a time of trauma; they were integrated into my second nature when everything was ok. A few years ago, I read a lovely passage about how laying on firm ground can help one feel rooted within themself, so they have a space to steady their sense of being while grieving. I found beauty in the passage and its words found their way into my consciousness that evening.

Our dominate culture values intellect over intuition, rational over emotion. We rationalize away the importance of self care, reducing our ability to listen inwardly and be self attuned. I was born and raised in this dominant culture of belief systems so I was pretty good at ignoring my internal needs. At one point, I tucked and folded myself inward so well that when I simply couldn’t compact any further, I imploded.

The first time I experienced an anxiety attack was seven months after my mother died. After she died, I did my best to propel myself forward and plod on as if it keeping myself busy after the experience of her transition and absence would make me feel better. The cause (of the anxiety attack) was so insignificant, but it was the toothpick that broke the dam. At a home improvement store, Dan had asked which large flower pot I liked better and that did it. I felt the wave of “too much” crash upon me and I couldn’t breathe. My chest and upper back spasmed, while my stomach juggled boulders and mind whirled. Afterwards, exhausted and confused, it felt as though a rip current had been swept me under, thrashed me and tossed me on shore a bit fragmented.

The second time, there was a lot going on with my dad and I had been in a state of continual worry about him for over a year. Fortunately, I had been a yoga instructor for a few years by that point. Breathing techniques had become a natural resource due to my training and consistent teaching. The warning signs of the anxiety attack were clear. Dan and I had just entered the highway and my chest began to tighten and I felt trapped in the car. The tsunami was building.

In the passenger seat, as the car continued down the highway, I began practicing a conscious breathing technique called Dirga Svasm (Three Part Breath). One’s breath is the most resourceful method to steady one’s nervous system. The Three Part Breath is initiated in the abdomen, expands up through the chest and finally under the collarbones. The exhale slowly releases the collarbones, chest and abdomen. When done correctly, can feel like a soft wave moving through you and a sigh of relief. Each inhale and exhale is smooth, slow and signals to the body that everything is ok. By deepening and slowing down my breath I was able to rescind the wave of the anxiety attack.

That’s what I did when our friend died. Breathed. I also allowed myself to be sad, to embody my sense of grief. Rather than pretending the dark rain cloud wasn’t above me, I instead invited it in. I gave myself permission to check-out so I could check in-ward. I rescheduled a meeting and got my yoga class covered to further cultivate the space needed. I chose to be present with my grief.

“We can enjoy the treasures of the world while they are with us, knowing full well we will not bind to them, nor they to us. And as they depart, our arms open wide and let them fly. Steady in both circumstances, we remember who we really are….This concept has its greatest challenge when we are separated from our friends and loves ones, especially without our permission or when it seems permanent. Our heart feels a vast emptiness where it was once filled with love. At these times it takes great strength to restore and sustain our equilibrium. By securing a place within our hearts to hold their love and by continuing our devoted practice our balance is more easily reestablished.” Nischala Joy Devi, “The Secret Power of Yoga”

Throughout the process of my initial grief, I continued to show up for myself through my daily meditations, walks and practices. While this may be viewed as self discipline (intellectual) it really isn’t. It was and is about paying attention to what I need and how to support myself. These acts of self care, I consider rituals, were cultivated when everything was ok. We cannot ready our emergency kit during the earthquake but we can prepare ourselves with coping skills beforehand. The knowledge and know how can and will be absorbed by the brain and body to be stored as resources for the future.

Grief is a road that can be traveled, no matter how difficult it may be. Even if the tsunami does crash or the tornado sweeps you off your feet, your footing can be re-found by stopping to breathe and be in your awareness. When we cultivate a space and capacity to go inward we are able to to see and hear ourselves. When we are able to see and hear ourself we are able to witness our experiences. Baring witness to thyself can be healing.

During this challenging time of Covid, there are many people who have lost someone and maybe many. It is my hope and prayer that everyone takes the time to nurture themself. As individuals we are vast. Be it physical, emotional, mental or spiritual - be present to every part of you, for each element that composes the beautiful, unique tapestry of You is precious.