Friday, December 21, 2012

The still point of the sun.

Happy winter solstice. :)

Allow yourself to rid the old for the new to be born in this gorgeous transition of seasons into a new day, new era, and new sun. Remember that every loss opens the way for something else, and we must draw the strength and courage to go forth and change our world as we know it. :)

 Here is one of my favorite winter poems, written and perfected by the lovely Margaret Atwood.

"This is the solstice, the still point
of the sun, its cusp and midnight,
the year’s threshold
and unlocking, where the past
lets go of and becomes the future;
the place of caught breath, the door
of a vanished house left ajar.

Taking hands like children
lost in a six-dimensional
forest, we step across.
The walls of the house fold themselves down,
and the house turns
itself inside out, as a tulip does
in its last full-blown moment, and our candle
flares up and goes out, and the only common
sense that remains to us is touch,
as it will be, later, some other
century, when we will seem to each other
even less what we were.
But that trick is just to hold on
through all appearances; and so we do,
and yes, I know it’s you;
and that is what we will come to, sooner
or later, when it’s even darker
than It is now, when the snow is colder,
when it’s darkest and coldest
and candles are no longer any use to us
and the visibility is zero: Yes.
It’s still you. It’s still you."

-Margaret Atwood

photo source: here and here.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Breathing in snowflakes.

Oh Birdy you continue to amaze and inspire me. You know the feeling before tears? That place behind your eyes that fills with emotion when something pulls your heart to the extent of losing control of time and space and control in itself? 

You must.

She sometimes gives me that feeling.

"White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes.."

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

That home.

"If only you could sense how important you are 
to the lives of those you meet;
how important you can be to people 
you may never even dream of.
 There is something of yourself that you leave
 at every meeting 
with another person."
-Fred Rogers

photo by anavicky

I just wanted to wish everyone a lovely Thanksgiving. 
Now, if you aren't nostalgic already (given it's the holiday season) are you now ready to feel an ache rise from your bones to the soon-to-be goosebumps on your skin's surface?

I'm sure I've shared this breathtakingly gorgeous song before 
and tonight,I just couldn't help but share again. 
It's the kind of song that haunts you beautifully 
where you can feel it.

I admittedly regret not learning how to play the piano as a child as I've always been deeply moved by piano notes, particularly in magical, heart swelling songs such as this piece of heaven. 

"Where the doors are moaning all day long
Where the stairs are leaning dusk 'til dawn
Where the windows are breathing in the light
Where the rooms are a collection of our lives
This is a place I don't feel alone
This is a place that I call my home."

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Love the darkness.

My recent article for the fabulous Rebelle Society: 

Life is difficult and complicated. It’ll knock you sideways, upside down, and at times land you flat on your face. You’ll regain your footing, but if life isn’t ready for you to stand quite yet, you’ll be pushed into yet another direction with another roadblock, or another seemingly un-mountable wall to climb. You’ll hold the tremendous pain of something that may have happened or perhaps worse, the pain of something that never will, along with the crushing weight of anything and everything else that is sad in this world.

 Let’s be honest- we all go through it.
 C’est la vie.

“Woken by thinking
Into hours too small
to permit free association,
I lie beneath the weight
of night. Darkness crushes
like a room with shrinking walls.”
-Peter Goldsworthy

Life is also glorious and magnificent. In the depths of our darkest despair, the light sweeps it’s way back in as though the universe knew you couldn’t bear one more failure or disappointment, to take you by the hand, and whisper, “I am here. Come this way.” One door will open after the next, and everything will fall into place effortlessly, as if a path of petals unravels before you, leading the way to only joy and bliss.

"What can I do with my happiness? How can I keep it, conceal it, bury it where I may never lose it? I want to kneel as it falls over me like rain, gather it up with lace and silk, and press it over myself again."
-Anais Nin

Whether you’re in the sun, the shade, or the lingering stillness between, life will continue to change with sometimes shocking speed because no feeling or situation is ever final.

When we are young, some of us dramatize our very existence as though we are the only ones that “attract” the drama. Some of us pour the ups and downs into our art with great fury, creating sentences, music and vivid paintings. Some of us can’t seem to fathom why “what goes up must come down’, and vice versa, so unable to tolerate any uncertainty, so we become fearful of life itself, resisting any form of change at all.

Such efforts to control life won’t work; instead they will only confine us to smaller and smaller comfort zones, shrinking our individual worlds as we know them, and severely limiting us to experience any pleasure in life at all.

As we gather years under our belts, we should learn how to grow more capable of accepting the ups and downs as “normal”, and embrace the rollercoaster that is life. In Buddhism, the “it is what it is” quality is called such ness—tathata—in Sanskrit—as it is.

