5 things I’m grateful for today: 1) my friends Carrie and Michelle for inspiring me to remember my strength 2) Rachel, Amy, Nicole and Mike K. who got me through the night. 3) the homeless man who literally gave me the shirt off his back  4) my friend Andy for bringing me green tea with agave & soymilk, without me having to ask 5) my mom for talking me through my grief, and my dad for flying across the country to help me recover 6) because today, I need a 6^th) the kindness of strangers

The 7 stages of grief:  1) shock & denial 2) pain & guilt 3) anger & bargaining 4) reflection & loneliness 5) the upward turn 6) reconstruction 7) acceptance

Grief: Stage One

I really don’t know how to write this blog.  I didn’t want to.  I just wanted to stay in bed under the covers and weep.  I wanted to cry and scream and feel sorry for myself for all the challenges I’ve had to go through this year.  Right now, it just seems like too much.

2 days ago, I lost my sweet puppy Dagny to a hit & run driver who nearly ran us both over as he plowed almost 50 mph down a residential street in Santa Monica.  She didn’t suffer.  I can’t say the same for me.  I just sat there, in the middle of the street, screaming and crying & holding her tiny little body even though she was gone.  I could not let her go.  I could not put her down.  I could not believe it had happened.  As I sat there in my grief I really believed that if I just WANTED it enough, she would come back.  That this hadn’t actually happened, and it was all just a horrible horrible nightmare.  I kept telling myself to wake up. WAKE UP!!! It will all be ok…… this couldn’t possibly have just happened.

I sat there with her like this for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, before a kind motorcyclist who had witnessed the accident came over… & helped me off the road and over to curb.  That’s when I noticed: he wasn’t alone.  5 or 6 motorists who had witnessed the accident and seen my profound heartache had all stopped their cars, and bikes, and evening jogs to come comfort me.  Some shared my tears, some sat nearby in reverent silence.  Some offered kind words & support…. And one even offered an ativan to help quell my heaving sobs & hyperventilating.  I couldn’t breathe.  I couldn’t speak.  I could only weep. My sobs came directly from the center of my being.  I was traumatized.  I felt broken all over again.  As if it had finally happened….. my heart had finally been ripped apart & wrenched out of my body to die there on the side of the road with my dog.  And she was not JUST my dog…. I really believe she was my angel.

Within moments, 2 of my friends arrived & wrapped their arms around me.  They did not ask me to stop crying.  They did not ask me to let go.  They did not tell me it would be ok.  They just surrounded me with their love & support, which I could feel even through my sorrow.   One of the motorists, whom I’d never met, and whose name I never heard, took Dagny from me, and wrapped her warmly in a shirt I didn’t recognize and placed her back down gently on the grass.   My tears poured out faster & faster, as my breath got shorter & shorter.  My friend Amy, who is one of the most incredible mothers & all around human beings I know, just held me.  She reminded me to breathe. I couldn’t.  She stayed, and breathed for me, until eventually my panic slowed, and I was able to exhale.  Finally…. After nearly an hour, I was able to give Dagny to my friend Mike, who had dropped everything he was doing to drive over to  help.  He took Dagny to be buried.  I wept as he carried her off.  I simply couldn’t accept that I’d never see her sweet face again, or laugh at her wet kisses.  I wept as Amy walked me home, and as more friends came over with food (which I couldn’t eat) & love (which I didn’t have to ask for).

Hours later, when I felt nearly cried out, my sobs finally slowed and I found myself in a room filled with just a handful of ALL the incredible people who bless my life so richly with their love.  All I could say was “thank you”.  All I could think was how healing unsolicited, unconditional love is.  And how fortunate I was to have it from so many people.

So that day… the saddest day I have known, maybe in my life… my commitment to my “bliss” was to allow my friends to see me at my most vulnerable, and to LET them be there for me, and show their love.  As someone who is much more comfortable GIVING help, it is often a challenge for me to receive it…. to admit that I actually NEED it.  But this time… I did.  I tried to remember how much joy it brings me to support others with help & inspiration, and that it brings my friends the same joy to return it.  We all want to be able to show our love by giving unconditionally.  The other half of this…. The half I SO often forget…. Is that we have to be able to RECEIVE this love and support as well. Graciously, wholeheartedly, and without apology.

I saw both sides of humanity that night.  First, the recklessness of someone in a black Lexus who could destroy one life, and shatter another without even slowing down.  And simultaneously, the polar opposite… the part of humanity that I sincerely believe is massively more prominent in our world…. the selflessness of humanity.  On this evening, that magnanimity was embodied in an elderly homeless man on 14^th street, who saw the heart-wrenching anguish of a complete stranger, and offered her friends the shirt off his back so she could lay her dog to rest.

