Chirp, Chirp

I believe it has been around six weeks or so since I last posted, and that post was my last day of work … that work. A lot has surfaced since then.

My plan was to give myself a month … a “dream month,” bought for and paid by my former place of employment through my unused four weeks of vacation, hence the month. Although it’s quite arbitrary to think that a person will come to realize all that they must within a designated time frame, having one provided a balance of practicality and creativity.

My dream month was filled with a blend of wondrous nothingness and predetermined purposes. Each morning I rose when I did, hoping to catch the wake of an early morning hour, so I could taste the sweetness of sunrise. To me, there is nothing more magical and calming as the quiet of the morning hour.

Most days, after I completed my morning journaling and cup of coffee, I summonsed by dear dogson, Charlie, and we headed out for an adventure. This part of the day was something we both looked forward to.

By 10 a.m., I would begin to feel a sadness creeping in—a mourning of sorts as another day was about to come and go. It wouldn’t hang around long; just a passing. The afternoons were always up for grabs. Some days I listened to music lying on my bed, allowing myself to be inspired. A few different creative projects were given birth because of it. Other days I cleaned and organized my house, had dates with friends, played arts and crafts, or went swimming in my aunt’s pool.

Besides the rest and relaxation of my mind, body, and spirit, a number of practical things were accomplished during this time. I planted two gardens—corn in the back yard and a bed of perennial plants in the front yard. My husband and I planted the perennial bed together, which I felt was super meaningful and symbolic. It was beautiful.

I also constructed a compost bin in the far corner of our back yard. That felt really, really good to complete.

Yoga has been a physical practice that I’ve enjoyed over the years and it has always provided me with a greater sense of balance, so I signed up for a seven-week unlimited yoga pass. It has been working wonders on my body, mind and spirit. I’ve been feeling incredibly balanced and centered. I still have a few sessions left.

Lastly, I took a four-week Memoir writing class at a local writing center. There were only four classes, one each week, so it went by really fast, but I learned a ton. Words can’t begin to capture the shift that happened in me as a writer from taking the course. It was significant and is helping me to move forward creatively. I’m really thankful.

So, this is all the stuff I’ve been doing on the surface, but honestly, I really have been spending my time living below the surface. I’ve been deconstructing beliefs and thought patters, and I’ve been excavating blocked areas within my self in order to gain a better sense of my Self. I’m not talking about pumping up my ego-self…I’m talking about reconnecting with the real me, the one who changes at all times, in all spaces, in all places, who loves and shines bright. It’s been nice to reconnect.

It’s nice to feel at home, within. It’s even better than spending time at my mom’s house.

A few questions, big and small, have been answered:

1). Do you want to work for your own company? Yes, I want to give breath to it … give it more life by utilizing all the communication skills I have learned by working with and for other people, combined with my own innate skills. This can be done in alignment with my desire for flexible and creative entrepreneurship.

2) Are you a creative person? Yes.

3). Are you allowed to find your own rhythm to living life? Yes.

4). Can you create the life you desire? Yes, by taking action each day, small or big, that’s in alignment with what I desire, and by staying present.

Some questions still remained unanswered:
1). Exactly how will you pay your bills?

2). How can I sustain this feeling of balance?

This post is the start of me coming out from my incubation. The shell has cracked. Who knows what we will find.

And So It Is Here

It’s here … my last day in the office. I’m getting ready to head out in just a few minutes.

Seven months ago when I started this blog, the reality of me stepping away from my current employment seemed untouchable. Since it has provided my husband and me a steady source of income and benefits, it felt impossible to give up. Yet, the impossible turned out to be possible and I’m letting it go, with peace, joy and gratitude in my heart.

I’m not sure what the future holds. The only thing I am sure of is that tonight, at about 5:30 p.m., I will be on my way for a summer Columbia Girls gathering (my college girlfriends). Perfect timing, right? I couldn’t have asked for a better way to transition into this next stage of my life.

My husband always tells me to not make a big deal out of the decisions I make, such as leaving this job. He says, “Decide like it’s nothing; no big deal, and move ahead. Don’t act like it’s a big deal.”

