guidance

When I walked up to my husband I had tears in my eyes. That is NOT a common occurrence, so he looked at the picture I had in my hand, that I had walked over to show him. It was the photo above. He’s a “major weeper” around me, so he became a puddle in seconds.

You know why?

We are both “strong people”and no one EVER asks us how we’re doing or if we’re okay.

Does that happen to you?

It’s really not that people don’t care to ask you, they just don’t think of it.

We know that about the world, so we ask each other, with the promise that we aren’t allowed to answer with the obligatory I’m fine, if that’s not the the case.
Complete honesty is required. We have earned each other’s trust, so it releases us of any reservations about letting our guard down.

Being strong is a blessing and a curse.

I’ve had some really nasty shit happen to me in my life, and basically everyone around me just assumes I’m going to be “fine.” I always am, so they’re right. 
But……

I have screamed, in anger at whomever was in the room, “what do I have to do? Bleed? Does blood have to pour out my eyes in order for you to see how much emotional pain I’m in?”

The response was always the same. “I just figured you were okay.”

I love that I instill that level of confidence in people, but for Gods sakes, ASK me if I’m okay.

Ask me how I’m feeling. Ask me how it’s going, or if I need help, because I’m a big girl and I’ll let you know if you have overstepped my emotional boundary, although that’s pretty hard to do.
I’ve talked recently to many other strong people I know, to ask them what they need when something goes down.

I’m going to give you a few simple steps in my GUIDE TO HELPING THE STRONG:

Sometimes us strong ones, we need a hug. If you’re too uncomfortable to talk to me, hug me. I promise, I won’t ever push you away.

Just a simple “I’m here for you” when you don’t know what to say to us, is beyond appreciated.

We’ve heard “You’ve got this” all our lives, and we do, because we’re the strong ones, so please don’t say that.

If we ever get from you the opportunity, willingness to listen and the space to vent, please let us. We won’t self indulge and stay there long, we’re the strong ones, it just helps us process.

We will NEVER call YOU in the middle of the night, that has not been OUR role. WE get the calls. So, if you know something has just gone down, like a death or a huge loss, firing, humiliation, fight, whatever….call us.

If I cry, let me. I promise, it’s not the end of the world.
Don’t try to get me to stop, or tell me I’m overreacting.
I can assure you, I’m not.

People HATE to see strong people vulnerable. It scares the fuck out of them.

I KNOW several of my love affairs have ended because I showed vulnerability and upset the dynamics of the relationship. I was supposed to be the “strong one.
”
If you’re one of the the strong ones, you’re welcome; and…..email this to all your friends and family, because they are at a loss as to how to handle you.

If you know a strong one, please take this to heart.

You strong ones, do you have anything to add?
What helps you?
Do you have a strong one around you? Did this help you to understand how to navigate them better?

I’d love to hear about what YOU think.
Much love, 
Xox

Wanna Make God Laugh?

Turn to her when you’ve exhausted every other option.

When science and medicine can’t find the cure.

When all YOUR best efforts have hit the skids.

When you’re struggling with addiction, depression or grief.

Why is it, that when all else fails we say: Well, NOW it’s in God’s hands.

Maybe… it could have been handed over in the first place.
At the start.

I’m guessing that the Energy that creates worlds and David Beckham, can help us with our dilemmas.

How about you?

BTW: She’s not laughing AT us, She just thinks we’re a hoot.

Big Hugs,

*I also wanted to give a shout out and express my deepest gratitude to all the countries who have become part of my tribe.
This is a snapshot of the global reach this simple blog has had for the week so far.
Isn’t that CRAZY!?
If you ask yourself, I’m only one person, what can one person do? Here’s your answer.
Thank you Mauritania, Kuwait and Algeria, you’re new viewers this week. Welcome.
I LOVE you all SO MUCH! Thank you!
xox

United States 1,358
Philippines 95
United Kingdom 45
Australia 25
Canada 23
Sri Lanka 10
France 9
Brazil 8
Ireland 7
Kuwait 7
Saudi Arabia 7
Bangladesh 5
Pakistan 5
Germany 5
United Arab Emirates 5
Russian Federation 4
South Africa 4
Guatemala 4
Mauritania 3
India 3
Portugal 2
Italy 2
Algeria 2
Greece 2
Mexico 2
Poland 2
Switzerland 1
Sweden 1
Luxembourg 1
Norway 1
Netherlands 1
Iceland 1
Indonesia 1
Venezuela 1
Turkey 1
Romania 1
Japan 1
Colombia 1
Liberia 1
Morocco 1
Kenya 1
Malaysia 1
Austria 1

“Except for the things we did wrong, we did everything right.”
~Will McAvoy The Newsroom

Bravo Aaron Sorkin. I LOVE that line.