I have walked the neighborhood these past two days looking for this compassionate soul…. Hoping to thank him, and maybe return the kindness in any way I can.  I’ve not seen him anywhere.  Maybe, he too was an angel… sent to remind me that even when we feel we have lost everything, we still have SOMETHING that only we can give.   And sometimes….. that ‘something’ can mean the world to the person who receives it.

5 Things I’m grateful for today: 1) my breath 2) my Black Cherry “Manduka Pro” Yoga Mat 3) my Rip Curl summer wetsuit 4) my friend Justin for detailing my pink beach cruiser 5) chocolate chip pancakes, from Blue Plate on Montana

This morning I woke up and practically BOUNDED out of bed. Now, on a normal day, I would attribute this to the very bold French Roast I typically enjoy first thing in the morning, but today, there was another reason. This morning I was headed to Venice Beach for a Yoga + Surfing workshop! Now, ordinarily I would not choose a “blissful” activity that began at the ungodly hour of 6:45am, but this endeavor seemed well worth bypassing the (very tempting) snooze button. SO… sans coffee, I rode down to the shore on my pink beach cruiser & met my friend Cristi for our sunrise yoga practice on the beach. The flow focused on heart opening & core strength. I felt invigorated by my own breath, & the haze of the rising sun as it struggled through the sticky marine layer. After almost 90 minutes of practice, and what seemed like approximately 7, 685 chaturanga pushups, I felt ready to pop up on my board and face the ocean head on. That is….. until I physically approached the ocean head on, and found the surf wild, gray, dangerous…… and actually BEATING the shore as if in retribution for some unforgiven offense. Ummmm…. This did not look at ALL like the flyer with the picture of the cute, bikini-clad cartoon surfer girl smiling and happy on her pretty pink surfboard, and drinking what I could only imagine was an organic mimosa. No…. this was more like a scene from The Perfect Storm. Only…. minus George Clooney. (Or even Mark Wahlberg). As I stood there in my wetsuit, watching my fellow yogis (all of whom suddenly seemed to be seasoned surfers) dive headfirst into the ocean, only to get immediately pummeled by bone crushing waves, I seriously contemplated bailing altogether and trading in my surfboard for chocolate chip pancakes, the New York Times, and the safety of shore.

But I didn’t. Instead, I channeled my inner yogi, and took a breath….. deep & calming….. and then dove in after my companions, who by now were out past the white water. After all, someone once said: “The brave do not live forever, but the timid do not live at all”. Was it Twain? Franklin? Maybe it was Dumbledore…. In any case, it seemed applicable. And, in this moment…. I wanted to Live! And, miraculously…. despite my limited experience and a raging tide, I did. (barely)

In the very midst of the challenge, and the fear, (and the several gallons of salt water I inhaled), I managed to completely give over to the experience. I felt a truly heart-opening life shift out there in the pacific. 2 hours of breathlessly tackling insane winds and herculean inside breakers. Paddling with everything in my being just to barely tread water. Getting pummeled… over, and over, and over again. Crushed, breathless, & beaten, I’d get right back up, and go right back out. Now, SOME might call this obstinance, but I prefer to think of it as HEART. I summoned all my strength, endurance, determination & fearlessness…. until finally… JUST when I thought I’d never get there, I pushed past the breakers to the awe inspiring tranquility of the quiet, rolling water beyond. I sat on my board and surrendered to the beauty of this stillness. A stillness I had not experienced in a VERY long while. Simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated, I smiled and cried at the awesome power of the ocean, and the astonishing majesty of life.

After a few moments reveling in this languid bliss… I found my balance, and rode the most perfect, most frightening wave all the way to the shore. And then another. And another. Each time I paddled out, I found myself tackling the breakers with more and more confidence…. in awe that surfing is such a prodigious metaphor for life: Sometimes… just when we reach our breaking point, and feel as though everything is over…… The greatest ride of our life BEGINS.

