Well, the theme for fall in Los Angeles certainly seems to be rainy days!  And as someone who can be supremely susceptible to the ‘gloom’, my ultimate challenge to myself seems to be finding the proverbial silver lining.

As a teacher of Yoga, and an advocate of wellness, I am a firm believer in cultivating balance.   Harmonizing body and mind…. Training our weaknesses to become our strengths…  accessing  unaffected clarity of thoughts… the list goes on.  Many of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras focus on finding this elusive equanimity.   Finding Sthira or ‘stability’ is one of the foundations of the practice of yoga.  This type of constancy,  can be defined as our ability to remain unfettered by external disturbances which threaten our equilibrium.   Now, this sounds like a rather simple concept, but I find it to be one of the most elusive skills to cultivate.  Existing in a society makes it challenging to be unaffected by the energies and perceptions of other people.

In an era inundated with ceaseless texting, emailing, facebooking, tweeting and ‘God knows what’ other social media, we are constantly assaulted by the needs, demands, thoughts, and desires of others. As lady gaga so wisely says: “Stop calling, Stop calling, I don’t wanna think anymore!”  These words so often come to mind when my iPhone is ‘blowing up’ like the Chernobyl.  In these moments, I truly appreciate the value of silence.  There are times when I feel like I am always on the go…. Running from classes to meetings to photo or tv shoots… answering emails and texts and tweets from my iPhone every time I hit a stoplight or wait in line at the grocery store.  Often, it feels like the demands on my time and the appeals for immediate and constant accessibility are ENDLESS!  There is simply always SOMETHING productive I could be doing.  One more critically important item on an immeasurable ‘TO DO” list.  To avoid going diametrically insane, all this madness simply MUST be tempered by stillness.  Or at least… a slight pump of the often neglected brakes.

So today I chose a blissful activity that is utterly antithetical to my natural inclination toward perpetual motion: I stopped.

The incessant downpour of rain provided the perfect backdrop for me to take a full day off.  From everything.  Yes….. even my iPhone.  And….. (gasp)……  facebook!!  In fact, I even took the day off from getting dressed.  I simply stayed in my pajamas all day.  I sat snuggled under a down comforter on the couch eating food that was delivered to me, and watched movies.  I started with a new Horror release: “Splice”, and culminated my day of rest with a legendary classic (and personal favorite) “Aliens”.  (As you can tell… I’m not a “romantic comedy” kind of girl.  I’m more a “watching-Arnold-Schwarzenegger-destroy-millions-of-Predators-without-a-scratch” kind of girl.)

For a WHOLE day, I did not turn my phone on.  I did not update my status or open my laptop.  I didn’t even put my contact lenses in.  I simply recharged.  And it felt…… Amazing!!!!!!

Sometimes we forget that we absolutely do NOT have to be instantly available to anyone and everyone who contacts us.  The emails can wait a day (or even 2 or 3) without anyone’s world ending.  Alarmingly…. no natural disasters occurred from the fact that I did not respond to every text I received.  Sigourney Weaver did not have to emerge and save us from acid-blooded Mother Aliens that descended as a result of my NOT tweeting for a day.  And though I did get a few worried calls from friends and family who thought I SURELY must have died since I had not updated my status in  24 hours, even THEY survived.  Everything was still there, patiently waiting for me the next day.  And by the time the clouds cleared, and I re-entered the world, I actually felt READY to be back.

Sometimes…. it’s astounding how invigorating a little retreat from life can be.

5 Things I’m grateful for today: 1) pumpkin lattes with extra whip 2) Steaming hot showers 3) grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup 4) my Mom 5) my extra fluffy, super comfy white bathrobe.

Today was not the typical Los Angeles Day.  Today I did not grab my Rainbow Brite beach towel & bottle of Hawaiian tropic to head to the Shangri-La pool.  I did not grab my wetsuit & surf board to hit the waves at Venice beach.  I didn’t even throw on my cut-offs & Havianas to walk leisurely around Montana Avenue.  Because today was a meteorological anomaly for Southern California.  Today…… it was cold & raining.

Now, to the rest of the country this may seem a very trivial detail, but here in LA, we approach these days much like North Easterners approach snowstorms.  We don coats & scarves and slickers.  We drive cautiously at well under the speed limit to avoid hydroplaning.  We hit the local grocery stores to load up on amenities like canned goods, bottled water & toilet paper.  We skip our usual errands and trips to the gym, and we start eating soup & snuggling under comforters.

So today, I decided to enjoy an unusual ‘blissful activity’, and take a long walk in the rain.  I went into my storage bin & pulled out my ‘marc jacobs’ rain boots (which I found at nearly 75% off at Fred Segal, due to the fact that it NEVER rains here, so naturally…. there is a very limited demand for rain boots).  I then whipped out the only rain-slicker I own, which is branded with the logo from a show I performed in long ago.  Now this would be PERFECT if that show was ‘singing in the rain!’ but sadly, it was “The Best Little Whorehouse in TX”.  So, to be honest….. I have gotten some confused & judgmental looks from the locals the 2 times I have worn it in my 5 years here in LA.