I was re-watching last season’s episodes of The Newsroom. I have to do that to get reacquainted with the characters and story line for the upcoming season.
Oh fuck it. Who am I kidding, I have to do it because the dialogue is so rapid fire and smart, that if I blink or chew or fail to focus one hundred percent of my attention on it, I’m lost.

I’m IN LOVE with that particular piece of dialogue because that’s how I feel.

About all of us.

Except for the things we did wrong, we did everything right.

We really are doing okay. 
Better than okay, but I can already feel you bristling, so I’ll stick with okay.

I know. It doesn’t feel like it sometimes.

Hey, except for the things we did wrong, we did everything right.

We’re all doing better than we think.

Listen, we show up everyday.
Our feet hit the floor and with some manner of enthusiasm.
We enter the arena.
We have neither Tom Cruise levels of couch jumping excitement, nor are we living under a bridge with trolls.
We are gamely in the game.
Whatever that means. You know what I mean.

We have shelter and something to eat.
You know how I know that?
Because we have a high speed internet connection, and in the survival handbook, that is third after shelter and food.

We have remorse for those things we did wrong.
Now our job is not to wear it like an anchor around our necks.

We are literate and educated.
I’m taking a leap here, but I feel pretty confident about that.

We’ve all dialed back our inner Neanderthal, serial killer.
We have been able to sidestep prison up until now. If you are incarcerated, tell me about it in the comments below. 

We have our humor.
That I know because you keep checking in each day to see what kind of an ass I’ve made out of myself. Or, what crazy vomit, note burning, vagina checking I’ve been up to lately.
Some of your emails just have Bahahahaha in the subject line.

We are all doing the best we can.
We are judging and criticizing less. We are meditating and attending to our yoga practice and our oral hygiene. I really can’t ask more from you than that.
Maybe cut your toenails?

You know you’re not alone.
Not in your hopes and dreams and not in your various neurosis. If you’ve read this blog for any length of time you should feel extremely reassured.
And incredibly normal.

We’re living responsible lives.
The bills get paid, the kids aren’t dead, the pets aren’t dead, the fish isn’t……

You’re striving to improve yourselves.
This is a spiritual blog at its core, so you’re reading and implementing any and all advise you glean from these pages (Indulge me here).
And, I’m intuitive so I KNOW you are all loving and kind people walking through the world, striving to live your purpose.
Aren’t I good? It’s a talent.

In closing: Except for the things we did wrong, we did everything right.

You’re welcome,

Amen.

Love yoooooooou!
Xox

You can only write me a comment if you’re currently in prison…

“When a woman rises up in glory, her energy is magnetic and her sense of possibility contagious.”
― Marianne Williamson, Woman’s Worth

That’s just so beautiful, so powerful and was SO freakin’ hard for me to learn.

I’ve been feeling SO incredibly proud of women these days.
In our groups, the Wednesday group, the Divine Feminine and others, we are reinforcing our connection to each other.

Women Empowering Women.

Shit! Talking about Marianne Williamson, she just ran for congress and Hillary may have a good shot at the presidency.
We are “in the arena” as Brene Brown would say.
Boy, are we ever!

This post is about the power of the feminine. 
Sorry guys.
The word vagina may even be bandied about.
You can either celebrate us, or take your balls and go home. ;-). I can say that because, for many years, my boss and everyone around me, swore I “had a pair.”

I kicked ass in a predominately male oriented business.
I was a fierce and ferocious negotiator. I could go toe to toe with the most grizzled, experienced diamond dealer, and he would finally call UNCLE, pay MY price and walk away, balls in hand.

Men were terrified of me.
I was all lipstick and lashes, but that was just to disarm them; then I’d go in for the kill.

BALL BUSTER was my middle name.

I used to swell with pride when I heard that. That was my admission to the boys club, whose glass ceiling I was determined to shatter.

I was also the enforcer.
Men would get that damp upper lip and lower their eyes when they saw me walk up to their booths at shows, to collect on their past due accounts.
They knew I would stand there until they provided me either a check or a credit card number. No excuses accepted.

