5 Things I’m Grateful for Today: 1) my purple lululemon yoga pants 2) rental cars that handle really well 3) low-fat cottage cheese with organic red raspberries 4) Disco Naps 5) my iphone 4’s extended battery life.

Today is one of those days, where you have so much on your “to do” list, that you just want to curl up and cannonball directly into a pint of Haagen Dazs double chocolate chip.  I had 6 classes to teach ranging from Yoga to “Burn Bliss” to Core Sport.  By noon, I had taught over 150 people and done at least 679 chaturanga pushups.  I kept powering through my list, item after item, until finally I finished my last appointment of the day.  Approximately 62 items still remained on my list, but I decided that instead of tackling them, I would instead choose to breathe, relax, and enjoy my “blissful activity” of the day:  An Afternoon Hike up Paseo Miramar with a friend.

I was getting picked up at 3:30, and had literally not sat down (unless you count sit-ups and core work as “sitting down”) since 7:30 this morning.  Nonetheless, I knew I would find a restful heart and mind by enjoying the cool, sunny afternoon breeze and the stellar views of the pacific. SO…. I hopped in the car, rolled down the windows, and off we went for an adventure up Sunset and the PCH.

The first part of this 5 mile hike is no walk in the park.  Rather, It is a steep uphill climb.  The sun, which was so cool & inviting by the beach, seemed vehemently scorching now as it fogged up my sunglasses and forced beads of sweat down my forehead.  After dozens of warrior series and hundreds of squat presses earlier in the day, I am struggling to keep up with my friend.  Now, He finds this endlessly amusing,…. But as a 6’1” former marine with legs as long as my entire body (I may be exaggerating here just a bit), I feel he has an unfair genetic advantage over me.  I keep falling behind, but after about 20 minutes I’m able to hit my stride and find my breath long enough to notice the extraordinary view of the pacific coastline.

The sky is clear, and the water is a cerulean blue that is a few shades richer than I’ve ever seen it.  We continue our trek straight up the mountain, and I’m surprised by how few people we pass, since this route is usually heavily traversed.  I am struck by the stillness.  By the quiet. By the fact that, in this moment, we seem SO far away from Los Angeles, that I would have believed you if you told me we were journeying up the Amalfi Coast of Italy, or along the Adriatic shores of Croatia.  I allowed myself to get lost in the views, and the smell of fresh air, and the jaunty conversation.  I left all the remaining items on my “to-do” list back at my apartment behind locked doors.  I was able to escape.  To release.  To smile.  To laugh.  And…… to let go.  It was as though this hike was more of a ‘moving meditation’, than a heart-pumping workout.  I allowed myself to dive head-first into this experience…. And to breathe.

We finally reach the lookout point, and sit down on a wooden bench which is “dedicated in memory of”….. someone I don’t know, but who was obviously loved.  As I sit there in a moment of reflection, I realize that….. on this clear day, you actually CAN see forever.  Literally forever, because the views reach from Malibu to Catalina to the Palm Dessert mountains.  Metaphorically forever because, at this moment, it seems SO easy to see Divinity in all this beauty.  Without even trying, you can experience a little piece of enlightenment.

The sun began it’s descent much to quickly for my taste, and we made our way back down the mountain.  This time, in the cool shade of twilight.  Just before we reached the bottom, we heard someone call out “STOP!”.  My heart stopped for a moment as I recalled the “Beware of Mountain Lions” sign at the entrance of the trail.  Just as I was wondering if I could outrun a mountain lion (or at least…… outrun my friend), we got a little closer, and I realized…… it was even worse (at least to a ‘Ophidiophobe’ like me)  A rattlesnake had stretched itself across the entire path.  A big, fat, scary, slithering one.  I froze.  I had never seen one.  At least …. never outside of “Man vs. Wild”, and THAT didn’t turn out so well for “Man”.  I’ll admit it.  I was scared.  The rattle on the tail stopped me dead in my tracks.  My friend, who has seen this dozens of times calmly walked right by the snake, encouraging me to do the same, but I just couldn’t.  for a good 15 seconds I was stone cold still, unable to cross the snake in front of me.  Then I remembered 2 things that I am always reminding myself, and my yoga classes.  “Have faith”, and “face fear”.  So…. I took a deep breath (as my friend Shelly is always reminding me to do) and I rallied my inner strength, as I gingerly (or maybe not so gingerly) sidestepped the obstacle in my path.

Unortunately……I didn’t make it.