I understand his advice. It makes sense logically. There’s no need to give it more than what it is, a decision. Yet, there is an emotional and spiritual aspect to this decision that isn’t so much drawn to creating drama around it, but to honoring the passage.

Thanks for walking with me.

I look forward to sharing the events, feelings and insights that unfold over the next five months. The whole intention of this blog was to document for one year the journey of making decisions in life based on the commitment to living aligned with our innate joy and bliss. It is an experiment, a test of faith and destiny. Could it be possible to actually make decisions that don’t seem logical, but that answer the call of the spirit, and that it turns out not just being OK, but perfect, whole and complete?

It’s not about grandness, but precision.

It’s not about knowing in advance, but trusting.

Only time will tell.

Quote of the day: “The world is not interested in what we do for a living. What they are interested in is what we have to offer freely - hope, strength, love and the power to make a difference! ” —Sasha Azevedo; Entertainer

God bless.

Pushing Through

Quote of the day: “Encouragement is the oxygen of the soul.” —George M. Adams; US Representative from Kentucky

I am a walking pamphlet of anxiety. All the signs and symptoms are evident in my waking life. If you put me on the cover of the brochure, you wouldn’t need to write anything. All people would have to do is look at me and they would be educated.

It’s very uncomfortable. I don’t think it’s odd or uncommon to feel such anxiety when making a big life change, as I’m doing beginning on Friday, but it doesn’t mean that the knowing of this makes me feel any less anxious. It just gives me one word to express the 10,000 emotions I am feeling. In a nutshell, I’m feeling anxious.

The foundation to this anxiety isn’t the life change, though. It’s me not feeling grounded and centered in myself. I’ve been through enough changes, risks and adventures in life to know that it’s not so much the agent of change that is causing these feelings, but instead the place I am at, or not at, within myself. When I’m feeling grounded and in touch with my spirit, I would feel excited, alive and inspired, not this intense feeling of dread, fear and disconnect. Thankfully later today I have my last meeting with the counselor I’ve been able to see on a temporary basis since I have been working at the university. This has been one of the many great benefits to being employed by the university – free short-term counseling!

When I was on one of my soul-searching cross-country trips some years back, I had an overwhelming urge to get a tattoo on the inside of my left forearm of something that symbolized balance of the mind, body and spirit. At that stage of my life it became evident to me the importance of this balance. I recognized then how, for me, this balance was the essential truth I needed to understand in life. And, for some innate reason, I felt the need to tattoo it on my body, which I did in Black Hills, South Dakota. Right near Mount Rushmore.

The reason why I am expressing this is because for the last few entries I have been inclined to write about this need for balance, as it is the most pressing issue of all for me at this moment. And yet I haven’t been able to settle into myself as I would hope over the last few weeks. I’m not exactly sure where the resistance to do so lies, though I trust and pray that I will be able to do so once I physically, emotionally and spiritually get through this time and space of “leaving the job.”

Maybe I’m passing through the birth canal, if you will, and that can’t be comfortable for any parties involved. Hopefully in the end, everyone will be smiling and it will have been worth it.

Washing My Eyes

Quote of the day: “Perhaps our eyes need to be washed by our tears once in a while, so that we can see Life with a clearer view again.” —Alex Tan

My dear boss informed me yesterday that the office will be taking me out for a going-away-party lunch on Friday (with cocktails) and that I am to go home after the party because it doesn’t make sense to then go back to work, even though next Friday (July 9) is my official last day. I was really touched by this invitation and am looking forward to it.

So I’ve been brainstorming gift ideas to give my fellow comrades at the party. My closest friends know that I’m not really a “gift” person, meaning I’m not someone who buys “stuff” to give others. I’m more of a heartfelt, tell-you-I-love-you and appreciate-you kind of person. Thinking about Friday’s lunch has started to make this leap feel much more real, along with me filing away all the miscellaneous stuff on my desk. I continue to point out how influential the past month of busyness has affected me, and today I see clearly how detached I am from the reality of me about to step away from this office. I know there has to be way more emotion hidden beneath some layer inside of me because I am a super emotional person, and up to this point, the well has been pretty dry. I did, however, have a small breakthrough today.