I was not well liked. But that was alright by me. I was respected and I didn’t care if people liked me, I was there to do my job. To make money.
In our unspoken, boss/employee, good cop/bad cop routine, I was happy to take the fall.

That did not bode well for my romantic life.
I was killing it at the store, but it was crickets in the bedroom.
Great quality men have since told that they were intimidated by me. Flirting was OUT. OF. THE. QUESTION. too vulnerable. (which is hilarious, because now, I LOVE to flirt; just try to stop me)

In my world, surrounded by a sea of men…NOT ONE ever asked me out. In almost twenty years, I never dated anyone in the business.
I dated younger men because they didn’t mind my tough exterior. For some reason, I didn’t scare them.

They did all have one thing in common, every one of them had an extremely well-developed feminine side. WAAAAAAY more than me.

I actually learned a thing or two about sensitivity from them.
THAT is the kind of man who is attracted to a woman who has a highly developed masculine side.
Makes sense…

After living my thirties as a man……

I decided to soften up. To feminize.

At first it felt fake and contrived. I wore my vulnerability like a straight jacket. One size does not fit all. And, I felt like a weak suck; but I was determined to “fake it until I could make it”
Often I went overboard, as you tend to do before you swing back to the center. I know I did. Thank God there was no social media around then to capture any of that shit for posterity.

I took numerous seminars.
I drummed and chanted in all female prayer circles and sweat lodges. I laughed, cried and divulged all my secrets at weekend retreats in Big Sur.
At one evening class that was recommended by a “friend”; twelve strangers practiced nude hot yoga and were then given hand mirrors to go into a tent to look at our vagina, and report back our observations. A minor detail this friend had omitted from her endorsement of the class.

I’m pleased to report, contrary to popular belief, that NO balls reside between these legs.

For the love of all things holy……There I sat, in our discussion circle, naked and in full “church laugh” mode, (silent, with just my shoulders violently shaking) thinking this had to be, hands down, the craziest night I’d ever spent, and what a great cocktail party story this was going to make.

That is, until two women who were rape survivors spoke. That was one of those moments.

It was the start my deep ADMIRATION of women.

Year after year, my studies continued. I read SO many great and enlightening books about getting in touch with my inner Goddess. The Red Tent by Anita Diamant was one of my favorites, I read it three times….in a row.

With time, I began to soften my approach, my tone, my hair color, my clothes, EVERYTHING.
Slowly, l let my guard down. I learned to smile and even laugh at work. I have Sally and Steph to thank for that.

“A queen is wise. She has earned her serenity, not having had it bestowed on her but having passed her tests.
She has suffered and grown more beautiful because of it.
She has proved she can hold her kingdom together. She has become its vision.
She cares deeply about something bigger than herself. She rules with authentic power.”
-Marianne Williamson

Authentic power is rooted in collaboration, compromise and kindness.
The wise woman, the Queen, has authentic power. The princess, not so much.

That was the problem, I was still a girl…whose misguided thinking…led her to try to be a man.

What struggles have you felt trying to balance your male and female? What helped you to find that balance?
Please join the conversation, I’d LOVE some of your insights.

With love,
Xox

My dad.
The enigma.

He passed in his late sixties from cancer in 2005.
Too young.

For most of my adult life we maintained an uneasy truce, where we agreed to disagree on pretty much everything.

He got a kick out of me and my sister when we were small and sang our camp songs, and wore our hair in “piggy tails.”
I loved to make him laugh.

He expected good grades, clean rooms, and no sass.
Oh well, two out of three.

His blood runs through my veins, so I know that’s where I got my work ethic, ability to fix stuff, love of science fiction, his colossal sweet tooth, temper, love of cars and driving, his goofiness, skinny legs, boney feet, blue eyes, control issues, and lack of respect for authority, and tolerance for stupid people.

I actually feel him more and have a better relationship with him now that he’s on the other side. It’s just the two of us, so it’s so much less complicated.
From that perspective, he “gets” me.

Happy Father’s Day Dad! Love you.

Xox

RESILIENT
re·sil·ient
adjective
(of a substance or object) able to recoil or spring back into shape after bending, stretching, or being compressed.
synonyms: flexible, pliable, supple

The world around us is moving at a breakneck pace. It’s becoming a colossal challenge to stay current; to keep up.