In a few moments, I was all decked out like ‘Paddington Bear” & ready to take on what any self-respecting Los Angelean would consider two completely unthinkable tasks:  braving a rainstorm, and…………… walking!  Nevertheless, I threw caution to the wind, and off I went!  At first I felt cold and a little bit miserable as the cuffs of my ‘extra long’ lululemon sweats got more & more drenched with each step.  But after a bit, I was able to appreciate the crisp clean air, and the captivating music created by the rhythm of raindrops splashing on Prius windshields.  I could almost feel the stillness, as the normally hectic pace of Wilshire Blvd was now quieted to a slow crawl.  Before long, I made two very important discoveries: 1) my rain boots provide excellent traction, and 2) Santa Monica is not built for rainfall, so HUGE pools of water had formed in nearly every parking lot, and almost all crosswalks.  Within minutes, I found myself giggling hysterically and splashing like a 5 year old through every puddle I could find!  I would slosh through the shallow ones, and take flying JUMPS into the biggest ones (which, in my experience, were largely found in  bank parking lots).  I created astounding splashes that Poseidon himself would envy.  I’d stomp and slosh and plunge into any and every standing pool of water, until I’d absolutely exhausted myself with delight!!

On the way home…. Drenched and dripping, I stopped into a Starbucks for their seasonal pumpkin latte (whipped cream and all).  The aroma of the spices instantly transported me back to those crisp fall days of my childhood back East, when I’d roller-skate in the driveway and rake leaves with my family… (well, to be perfectly honest before my Mom calls me out, I did more jumping and cart-wheeling into piles of leaves than actually RAKING them).  Either way… with unabashed joy, and nostalgic thoughts of crushing crunchy colored leaves beneath my feet whirling around in my brain, I walked home gleefully.

Sometimes….. it’s the cloudiest days, and the simplest things, that create our brightest moments.

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 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?……

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.

“Advance, and never halt, for advancing is perfection. Advance and do not fear the thorns in the path, for they draw only corrupt blood.” – Kahlil Gibran

“They say that nobody is perfect. Then they tell you practice makes perfect. I wish they’d make up their minds.” – Winston Churchill

Perfection: the highest degree of proficiency, skill, or excellence

Spring is here! Well…… kinda. Sorta.

OK, OK, you’re still spending more time in your rain boots & slicker than in your flip-flops, but that’s no excuse to be gloomy!  Even here in LA we are being drenched with downpours that bring to mind the “Perfect Storm”, but I am determined to find JUST that amid the grey & gloom.  Perfection.

Some say it doesn’t exist at all.  I protest (loudly) that it does!  Perfection has nothing to do with having a sublime physique, or a foolproof career path.  Perfection is neither the absence of mistakes, nor the procurement of all the right answers.  It does not involve having that elusive utopian relationship, or grasping all your lifelong goals.  In fact… Perfection Itself, is not perfect at all.  It is rather, a choice.  A decision to be happy, and to tirelessly seek out joy.  Even amidst the most stormy or desperate of circumstances.

In the quote above (one of my favorites) Gibran brilliantly defines ‘perfection’ as a verb.  An action.  It has purpose, energy & momentum.  Perfection can be explained by one simple yet dynamic act: “Advance”.  And do it fearlessly.  We can all realize perfection, simply by taking the first step.  Bliss is not about reaching a destination.  In fact, by Gibran’s definition, One can never actually “arrive” at perfection, because in doing so, one would cease to “advance”.  The beauty of life and love is in the journey.   In that courageous first step.  The choice to be happy, and to share that bliss and compassion with each person we encounter… from our dearest loved ones, to the barista that makes our lattes.  And yes, even to your least favorite ‘ex’ who dumped you via payphone then trashed you on facebook.  Extending love THAT far is the pilgrimage of perfection, and the gateway to our own prosperity.

I know Churchill claims that “they” can’t make up their minds, but I believe those that come down on the side of “practice makes perfect” are absolutely correct.  We should practice our happiness every day.  And just like with any practice, this is usually no easy task.  It is challenging to exercise felicity.  Some days… more challenging than others.  But we MUST practice.  Everyday.  Every hour.  Every moment.  We must drive ourselves to overcome any and all external factors beyond our control, and valiantly pursue the light.  We can’t always subjugate the circumstances of our environment, but we CAN regulate the manner in which we react to them.  We can choose….. even in a failing economy, or amidst a devastating breakup… to seek out the joy.  To find the delight.  Believe me…. It exists.  Whether it is in the company of a friend, or in a smile from a stranger that reminds us we are important.  We are significant.  We matter.  Beauty & joy exist all around us.  Even in the eye of the storm.  Especially there.  It is THERE that we learn what we are truly capable of.  What we can endure, and how we can thrive. To persevere in the heart of chaos; in “the perfect storm”: that is perfection.  The adventure.  The voyage.  The advance.  Happiness is everywhere.  We just have to train our eyes to see.