Kidding!! I survived to write today’s Blog.  But not without practicing some of my life lessons:  Taking time to breathe, finding God in everything and everyone around me, enjoying open honest conversation, exploring a moving meditation, remembering to listen more and talk less, and overcoming fear.  Just like happiness, these things take practice.  And we call this practice….. Life.

5 Things I’m grateful for today: 1) my mom’s strawberry rhubarb pie recipe 2) iTunes & the classic hip-hop styling’s of Ludacris, Usher, & L’il John  3) fresh dill  4) friends to share my joy of cooking with 5) taking the time to do nothing but enjoy the rich beauty of life.

I woke up this morning to the typical Santa Monica marine layer that we’ve seen all summer long here in “sunny” California.  Our “June Gloom” which decided to overstay it’s welcome into July, August, and September.  This marks the first of the 4 summers I have spent in L.A. that I have not thrown my purple Ugg boots into an ‘out of season’ box with my hoodies and sweaters.  Even my cream wool scarf received a reprieve from the storage bin.

So when I stumbled sleepily out of bed praying for sunshine, I must admit to being a TOUCH disappointed at the daybreak haze.  Cloudy.  Again.  Nonetheless, I was determined to get to my spin class, come hell or high ‘humidity’, so I threw on my uggs and grabbed a travel mug of my ONE perennial ‘anti-fitness professional’ vice (espresso roast coffee with completely UNnatural hazelnut creamer + splenda)…. and began the 1 mile trek to the gym.

The terrain seemed more like the wuthering moors of Sedgemoor than the California coastline, but at this point in my walk I could hardly notice….. being MUCH too busy rockin’ out to the sick flows of Luda and ‘Ursher’ in my headphones.  As I walked into Equinox, I’m fairly certain I was singing aloud en route to my bike… “I left the Jag and I took the Rolls, if they aint cuttin’ then I put ‘em on foot patROLLLLLLL.. AAAOOOW, How you like me now?!?!……”.

Spin class was heart-pumping fun, despite the Justin Bieber- heavy music mix, and the conspicuous lack of Luda.  I hopped off my bike feeling my ‘inner sunshine’ cut through the murky fog outside, as headed off in pursuit of today’s “Blissful”mission”: buying fresh, healthy, ingredients at the local Farmers’ Market for tonight’s dinner.

Tonight I was preparing a homemade dinner of seasonal California fare for a longtime NYC friend who was visiting for the night.  This undertaking is right in line with one of my latest “blissful” passions: a renewed interest in cooking.  I have been having a torrid love affair with simmering, braising, searing, and sautéing.  I once even attempted a fricosee! Sometimes, I’ll use a recipe, and sometimes I’ll throw caution to the wind and throw a handful of the most aromatic herbs and exotic spices into the pan with some EVOO and create decadent combinations that have never before been conceived!  It has been a rich and delicious outlet for my imagination, and has allowed me to tempt my senses and create edible works of art.  Occasionally, I have played a little fast & loose with my ingenuity & been forced to order last minute take-out from Akbar’s Indian restaurant down the street, but all in all…It’s been a delightful and tasty jaunt!   No matter what I endeavor… my joy AND my challenge is to always cook with an awareness of nourishing the body with healthy and delectable whole foods.

As I meander the Farmers’ Market, sweaty and tired from spin, my mind spins with all the delicious possibilities.  With no menu planned I simply maneuver from stand to stand choosing whatever is the

most beautiful!  The ripest heirlooms, the most tender greens, the purplest eggplants, the most sunshine-y yellow peppers.  I take my time…asking the farmers for their favorite recipes, herbs, and flavor combinations.  Along the way… I hear their life stories, rich with experience.  I sense their passion for their food.  I know who sells organic, and who has had farming in their family for more than 5 generations.  I know who grows the best Haas avocados, and who will give you rare & delicious ‘opal basil’ if you ask.  I know that the flower guy at 2^nd & Arizona is a die hard buck-eye, and the vendor who’s famous for his ‘holy guacamole’ is a Michigan fan who was once denied service at a South Bend Denny’s for this abomination.

I spent nearly 90 minutes languidly indulging in the experience of the vibrant marketplace.  Taking it all in.  Listening & learning…perusing crisp produce…tasting fresh peaches and nectarines.  Gathering family recipes.  It was pure heaven.  Time went by without feeling like time at all.

