Decembers

Since I was a little kid, Decembers meant holidays, school breaks, and a shift from one year to the next. In university, it meant longer breaks, hangouts with friends, and a bit of goal setting for the next. As I shifted into teaching high school, that December break took on a new meaning, travel. Living in New York, that travel was often geared towards someplace warm, for a hit of vitamin D, and a spot in the heart of winter to rejuvenate my spirit. And all those years since, the month that houses the shortest day of the year and the start of winter, has continued to have even more meaning in the life of this girl who loves summer.

It was in December when I had my first solo travel experience. It was in December when I first traveled to the other side of the world and fell in love with the land of koalas and kangaroos. It was in December when I went to New Zealand and today, 15 years later, am married to the boy I met on that trip. And it was in December when we left New York to move to San Diego, when we had our first kiss, when we got engaged, when my Dad passed away, and when we drove back to New York to stay for a while after that experience.

Growing up, I never looked forward to December. To me, it was cold, dreary, the start of my least favourite season, and the literal darkest time of year. A close college friend of mine once told me she didn’t think I should ever make decisions in the height of winter or that of summer. She knew that I was the happiest with my toes in the sand and would muddle through the season of snow. I’ve never forgotten that advice and often use it to check and guide my decision-making process. Today, I’m grateful to live in a city that has a minimal winter experience, allows more regular hits of vitamin D exposure, and continue to remind myself of my decision-making skills depending on the season.

Well, it’s December again, and this one will go down in the history books. While this December’s travel took us as far as our tiny terrace, we’re here, we’re grateful, and as always, looking forward. Nowadays, Decembers are a mix of emotions for me. While it now begins with Dad’s yahrzeit, it then continues to remind me of travel adventures past and catapult me towards dreaming about future ones. Although neither of us were fans of the coldest season of the year, both Dad and I looked forward to the solstice – oddly enough, for two people who could spend an entire day outside, the shortest day of the year meant something ever more significant than its darkness. The bigger picture of that day was that as of that next morning, the light would continue to grow.

2020 has been a doozy of a year. It’s been hard, and harder still for so many. While our daily existence has without question been changed, these months of lockdown, quarantine, border closures, and all things Zoom has forced us to be grateful for the little things, find perspective in our daily lives, learn to practice patience, embrace a closeness of heart, find new ways to do old things, give perpetual thanks to the heroes among us, and to strive towards acceptance of that which is beyond our control. We may not have been able to cross those physical borders, but we have managed to share love, virtually hug, and connect in more ways than one. This December is different to those that have come before, but like those others, this month has still managed to remind me to find gratitude, practice perspective, and to remember that amidst the darkness, there is and always will be, light. So, as this December draws to a close, in more ways than one, I continue to find myself seeking that light. Wishing you and your loved ones health, love, and happiness today and always. Here’s to a lighter, brighter tomorrow for us all.

A journey into yoga anatomy

“It is through the alignment of the body that I discovered the alignment of my mind, self, & intelligence”

– BKS Iyengar

My yoga journey began on a beach in New York nine years ago. Five and a half years ago, we moved to San Diego. Amidst this coastal shift, I consider myself lucky to have found a new, welcoming yoga community. I met Kellie at the first studio I joined. Without a moment of conversation, she innately noticed the scoliosis in my back and was mindful of my self-disclosed asthma. Her mindset and yoga therapy approach set both my body and mind at ease. A few years ago, that studio closed, the community spread in different directions, and while new bonds formed, others remained in tact. After a few years away, I find myself again grateful for her effervescent personality, nurturing demeanor, yoga therapy mindset, and wealth of healing knowledge.

We will play outside again

These past few weeks have been, well, shall we say, insane. Pandemic, heartbreak, death, protests, unequivocal inequality, riots, and Mercury’s in retrograde. As always, there have also been rays of light – positive Supreme Court decisions, positive therapeutic steps towards this horrific virus, conversations that need to be had, voices elevated that have far too often gone unheard, and the first day of summer grows closer by the day. We are lucky, grateful, and filled with heart to know that we are surrounded by love, community, and humans who care for us. In the grand scheme of it all – our life is privileged. We are all part of the human story and each one of us has a job to be kind, to lift each other up, to lend a hand, and not only to listen, but to hear, learn, deal with potentially issues that make us uncomfortable, and grow from wherever we are. It’s not easy, but it’s so much harder for so very many.