I wasn’t up for exercising on my lunch break because our morning meeting ran late and by the time we ended, I was too hungry to work out. I needed to eat lunch. So instead, after I ate, I journeyed to my favorite retreat spot on campus, the University’s chapel, and picked up a cup of coffee.

Last summer I spent many, many lunch hours in the chapel reading, praying or resting. It is a beautiful, majestic space. I often prayed for the wisdom, patience and spiritual strength to make a change in my work life. And now, one year later, I’m making the change … the layer began to peal.

I thanked the chapel for holding me this past year, for allowing me to express my feelings and for giving me a space to connect with my innate holiness. I cried in gratitude.

The Delicate Art of Balance

Quote of the day: “Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.” —Helen Keller; author, lecturer, activist

Part of this “regrouping of Self” effort I’ve put into place over the past week has been to sit in silence. Oh, I forget how restful it feels to spend time alone, in the quiet, only to hear the sound of the moment. I think it’s truly the only time I am actually present. I love how you can feel the present in moments of silence. It fills me up like a delicious meal.

Another important element to this rejuvenation effort has been to spend more time in nature. Just the other day when I was spending some quite time alone my spirit was instantly drawn into memories of being on the beach in Kauai. Because it is such a special place of peace, harmony and balance for me that whenever I feel inklings of these feelings I am immediately reminded of my time there. The elements of nature are so exposed and accessible, and they always seem to spark visions and dreams for my future. Hopping on a plane and retreating to Kauai isn’t an option at this moment, so getting myself out in the beauty that surrounds me here in Central New York is a must, and has continually proved to be a necessity.

I am two weeks away from the leap and I find it ironic that before I was swept up into that crazy four-week span I was feeling calm, balanced and centered about the direction my life was taking. Even a few manifestations of creative work had appeared. Now I feel like I am slowly putting the pieces together to get me back to where I was prior to the storm. Truth to be told, there is no “going back” to how I was feeling before. It’s all about, and always is, moving forward from today with hope for balance and purpose. But I really do find it absolutely amazing how the center of our beings, though perfectly positioned in balance, can feel like a slippery slope with no grip in sight. I guess it’s all about building character … hmmm (see today’s quote).

Weathering the Storm

Quote of the day: “Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in a while, or the light won't come in.”—Alan Alda; actor, director, screenwriter

It has been a busy few weeks to say the least. I’m not into recapping the events that distracted me from writing. I am more interested in the fact that I always seem to dismiss the acts that bring me peace, balance and a feeling of connection when the business of life knocks at my door. This, to me, is critical awareness of my own patterns and behaviors that have led to repeated cycles of imbalance.

Why is it that when our to-do list lengthens our self-care list shortens? No longer does the immediate, knee-jerk answer of, “Because there is not enough time,” seem logical to me. It once did, but not anymore. It actually feels illogical to me that I would remove the rituals in my life that bring me peace and harmony in order to complete other life tasks. It’s illogical because I will have lost myself in the process of completing the tasks, which in turn will affect my experience when completing the tasks, i.e. I’ll become miserable, and potentially the outcome of the tasks. If anything is to be removed from my lists in order to get done all that I need to get done, it will be my external commitments or expectations.

This awareness of my pattern helps me to better understand how I am in the imbalanced space that I am in today; however, the real challenge is in me being able to change this pattern. Awareness is one thing, and a very important step in the process of change, but I must not stop there. The next step for me is being able to use my voice.

In looking back over the past three weeks, which included organizing the public relations, marketing and reception efforts for a benefit performance at our studio, along with coordinating our teachers and students in putting together presentations, and negotiating a new lease with our landlord, and at work getting 32 pages of content and photos to our designer, while unpacking more than 40 file cabinets at into a new filing system, I’ve realized that one way in which I could have also been a positive leader to my Self is by using my voice. What I mean by that is I could have asked for the time that I needed. More specifically, one of my daily practices that strongly influences the rest of my day is being able to sit quietly for a little bit in the morning. I could have asked my boss if I could alter my hours during those crazy weeks for me to be able to get the time that I need. Yes, she could have said no, but I just assumed that I didn’t have any options. I just assumed that I had no choices. I could have asked. I can’t help but to wonder how often I live my life according to the assumptions that I make.