After filling bags and bags with the makings of what will clearly be an orgasmic meal, I was still at a loss for dessert.  Just before giving up & contemplating Ghiradelli brownies…I saw it:  Fresh rhubarb.   A spring phenomena usually well out of season by fall.  I couldn’t believe my eyes!  One of my greatest childhood joys was my mom’s strawberry rhubarb pie.

"Fall" Rhubarb from Santa Monica, CA

Even as a child, I knew this was something magical.  I have always wished I could enjoy fresh rhubarb pie for thanksgiving, but it just never seemed in the cards.  I had resigned myself to using frozen, which (let’s face it) just isn’t the same.  But NOW…I walked over, half convinced the stand was a mirage.  I asked the farmer “How?”  “How could you possibly have rhubarb so late in the year?”  She replied that this summer had been so unseasonably cold, that they were able to grow it into the fall.  Well.  Whaddaya know. The June Gloom had been the catalyst for this unprecedented seasonal marvel.

After buying as many of the rich garnet stalks as I could possibly carry, I walked home to Luda’s flow and thought to myself: it seems every grey cloud really DOES have a silver lining.

5 Things I am grateful for today:  1) my loving yoga students, who presented me with a check for donation to my favorite animal charity  2) the swimming pool at the Shangri La Hotel 3)  my writing  4) my Voluspa gardenia candles  5) love in all it’s various incarnations

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

Grief: Stage 4.

I knew it was coming, so one could argue that I should have been better prepared. I suddenly found myself (a life loving, joy seeking, extrovert) in the most difficult phase of all…….

The ominous…… ‘reflection & loneliness’.  Anyone who has suffered a loss of any kind, will understand this phase.  It is the time when the phone stops ringing, the texts stop pinging, and you have to go out and buy your OWN pinkberry.  This is the time of deafening quiet and absolute aloneness.  The point where friends have to continue on with their own lives & schedules, and society in general feels like you should get on with it, and get over it.  The emotional support is still there of course, but you are left…………… Alone.

Loneliness.  To be blunt….. it sucks.  It attempts to steal our strength by hurling us into a powerless & needy phase, where we feel agonizingly alone, and therefore search OUTSIDE ourselves for comfort and acceptance.  Of course, this search will always turn up barren because we can only ever truly find these things WITHIN.  But this does not stop loneliness.  In our weak & vulnerable state of grief, loneliness is able to convince us that what we REALLY want is external acceptance.  To be hugged and held and kissed and loved.  Loneliness assures us that we NEED to be wanted.  It induces in our hearts an insatiable craving for external attention and appreciation.  In our sadness, we believe (momentarily) that if we can only convince someone…. ANYone to need us and want us and hold us and hug us, that we will somehow be validated.  We will somehow be miraculously healed.  The fatal flaw in this plan, is that we cannot seek this validation from others.  We must find it in ourselves.

This of course is much easier said than done, for very often it is easier to find love from others, than to truly seek it within…. But the kind of love you will find in loneliness is fleeting and superficial.  Real ‘Self Love’ can be deeply elusive.  Many people unknowingly mask their lack of ‘Self Love’ with over-confidence or narcissism, thus creating a façade which robs them of the ability to truly turn their gaze inward.  They build up walls which grow tall and strong around their hearts.

Instead, I’ve decided to convert this stage of loneliness to one of resolute introspection.  I will use this time ‘alone’ to grow and to learn…. to cultivate and honor my gifts.  I will vigilantly remind myself that in knowing my OWN worth, I will attract the TRUE kind of Love…….. when the time is right.

Reflection: It is during this precarious phase of grief that I believe we ourselves determine the destiny of our recovery.  Though…. Destiny may be a careless use of vernacular, since the recovery ACTUALLY rests on the foundation of ‘free will’.   It is in this stage that a choice is made.  We can either seek escape, or…. We can transform.  We can either create a pretense of faux positivity to cover up and deny our pain, or we can seek our authentic joy. We can chose to push the grief and anger way, way, WAY, into the recesses of our heart, and cover it with all the other layers of emotional grime & guck we’ve buried down there, or…. We can make a much more difficult choice.  A choice that can be as frightening and unyielding….. as it is enigmatic and labyrinthine.  We can choose to take an honest look inward and confront our sorrow and our demons head on.

In order to reveal our true radiance, we must expose & confront our melancholy.

Goethe said “to die and so to grow’”.  The Yogis speak of savasana…. A death of the old, to allow for a rebirth of the new.   In her book  ‘BROKEN OPEN: How Difficult Times Can Help Us Grow’, Elizabeth Lesser also speaks beautifully on this subject.