Well……. It’s been awhile since my last blog. A long while, to be truthful. Many times in the past several months I have sat down to the computer to share words of wisdom, and found myself distracted by phone calls, or emails, or Facebook. I’ve made excuses (“but there’s a re-run of FRIENDS on”), I’ve procrastinated (“I’ll do it right after I watch this re-run of “FRIENDS”), and I’ve scolded myself for my laziness (“I’m Horrible for watching a re-run of FRIENDS when I should have been blogging!!!!”). All of this worry & stress still was not enough to motivate me toward my laptop, which was very busy gathering dust in the back corner of my closet, somewhere behind my box-set of FRIENDS. I would occasionally even get minor panic attacks at the mere thought of writing a blog…. “what will I write about??”, “what if it’s not good enough??”, “would Chandler think this blog was funny??”. Time and time again I avoided the dreaded task…. Wondering how something that I once enjoyed SO much, was suddenly more foreboding than the Mayans’ predictions for 2012. Then, one day in July, after a particularly tragic attempt at writing (I think that blog may have actually begun: “GLUTEAL WORK: Don’t get “Behind”. Yikes.), I realized. It wasn’t the phone, or the re-runs, or facebook. It was fear. Plain & simple. I was afraid that…. for the first time in my life… I might actually have nothing to say. This is because for the last 8 months, I have been going through a very challenging & contentious divorce. And on that particular day in July, I was afraid that the whole terrible process had stolen my voice.

Today it will be 237 days since I ended my marriage. 238 days ago, I was married. Today, I am not. For 236 nights, and 237 days I have fought with everything inside to hold onto myself, while at the same time trying desperately to allow myself , the space & forgiveness to grow and heal. Since this website is all about finding Bliss, I will keep it brief, and simply say that the past 8 months have been, without question, the most challenging of my life. In, fact I was watching a study on the news recently, which found that people who have gone through a divorce are 40% more likely to age quickly, and die sooner. Forty Percent. Great. How was I supposed to Blog about “Bliss” & “Wellness” when experts say I am clearly doomed to premature crows feet, and probably only have another 6 months or so to live? The thought of tackling inspirational blogging at this point seemed just overwhelming. WHY would anyone be interested in ANYthing I have to say? So I said nothing.

Over the past 8 months, I have been tried & tested. I have been shattered, hurt, disappointed, and stressed near my breaking point. I have cried, hyperventilated, yelled, and screamed (sometimes at those who didn’t deserve it). I have felt lost, exhausted, confused, manic, and occasionally….. even broken beyond repair. But it turns out…. I wasn’t broken. During those same 8 months, I have smiled and laughed. I have danced and surfed, and cycled. I have painted, and journaled, and dreamed. I have witnessed breathtaking sunsets and heartbreaking Art. I have read books… from the inane to the classics, from self-help to the Yoga Sutras. I have lived and loved and healed. I have grown and learned and soul searched. In essence… I have survived. And beyond merely surviving…… I have managed to find a deeper version of myself. A more authentic ‘Me’. Despite the nearly unbearable havoc that Divorce has inflicted (not just on me, mind you….. but on ALL those who love me the most), I have NOT lost my voice. Or my heart. Or my laughter. Rather….. I have actually FOUND these things again. and… in a more profound way than ever.

From this day… from this very MOMENT onward, I intend to develop a deeper, more personal relationship with my Joy. with my LIFE. I had lost so much during my marriage, that I simply refuse to waste another breath NOT being the best version of myself I can possibly access. This of course, begs the question “HOW do I access my best self?”. And this is when, (as I have so often done in moments of major life crises) I turn to my Father ‘s sage advice. During a particularly challenging time, my Dad reminded me that “Happiness is a choice”. A conscious decision to control our own thoughts, feelings, & destiny. Well… I found this extremely comforting. Happiness is not something that simply ‘happens’ to us one day. We have to choose it. We have to love ourselves enough to truly believe that we deserve it. and To CHOOSE happiness takes hard work, peaceful dedication & patient nurturing. To take care of others, we have to first take care of ourselves.

And Thus begins my brand new journey! My commitment to help others find their health, wellness & Joy, by remembering to nurture and cultivate my own. Each day, I am going to do something…. At least ONE thing … that exists exclusively to fill my heart & feed my soul…. and then Blog about it. A daily commitment to my Bliss. I am going to show my gratitude for this amazing LIFE I’ve been given, by seizing every opportunity to choose JOY. I’m going to “Carpe Diem” my little heart out!!! I’ll begin each Blog entry with “5 Things I am grateful for Today”… and then share my journey. I hope you’ll join me on an adventure of your own.

5 Things I am grateful for Today: 1) The courage to talk about the end of my marriage, and the beginning of my new life 2) My tirelessly devoted Family & Friends, without whom this transition would have seemed insurmountable. 3) my students, who inspire me EVERYDAY with their strength, integrity, dedication, and open hearts 4) gummi coke bottles 5) The profoundly limitless possibilities of Life