I remember as an impressionable teenager, I used to stand in great awe of my wise Grandmother’s nonchalant shrugs accompanied by knowing grins when life delivered yet another blow that I at the time, couldn’t possibly fathom handling in my own future. Now, I understand.

It’s liberating to recognize the struggle as an essential part of the learning process. We are too often so afraid of failure that we forget that the heartbreak, defeat, mistakes and regrets give us the very grit and strength we need to get through the next obstacle, as well as the humbleness we must acquire to appreciate the light; and the light will come back, as it always has.

 As it is in nature, nothing is stagnant; everything is fluid and will change, which is crucial to our adaptation, and perfect in itself.

So embrace it; embrace everything: the light, the dark, the rising and the falling. The uncertainties are beautiful, and the wisdom acquired to carry with you forward even more so. Wake each morning with trust, and always allow yourself to be vulnerable whether you’re in the shadows or sun.

“Happy and sad, elated and miserable, secure and afraid,
loved and denied, patient and angry, peaceful and wild,
complete and empty…. all of it.
I would feel everything.
It would all be mine.”
-Stephanie Meyer

Sunday, November 11, 2012

When all else melts away.

"One looks, and looks long, 
and the world comes in."
-Joseph Campbell

"Don't blink your eyes or you might lose your balance." My teacher's voice is confident and stern, sometimes wavering on the line of arrogant, but done in such a way that something tells me to trust it. The words are simple and clear, gently trickling from the podium on which the teacher’s stands, surrounding and seeping into my mind until they essentially become my master. Line by line, minute by minute I obey this dialogue, stretching and straining through each of the twenty-six postures done twice in the humid, 105 degree room, hyper aware of each subtle step, ache, and release, even down to every precise drop of sweat that falls from my body to the soaked towel planted firmly beneath my feet.

I've been practicing Bikram Yoga since January, the yoga that is often misunderstood and even frowned on by many, skeptical of the extreme temperatures, the quirky founder, and over-sexualized reputation, yet this yoga is more adored than criticized. Now I know there is good reason for the passionate, cult-like following of this practice, as it's swept me up into its web, luring me with the pain and pleasure that so many have come to know and love.

 I never understood prior to starting Bikram why it was referred to as a “journey,” but now as I continue to practice, I realize there is no better word. Bikram is a journey to unravel yourself through what at times feels torturous... the pain of breaking through stored injury, stress and emotion the body accumulates through the years of simply living, and rediscovering inch by painful inch everything the ever-connected body and mind have tried to forget, storing these toxic parts deep into the psyche and muscles, protecting you from their harmful grip. There are no short cuts in this journey, and the right way is certainly the most difficult way. Over time there are improvements and there are set-backs, but you continue the practice with improved strength and belief because you know that every tiny step leads you to wellness and self-discovery in ways you’d never expected when you first begun.

To do this yoga, you must face yourself. You are vulnerable and stripped down in every way possible; very little clothing to bear the heat, watching your body unflinchingly in the enormous mirrors, eyes stinging from sweat, muscles straining through the postures commanding every last ounce of strength they have, and having to consciously choose to remain calm and focused in what at times can feel like chaos. The chaos is created by the mind, wanting to just run- run out of the room and into fresh air, where you don't have to face the pain, the truths, the work, and the parts of yourself you dislike. We often do this in our everyday lives, attempting to run and fill them with unnecessary busy tasks, self-medicate with various unhealthy "Band-Aids " or actively seek any other external validation that ultimately won't fulfill us. All of these created escape mechanisms are the equivalent of running out of the hot room, but the way I see it, when you are brave enough to face who you are there is goodness. Often it is through struggle, and adversity where immense wisdom can be drawn.

“Truth is something outside to be discovered, 
it is something inside to be realized.”

 Sometimes, in tough classes the dialogue is my enemy. I'd rather be anywhere else than class, and every movement is a great struggle. In my best classes, the dialogue is my lover; the other students and heat have melted away, along with my usual whirlwind of daily worries, anxieties, and ever expanding “to do” list, and I'm able to fully surrender to this moving meditation, alone and at one with only myself and the words. Ultimately, the dialogue is my route back into the part of me I've so often neglected: my true self. In life, it is there in the hot room that you can once again face yourself, and be introduced to your soul with stunning clarity when all else melts away. 

Photo source: here

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Autumn girl.

I am an Autumn girl. 

"Delicious Autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I was a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns."
-George Eliot

You see, I've always loved the typical Autumnal things, but somehow when autumn sheds her skin in a spectacularly beautiful whirl of color, mood and scent, it goes far deeper for me. It is my belief that no season holds such a state of grace, dignity and profound understanding, so every autumn, I stand in continual awe with the world around me, as nature quietly purges herself to prepare for sleep and renewal. We are all so intricately connected to every part of the land and light, and this interconnectedness seems to show up most in Autumn.