She says:  “Now I know that when we only show our light side to the World, our shadow grows restless, sucking into itself much of our energy and passion.  In order to release my trapped energy and awaken my best qualities, I had to engage with my ‘shadow’.  I had to be broken open so fully that my whole self was laid out before me to own and to forgive and to love.”

AMEN Sister!

So here I am.  Right smack in the middle of the dreaded Stage 4.  Confronting my melancholy.  So today, for my “blissful” activity, I plan to hang out here for awhile.  To own it.  To meditate on it.  To practice yoga through it.  I’m not going to hope and pray for Stage 5 to hurry and show up already.  I’m going to learn to change Stage 4 from the negatives of ‘lonliness and reflection’ to the positives of ‘solitude and transformation’.

Namaste

5 Things I’m grateful for today:  1) my mala beads 2) running into old friends on Montana  3) a reminder from my friend Michele that, no matter how things turn out,  time spent in love is never time wasted. 4) pinkberry with mango, mochi, rasberries & honey 5) a clean white tank from “Splits59”

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

Grief: Stage 2

Well, today It’s been one week since I lost Dagny.  Actually…. 6 days and 22 ½ hours to be exact.  As much as I’d like to skip the 2^nd 3^rd & 4^th stages of Grief  & skip right to step 5: “the upward turn”, I know that’s not exactly how this whole process works.

The merciful 1st stage was achingly short, and I feel like I was forcefully thrust directly into the throes of phase 2.  Pain:  Yes.  The throbbing kind that pierces the front temporal lobe & maliciously works it’s way directly into your heart, and then just kind of lingers there.  Guilt: Oh Yes.  And it’s second cousin; Regret.  For the first couple days, I pretty much stayed in my sweats and wondered why I ever bother loving ANYTHING, since it always seems to end in some kind of heart-wrenching disaster.  (Now…. fortunately, I have the intellectual fortitude to acknowledge these kind of dramatic thoughts as emotional rhetoric.  UNfortunately…. My internal Emma Woodhouse cajoles my heart to indulge in such theatrical musings all too often).  After a good long bout with this type of self indulgent angst (which I suggest the experts add as ‘stage 2 ½ ’), I was able to simultaneously progress to ‘anger & bargaining’, while still firmly rooted in ‘pain & guilt’.  Awesome.  Awesome like a roundhouse kick to the face by Chuck Norris.

During the few days I spent straddling the 2^nd & 3^rd phases (still in my sweats for the most part) I was fortunate to have many friends who provided me comfort in the form of tea, meals, texts, calls, posts, shoulders to cry on…… and pinkberry.  One friend even helped me pick out some homeopathic herbal drops (which, I suspect are not quite as effective when dropped into Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper).  In essence, I had a team of healers.  My own personal ‘Shamans’.  ALL of whom seemed tirelessly happy to put their lives on hold to help me stay afloat.  This love and selfless compassion helped me recover from stage 2, which led me to…..

Grief: Stage 3

Bargaining: It seems that even a romantic dreamer like myself knows better than to try to ‘bargain’ my way out of a death….

Anger: I experienced this uncomfortable phase as an offshoot of Guilt.  Therefore…. The anger I felt was not directed at God, or The Universe’s “plan”, or others.  MY anger was squarely aimed at one person alone.  Me.  My whole life, I have been brutally hard on myself…. demanding an elusive perfection impossible to attain.  In this case, I was angry at myself for not being able to save my puppy, for being sad, for missing one day of work, for not healing fast enough, for letting people down, for burdening my friends and family (again), etc., etc., etc…….  I am exceedingly forgiving of others, but have a truly arduous time extending the same courtesy to myself.  This is something I am working on… both internally, and with my aforementioned healers.  In fact, this is the foundation for today’s “blissful” activity:

Meditation.  Today, I decided to use a new mantra in my practice.  A mantra that was shared with me in love, by a friend and shaman.  A mantra which would remind me to treat myself kindly and with charity:  “Trust and Compassion for SELF and others.”  Now, I know full well that the “SELF and” part would be the challenge, but I wholeheartedly believe that I am up for it!  I simply remember that being good to yourself is not at all ‘selfish’.  Rather, it is an essential aspect of wellness, which enables us to find our Bliss, and share it with each person our lives touch.  Now…. Where are my mala beads?……