This pandemic and the continuing dis-ease of it all is troubling. This week, we were supposed to be in Melbourne, Australia spending time with family and friends we haven’t seen in 18 months. Like so many, we’ve been officially grounded (it’s been seven months for us) and like so many, the not knowing when it is we’ll be able to even plan to connect in person with those loved ones again is hard, really hard. The other night, I stood, gazing at the sky out the window of our studio apartment and closed my eyes. Tears and all, I put my thoughts out into the universe – somehow, they came out similar to those below – in poem form. I believe. I believe in science, in people, in the good of humanity, in light, and without question, in love. I don’t know when and I sure don’t know how, but I know that one day, it will be okay. We will play outside again and when it is safe for us ALL to do all the things we’d like with all the people we love – the world will smile, the Universe will let out a deep sigh, and our spirits will, once again, feel like flying.

We will play outside again, we’ll breathe the air and touch the sky

We will travel far and wide, our eyes aglow and spirits high.

We will hug and run and laugh on beaches feeling free

The pandemic will be in the past – we’ll be right where we should be.

We will fly and join again on crowded starlit nights

We will dance and sing again and hold each other tight.

We will fall in love again with Mother Nature and her crew

We will meet our friends again right where we wanted too.

We will dine with others again, and eat off each other’s plates

We will raise a glass or two, and share with all our mates.

We will choose a path again and reignite our souls

We will put each other first and equalize our roles.

We will find our feet again, shift our thoughts and change our ways

We will strive for light and love and hope for better days.

We will play outside again, we’ll breathe the air and touch the sky

We will play outside again, our hearts will soar and spirits fly.

Stay safe, sweet friends. Sending you all that much needed virtual hug. Love and light to all.

 

Podcasts, idling and the science of happiness

Yes, I’m definitely behind the times – but it’s the getting there that matters, not the time it takes to get there, right? Like so many others, it’s been about 11 weeks of a straight up life shift. This is hard and harder for so very many. And, like many who are finding the emotional roller coaster of all things global pandemic, I too go through phases of let’s be productive and learn something new and ugh, I’m going to go lay on my yoga mat and hope that when I open my eyes the world is healthier, kinder, and far more equitable. Does that happen to you?

Keep showing up – it matters

I’ve been noticing moments of clarity and awareness coupled with those of anxiety and fear of the unknown – have you? Sure, it comes in waves and as the days tick by there are moments when it feels the paralyzing fear of the beginning has slightly ebbed – and then I remember that we have to go downstairs to get the mail or pick up a food delivery and that feeling of panic sets right back in. And don’t get me started on the dreams – those are a constant roller coaster. Still, I seem to find awareness creeping in a bit more – perhaps it’s part of those stages of grief and getting closer to acceptance of this new reality in lieu of fighting against it (even if unknowingly), I don’t know. Either way, the act of noticing has become a bit more prominent in my world these days – what about you? How are you holding up? What are you noticing?

Grounded in the storm

When was the last time you left your house? When was the last time you did something that felt plain old ‘normal’ – you know, the old normal? In an act of quite literally global solidarity, gratitude for our healthcare workers, and compassion for the weakest among us – the world has quite literally come to a screeching halt. It’s scary, it’s daunting, and more often than not seems utterly uncertain – but we’re in this together, all of us – for the good of humanity. How are you doing with it all?

Change – it isn’t always easy

Change is good. For decades I ran away from it, was afraid of it and swore I wasn’t any good at it – today, that’s different (although I’m still not at ease with it). Somehow those beginning weeks of January tend to feel as if we’re standing on a precipice and it could all go in any direction. We could turn back and head towards our same choices and habits or go forward into the unknown. We could dangle here on the edge for awhile and hedge our bets with the thought of lifting off or falling back down the rabbit hole and wait until we feel comfortable with one or the other. We could leap with the possibility of falling, but what if, perhaps we fly? There’s rarely an easy answer, a comfortable feeling or a right time – often it’s trust your gut, trust your journey and believe that the net will appear (because really, you’re your own net).

Abundance, Kindness and Light in 2020

Welcome to the new year – Happy 2020, all.

Gratitude. Curiosity. Space. Kindness. Courage. Trust. Change. Boundaries. Forgiveness. Self-care. Openness. Receptivity. Activism. Love. Light. Creativity.

In recent years, people seem to be talking less about particular resolutions and more about a theme for the year. That central theme for the entire 365 days might help to redirect shifts that appear, center choices and realign things that are serving you and discard those that no longer are. Do you have a theme for this year?

Reflections of 2019 – The year I officially got to be a mermaid

Wasn’t it just January? This year seems to have flown by in the blink of an eye. It’s as if we’ve been bitten by Disney magic and time is a medium all its own. There are years that seem to last far more than their 12 months and others that feel lightning fast, this one was the latter. How has 2019 treated you?

Begin Again

It’s January of 2019 – can you believe it? We blinked and December turned to January, the days are getting longer and the promise of a new year is upon us. What will you do with the blank pages? How will you make 2019 your best year yet?