It seemed like, in the “good old days”, you could count on the solid footing that the status quo provided.
Those days are gone for good, and it’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Many, many of the changes are for the better.

I just get nostalgic for some of the things that have gone the way of the rotary phone and Drive In movies.

I remember my dad grumbling under his breath, about the price of gas during the 1970’s gas crisis, when it had the audacity to hedge closer and closer to the one dollar a gallon marker. He was crestfallen when suddenly there was no attendant to check his oil and tire pressure and wash his windshield.
Shit, he even had to pump his OWN GAS!

It was hard for me to understand his consternation, hey, this was progress, after all.

But now I totally get it.
For the life of him, he could have never imagined something that had been 17 cents a gallon his whole life, would EVER cost him a dollar.
Un fathomable.

What about the days when we had one, MAYBE two telephones, connected by wires TO. THE. WALL. in our homes. You had to stand in one place while you held a conversation, and sometimes (gasp) it just rang and rang, with no answer machine to take a message.

Deep philosophical question alert: If a phone rings (in the forrest) and no one answers, and no message is left….. did the call actually occur?

However did we manage to live life?

My girlfriend and I were lamenting the fact that we aren’t ever alone anymore.
Like an ever present stalker, our cell phones lurk nearby, keeping us connected to the world, whether we want to be….or not.
Try unplugging for a day. It is harder to kick than crack cocaine.

I for one, do appreciate all the new technological advances in the last twenty years.
I love laser printers, smart phone cameras, texting, fax machines, email, my iPad, the ability to buy virtually ANYTHING from my bed, in my pajamas, at 2:30 in the morning.
I have worked hard at becoming resilient to change.

But here’s the thing. I need to mourn some of my favorite things that have been lost along the way.

I miss the Borders Bookstore on La Cienega. I loved being a single loser and losing myself with all the other single losers on Saturday nights.
We would purchase our pre-requisite coffees at the coffee counter,(which were pretty descent) and proceed to roam the self help aisle. I’d eventually make my way to the music section (that was the cool thing, they had a music section) where the cute hipster guys hung out.
Then, as I left, I’d grab a People, Vogue, and Allure magazine from their incredibly comprehensive magazine WALL.
If I felt sophisticated, or was trying to impress someone nearby, I’d add an Italian Vogue…….Ciao Borders.

I miss the neighborhood bookstores. I miss the smell. I miss Borders. I’m going to mourn it before I order from Amazon again. ( which will probably be in the next twelve minutes.)

Both my beloved high school and the place I worked for close to twenty years cease to exist. They were both destroyed by God. My high school by the 1994 earthquake and Antiquarius Antiques was burned down about six years ago.

*The former entrance to my beloved Alemany High School

Whenever I drive by either of those sites, where I lived out large chucks of my life; I feel slightly melancholy.
In my minds eye I can still picture how they USED to look.
Current reality is very different. One is a perpetual construction site and the other is just ruins inside a chain link fence.
They reconstructed the school across the street. It’s lovely…..meh.

I like to think I’m flexible, pliable, and supple (what?) to change, and I can be.
But what I think we all need to do (because I know I need to), as the world continues to whizz past us, is take a minute and mourn the loss of the things we loved that have gone bye-bye.

That will keep us stretchy and resilient.

okay, your turn. What are the places or things that have left in the name of progress? What do you need to mourn?
Tell me about them below.

xox

*That is my hubs famous Thanksgiving turkey. It is a gift to our mouths every year.

We’ve all experienced it.

That special meal made from ordinary ingredients, that makes you sit back and……well let’s face it, I’ve teared up over zucchini blossoms stuffed with ricotta cheese, and a lukewarm glass of Chianti at a cafe in Tuscany.

There’s no reasonable explanation why the line of foodies forms around the block and you can’t fanagle a reservation for thirty days.
You can’t quite put your finger on why the bread is orgasmic or the pasta is to die for.

Your Grandmother, aunt Sadie or that fancy chef obviously have a secret invisible ingredient that they add all the way through the process.
Starting at chopping the garlic and ending with the perfect application of salt and pepper
With a purse of the lips, they blow a kiss, adding LOVE to everything they make.

We’ve all seen it.

Giant, shiny black, Grand Piano on stage. It is competently played by the pianist for the orchestra or band.
Then the featured performer takes to the keys and blows the roof off the joint.
Same piano, maybe even the same song, but played with such power, such passion, such….LOVE.
It may be invisible, but the difference…..is viseral.