I’m thankful I’ve recognized this pattern in me because I can choose to change it. Before, I don’t think I noticed the pattern.

I also realized one other important piece of my human-self puzzle during this non-writing phase, and that is I avoid writing when I am scared to feel, or in denial of, my emotions. This is a huge “Aha” moment, as Oprah would say, because I so desperately in my soul desire a life of literary art. And, it is precisely my ability to connect with my emotions that allows me to write because I am then feeling. If I’m not “feeling” life, then I have nothing to say because I am basically just living in survival mode.

However, the stress and strain was so intense that I didn’t want to feel any more than what I was feeling. I couldn’t have handled it! I needed to stay in survival mode in order TO SURVIVE! (hence why they call it survival mode).

Now, I’ve made it through … I’m on the other side. I have weathered the storm and am picking up the pieces of my Self one by one, starting with this entry.

Thank you for holding me.

Not Your Average Spring Cleaning

Quote of the day: “Be yourself. There is something that you can do better than any other. Listen to the inward voice and bravely obey that.” —Unknown Author

The “new” work has begun. I’m in my third day of a four-day movement workshop and it has been quite the experience already. I’ve completely stepped out of my comfort zone in terms of “work,” and into my artist zone. This is all new territory for me. Well, not really. I need to be honest with myself. I have been doing this work for 8 years now. It just has now evolved into a new form.

There are moments where I am completely and utterly terrified. I begin to doubt my Self, my talents, my expression. I feel consumed by the fear of failure. And then, just when the darkness is ready to seal me shut for good, I muster the strength to reach my fingers, then hands, arms, head, shoulders, chest, hips, knees and feet out from under its curse and I step freely into the unknown. I perform.

Being with my husband, who is a professional artist, for the past six years, has had a tremendous influence on me. I’ve had the privilege to witness the life of a working artist. I’ve joined him in the studios, on the stage, in the classrooms and in the media. I’ve nurtured his growth in this city and state. I’ve been his right-hand woman; there to write press releases, resumes, biographies, grant proposals, business plans, flyers, contracts and invoices; to create videos and a web site. I’ve been with him, step by step, as he’s worked, and I’ve worked, to create the dance center of his dreams.

With all this time and energy spent being his partner, I’ve had the opportunity to learn from him as an artist. I’ve watched his mannerisms, how he interacts with the public, how he presents his work, how he communicates his passion, and how he represents himself as an artist. What most impressed me when I first met him is still what impresses me the most today, and it is his professionalism … the way he trusts himself in his work and his ability to not waiver from it.

What has been my greatest challenge in being partnered with an established working artist is that I’ve never felt there was room for me to pursue my creative passions full-time. I’ve always felt stuck, needing to work the day job to bring home the benefits and steady paycheck. Because of this, I’ve dismissed my own artistic dreams and desires. I’ve compared myself to him and felt “less than,” which has discouraged me on my own artistic path. And, to be fair, though not to blame, he has discouraged me from pursuing such a path, for he has lived the struggles, the highs and lows, free from the romanticized ideology of what it means to be a working artist.

I wouldn’t be telling the whole truth about this internal conflict if I didn’t touch upon the many times I’ve wondered what my life would look like, artistically and creatively, if I hadn’t married a professional artist. Would I have recognized and accepted my creative Self sooner? Would I have developed my talents faster if I hadn’t been putting them on the back seat this whole time? Would I have taken creative risks earlier before the mound of “adult” responsibilities bestowed upon my shoulders?

Don’t get me wrong. I love my husband, and I love being married to him. It’s just that I haven’t found room for my artistic Self in our marriage over the past six years. And I haven’t found the room because I never made it a priority.

Now, it’s a priority, and thankfully, he trusts himself enough to be still as I wipe away the dust from my once adventurous, free-spirited self and reintroduce her to our lives.