I've loved this particularly gorgeous track by Paul Van Dyk since the age of seventeen. It truly seems to sweep you right into all that is Autumn, as though you were flying through Aspens and mist, madly high off mountain air and wind. It will forever exist as my number one track to drive, walk or even breathe to every October.
Enjoy the ride. :)

photo source: here and  here

Thursday, October 25, 2012

In order to be whole.

There is in every one of us
reasons to move forward.
Move forward
to keep yourself alive.
To make yourself whole.
Lie still with me and watch
the images I know
that will help us push on
in order to stay alive
in order to be whole.

Photo source: here

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Come closer.

"Come closer to me,
come closer,
and I promise you, 
it will be beautiful."
-Anais Nin

I believe that intimacy is one of the most important things we have. We're all connected on this earth, so once I know someone, I want to know them. Small talk is practically unbearable, floating past my ears, which crave so much more. I want to know beyond the sentences describing your breakfast, the weather, your practiced and polite "I'm well, how are you"'s and go deeper. Tell me what's really going on. Are you in pain? Are you in love?  What are your essential things aside from air, sleep, breath and dreams? I'm interested to know the oceans you've crossed, your confusions, your questions, your desires, your world, your soul.

"And I'll be anything you ask and more..."

Photo source: here

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Powerful progress.

 It's a Saturday evening on the last day of June.

 Lately, I've been working hard at existing peacefully in the space between where I am and where I want to be.  I bought a juicer to whip up vibrant and alive food creations to fill my body with nutrients because I believe there is healing in eating intelligently.  I frequently release every toxin and insecurity from my being in the Bikram yoga room; eyes stinging from sweat, muscles straining deep in the stretches, while the teacher's voice fills my ears with the continuous dialogue that "this will change everything." 

I spend time breathing in the humid air that defines the summer here, noticing memories that sometimes reemerge from my years as a teen in Rhode Island.  Some are hauntingly painful, some so sweet I'm swept away into that teenage wonder once again when I am seventeen, there was so much time to live every dream imaginable, and so many places and people to fall in love with.

I'm with my dogs as much as possible, often glimpsing a reflection of myself in their soulful eyes, which catches me off guard enough to notice and improve on certain things. I'm grateful for their honesty.

 I throw myself into my real, idealistic work, giving every last fiber of my mind until my energy wanes, reaching further than that dip any type of caffeine could save, until another day is gone. I push, and I push, and I push to create a world that I can inhabit and truly, truly accept and love as my own. 

"Reasonable people adapt themselves to the world.
Unreasonable people attempt to adapt the world to themselves.
All progress, therefore, depends on unreasonable people."
George Bernard Shaw

  These days fly. They fly into where I hope my aim is pointing.  And when the day pulls you in so many chaotic and confusing directions, face your heart, reach for it, put it back into your chest, and tell yourself that this is what's important.  All we can do my friends, is continue to do the right things, to throw yourself into what drives you, to dare greatly, and to bring forth the intention of where you want to be... physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually, and something powerful can happen.

Speaking of powerful...
this is one of my all time favorite trance tunes.
It's progress, hope, and this moment
wrapped into a masterpiece of sound.

Photo source: here

Monday, June 25, 2012


"The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory, and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful."
-Milan Kundera

I'm not certain as to whether or not my fascination with country settings is rooted in my long history of horseback riding or if there is simply something so beautifully peaceful about the idea of a hill country setting that I cannot help but long for it.  It's probably a little of both or maybe neither; maybe it comes from another place deep within me that I'm still mysteriously unaware of.  Either way, I cannot get enough of farm and field visuals particularly when pretty music is involved.

Needless to say, when I first saw this perfect video
 I wanted to live inside of it.
The Paper Kites.

"In the morning when I wake
And the sun is coming through
Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness
And you fill my head with you.

Shall I write it in a letter?
Shall I try to get it down?
Oh you fill my head with pieces
Of a song I can't get out

Can I be close to you?
Can I be close to you?

Can I take it to a morning
Where the fields are painted gold
And the trees are filled with memories
Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down,
And the day is almost through
Oh, the whole world is sleeping,
But my world is you

Can I be close to you?"

Photo source: here and here

Monday, June 11, 2012

That summer afternoon.

We drove through the golden landscape and hills,
 the wind in our hair and road stretched before us, 
where adventures, creative urges, and epiphanies
 awaited us that summer afternoon.  

We were tipsy
 off one another
as though the sunlight and fresh air 
we invited to fill our lungs 
was actually wine.

I was happy.

Photo source: here