We’ve all heard it.

The singer that steps forward for their solo and what comes out of their mouth is an aria that sends God a love note.
Their very essence transferred onto the notes of a song. Angelic tones sent from heaven and sung with LOVE.
There is no other possible explanation.

That’s what makes what you do special.

When you leave or infuse your essence, your gooey goodness, your divine deliciousness, your LOVE, into your speaking, your writing, your cooking, anything and everything you do each day,
you enhance the experience for everyone around you.

Then it will be reflected back.

It may be applause, great material success, or a simple compliment.

Even a garden can send that love back to it’s caretaker. We call it a green thumb. It’s really just LOVE reflected back.

What is that special something that carries YOUR love out into the world? Go ahead! Brag to me, I’d LOVE to hear about it!

xox

“Human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they’re finished”
~Dan Gilbert from TED 2014

There is a young, female photographer, Chino Otsuka, who is photo shopping her current, twenty something self, into pictures from her childhood. It’s really quite remarkable. She’s able to get the shadows right and all the little details that make it absolutely seamless.

My jaw dropped when I saw them.

That got me to thinking.
Because my jaw doesn’t drop often, therefore it must trigger my brain.

As I admired Chino Otsuko’s photographs, they reminded me of an exercise I did once in a workshop.
Last Wednesday, at our Women’s group, we tried it, and it rocked.  It’s pretty powerful, and can be amazingly healing.

You go back as your present day self and sit down next to your younger self at time of turmoil or change. 
So, think about that for a minute…
What if we could visit our younger selves?
Like a visitor from the future, what would we do or say?
“Damn, you’re beautiful and your body rocks and you’re convinced you’re a fat pig.
Here’s some stock tips?
Fashion advise?
Quick, get me a scissor so I can cut off that mullet?”

Through the course of our lives, we’ve all had times of despair.
If we saw the “us” from that time, would we even recognize him or her? Would we pass her on the street and smile, or cross the street to avoid eye contact, and that dark cloud overhead?

Go back in your memory, to a dark time in your life.
How old are you? What are you wearing? Where are you? What time of day or night is it? Look around and gather intel.
Now, feel the sadness, betrayal, fear…..all of it. Really go back there.
Then remember, you’re just visiting and it’s part of the past.

Now, go and be next to “you.” Sit in the car, or on the stairs or stand on the beach.
It’s a bad time, so comfort them. Would you put your arm around them? Wipe their tears? Crack a joke?

No one could know better what you needed at that time, than you…….so do it.
After awhile, start to talk to them, the “you” from that painful time in the past.
You’ve made it through to the other side. Tell them. Give them hope. Tell them how you did it.

Say gently: This Too Shall Pass. Whisper it. Don’t make eye contact or they may slug you.

People say that potentially irritating phrase all the time for a reason……Because it’s true.

In that moment of doubt or pain, we are convinced nothing can change, or worse yet, that the change will kill us.

We’re convinced we are finished; when this is actually a journey and we are works in progress.

Don’t tell them how long it’s going to take or what collateral damage will be left in its wake.
One woman said she would have given up if she’d been told it would take ten years. She could barely stand one more minute of her pain.

Be kind and compassionate and let them know that all will be well.

THAT you know for sure, because here you are!

You didn’t die, you didn’t give up. You put one unsteady foot in front of the other in that slow march out of hell.
But look at you now.
Like a Phoenix from the ashes, you have emerged strong and brave and ready to kick ass.

It really is an interesting exercise and I suggest you give it a try.

I’d love to hear where you met your past self and what you said. Tell me about it below.

Carry On,

Xox

This is one of the beautiful, heroic, woman from our Wednesday Women’s group, about to embark on a long awaited adventure.

She’s showing me her “Maya” heart stone.
One side says: “What would Maya do?” And the other side says: I Am enough, which is a favorite Maya Angelou quote.

I made sure she had that heart stone to take along with her on her trip, to remind her that she is loved.

She is a perfect representation of the power of women.
She is exactly why I started the group. She has gathered her strength and courage as we watched, and we held the place for her.

Now look, there’s no stopping her!!

Love that! Love her!

Who’s next?
Do you have a challenge you want to overcome?
Want a Maya stone? Let me know.

Xox

“Daring to set boundaries is about having the courage to love ourselves, even when we risk disappointing others.” 
– Brene Brown