Spring Cleaning: To Do List - in no particular order and still in creation

1). Resign from my office job. DONE
2). Get a pug. DONE
3). Take some time off. IN PROGRESS
4). Act on my creative inspirations with movement each day. IN PROGRESS
5). Write on a daily basis. IN PROGRESS
6). Write a book.
7). Publish the book.
8). Plant a vegetable garden.
9). Landscape front yard and back yard.
10). Paint back deck and add flower boxes.
11). Have a baby.
12). Follow my bliss - do what feels good. IN PROGRESS

Making Room For You

Quote of the day: “Finding the right work is like discovering your own soul in the world.” —Sir Thomas Moore; poet, singer

Today’s quote sums up everything I have been trying to express this week to my colleagues about my resignation. It is now out there, official news, in my office. Whew.

The passing of time is such a fascinating thing. Since January I have been writing about making a big change in my work life. I’ve been working to build up the spiritual, emotional and mental courage to resign from my current position without necessarily having an idea on what I will do for work. And now, five months later, I have verbalized my resignation to my entire office. The day has come and gone. It happened. I did it. My desire within has been spoken. It’s really happening.

What a relief.

How very cool. It feels wonderful now, even though I may be freaking out later, or maybe not.

On a synchronistic note, this week, the very same week I formally announced my departure to everyone, I received two phone calls about potential dance and drum contracts for me, not Biboti. This has never happened before, partly because I never considered my talents to be noteworthy of conducting such a workshop and also because I don’t think Biboti did either. Now, both of us immediately felt these inquiries were better suited for me and not him. Very interesting…

Soon enough my faith will be fully tested once my magic month of rest and retreat comes to an end and it becomes necessary for me to find a way to earn money. I trust in this process. It’s already happening, I think. I believe in my creative self more today than I ever have. And with this belief comes confidence in there being opportunities for me to express it as part of my work in the world.

Poop Matters

Quote of the day: “Nothing is a waste of time if you use the experience wisely.”
—Auguste Rodin; sculptor

Our dearest Charlie has had some challenges with the adjustment to our home. Well, honestly, Biboti and I are being challenged too. Most notably with our decision to not use the dog crate. Boy, was that a mistake.

Technically, Charlie has been challenging our beliefs! Talk about life lessons – our dog is breaking down myths we’ve believed as true. Who would have thought a dog could be so influential?

You see, Charlie has been raised with having to live within in a crate when people leave the house and sometimes during the night when they go to bed. Being that he’s more than 2 years old, he’s quite accustomed to this routine. But on his first night in our home, he totally and completely freaked out when we went to put him in his crate for bedtime (I only did so because I figured it was best to stay with his routine for a while before I tried to wean him off the crate life). So, since then, we hadn’t been crating him.

Let me be even more honest. Biboti and I are/were completely against the “dog crating” concept. We just can’t possibly fathom how a “being,” such as a dog, would enjoy spending its free time in a cage! It feels cruel and insensitive, and even though he’s a dog, it feels inhumane. So when he had his meltdown on the first night, it gave us good reason to dismiss using it sooner than we had planned.

We began leaving him alone for an hour or so at a time. This worked pretty good when I was still on vacation, but when I went back to work and had to also go to the studio at night, this proved to be a disaster.

It first started with us coming home to find all the throw pillows from the family room couches on the floor, including the runner and candle on the coffee table. OK, OK, we thought. He’s just being a little rambunctious. Then, the bathroom accidents became more frequent and I starting finding soiled areas within the house that I didn’t see initially. Then, last Saturday morning, when I had gone back to bed after taking him out at his usual 6:00 a.m. wake-up time to do his business, he decided to water the hardwood flooring in my bedroom and then try to clean it up with some throw pillows from my bed! But the real icing on the cake was when I came home to find Biboti’s favorite pair of sunglasses with their arms ripped off and chewed up. Yikes!

After careful consideration and hours of contemplation, I told Biboti that I think the best thing to do is to crate him when we leave the house. I just couldn’t rationalize giving him any more time to adjust while he was beginning to terrorize the house. And Charlie isn’t a terror. He’s a lover, who goes mad when he’s free to roam the downstairs of Fellows Avenue. His behavior was escalating and I could see that he felt bad about it because he would hide under the table when I would see what he had done. So, he wasn’t feeling good about it and I wasn’t feeling good about. It seemed like the right thing to do.

Our first crating test was on Sunday when we went out to dinner for Mother’s Day. We were only gone for about two hours, but when we got home, he was sleeping peacefully in his bed in the crate. He hardly made a peep when we let him out. And, each day since then, he’s just as content when we get home. Before, when we would leave him out, “free,” it would take him nearly two hours to calm down and be his normal self. Now, it doesn’t appear that he’s changed at all in our departure. We have not been crating him at night, though. At least, not yet.

The moral of the story is: What I believe to be true and free for me is not the same for others, including animals.

This may seem silly, but Charlie has shown me that my sense of freedom isn’t his. He loves the confinement of the crate. It feels comfortable to him. Sure, it may be all he’s known and a mere product of his conditioning, but it just is. His reaction to being along and not contained showed he suffered great distress, which didn’t serve him or us.

It may seem odd that I’ve used this situation with my dog as teaching tool, but I can’t help but to do so. I guess that’s part of my quirky personality. It has most affected me by making me wonder how many beliefs I feel to be true that I will offer to my children to only find that they are not true for them at all. I can only hope that I am able to accept them, as I have done so with Charlie, without doing too much damage to my kids and our relationship in the interim.

And on another life-lesson note … a few posts back I mentioned how during The Columbia Girl reunion, we discussed our issues. Well, the discussion around me was my resistance to trends … the biggest being technology. However, circling back to the dog crating, my other challenge with it beyond the “freedom” piece was that it seems unnecessary. For generations people have owned dogs without using a crate. It irks me how suddenly we all need to crate our dogs as if our history was irrelevant. This is such an issue for me … whether it be trends, or progress, or modernization. I don’t know what the exact issue is, but it all comes back to the same thing.

Maybe that’s why I married an African man who was raised in the village, following the traditions of his ancestors, but spent his formative years in the city, learning the ways of modernization. He’s a balance of both. Just what I need.

The Wisdom in Weeding

Quote of the day: “Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” —Marcus Aurelius; roman emporer

Even though my postings are becoming sparser, let me be clear it is not a sign of me losing commitment to this journey. It is just that I am in a transitory phase of the journey, like when the baby is beginning to drop and head into the birth canal (if that is even how it goes; I don’t have children yet).

My days at work are numbered. It is official. I am leaping on July 9. With this being said, there are a number of tasks I need to complete and projects I need to wrap up before I leave. I need to get a whole issue of the magazine I am in charge of done. My days are busier with this end date in sight.

It is also official that I will be leaping without a place to land, unless something drastic happens within the next 6 weeks. The Communications Manager position I had interviewed for a few weeks back decided for me that it wasn’t the direction I should take. However, I was on the university’s HR web site yesterday to inform myself on benefit information and decided to pop on over to the “Jobs” section. I don’t why I continue to do this to myself.

Well, I saw a posting for a job that would have been PERFECT for me just a few months ago. It is the ideal “office” job for me at this university, if there is such thing as an ideal office job. It is actually in alignment with my passion for one of the university’s major initiatives, and a follow-up position to one of the many meetings I had on campus. I even meet the qualification guidelines. Who knows if I’d even get an interview, but if this was the past, I would have submitted my resume within hours after discovering the posting. Yet, it is the present, and I am so close to passing on it. So close.

Actually, let me go read the posting again right now and see how I feel. It’s a new day. I’ll be right back…

OK, I’m back, and still conflicted. My feelings haven’t changed. On paper, it’s perfect – working in the public arts field with 80+ colleges, organizing regional meetings and a national conference, writing/editing publications and papers, working on grants, and most importantly, teaching a course on the initiative with the director. Wow. Could it look any better? Oh, yes, it would definitely be more money too.

Why the hesitation on my end? Why not at least apply? After months of meeting with various people and departments on campus, introducing myself and inquiring about a position such as this, why suddenly the change of heart? One of my meetings was actually with the director of this position.

Because it is still an office job … someone else’s office. The structure of my days would remain the same. There may be some flexibility that I am not aware of, but it is listed as standard university hours. I would still not be addressing the fact that I do have my own business to run, which calls me during the night hours, wondering why I don’t give it my all.

Sometime, over the past few weeks, a shift occurred within me. It was triggered by the contemplation of the Communications Manager job. As I daydreamed about taking the position, I couldn’t help but to wonder why I keep utilizing my skills for other companies and initiatives while I put my own company and initiatives on the back burner. I continued to ask myself, why do I resist working for my own company, full-time, giving it 110%?

I received an answer. It’s not just my company. It is also my husband’s and the “working together” has been and currently is my main source of resistance.

It’s not fun.

You see, it has always been his dream. I was merely the student, the administrator, the communicator, the secretary. And, within these roles, I found myself feeling resentful towards him. Not to mention I also felt unbelievably burdened because my lifestyle became daytime = job; nighttime = job; marriage = business.

I have a whole bucket of messy feelings I’ve been using to paint my experience with the dance business. My real “Aha” moment came last week when I was on vacation. I was weeding out my garden, getting it ready for planting, and I began to settle into the feeling of managing my own time. Ah. With this feeling, my spirit instantly aligned with the dance business and I began to feel joy. This is when the answer to my question arrived … I guess I wasn’t only weeding the garden.

As life would have it, later in the week my husband and I got into an argument at the studio. He was upset about something and was not fully informed on how I had handled the situation, so he jumped to conclusions and lashed out at me. I, in return, picked up my bag from under the front desk, and walked out. I refused to be spoken to in such a manner. I would never tolerate that from a boss at a day job, so there was no way I was going to tolerate it from him and he’s not my boss. Can you sense my attitude? :)

Later that evening he apologized and we entered a long discussion about our challenges in working together. There was no official resolution at the end of our conversation, but it was the first time I verbally expressed to him the root of my resistance, pulling on the day’s conflict as a perfect example of why I feel the way I feel. He listened, although it wasn’t easy for him to hear. I have never been so honest with him and myself before.

Getting back to this amazing job posting, as much as I believe it could be so right, working within the world of arts and academia, earning a larger salary, publishing papers and teaching a class – oh my! – I still can’t deny how wrong it feels. What feels right is the phone call I just received, asking if I could do a movement class with parents and their children and a dialogue session about mind/body connection. This, within less than minute, I said, “Yes! I can do that!”

Movement. I need movement…

I do have until May 10th to apply. We’ll see what happens over the next few days.

‘Til then … Aloha.

NOTE: The literal meaning of aloha is “the presence of breath” or “the breath of life.” It comes from “Alo,” meaning presence, front and face, and “ha,” meaning breath. Aloha is a way of living and treating each other with love and respect. Its deep meaning starts by teaching ourselves to love our own beings first and afterwards to spread the love to others.

The Tale of the Mighty Dog and Traveling Sister: Parts 1 & 2

The Tale of the Mighty Dog and Traveling Sister: Part 1

It has been one heck of a week. This is the longest I’ve gone without posting since I started the blog, which can be attributed to me being on vacation, bonding with my new dog and spending as much time as possible with my visiting sister.

Let me first start with my visiting sister, Jodi. She lives in Montana, which is the opposite of close to New York. Air travel to and from her state can span the entire country. Flying direct is not possible. She has actually flown more West to eventually come East. Very strange.

Jodi normally visits us once a year for a short four, five-day stay. She works in the service industry, so getting away is unpaid and trying to find someone to cover her shifts is never an easy thing to accomplish. Even though we only have her with us for a few days, it is worth it.

Because of the length of her visit, we pack a whole lot of visiting with friends and family into the mix. My sister’s wish of coming home and taking a day trip to the Adirondacks for a hike never seems to come to fruition because of all the visiting, but she accepts this fate. She enjoys the countless hours spent talking, laughing, drinking and eating with those who love her and miss her.

We almost fight over her. Well, I almost do. As cliché as this sounds, Jodi is so much more than just my sister. She is a soul sister … a dear, dear friend.

What makes my friendship with her so unique is that we have this incredible history together … our childhood. Jodi and I love to discover the deeper treasures in our lives and our Selves. We love to reflect on who we were as children and who we are today. We relish in the memories of us, and our family and friends, playing in the backyard our version of the Olympics, kickball, softball, volleyball, gymnastics, trackball, soccer, marco polo and manhunt. We laugh about our college days when those games in the backyard turned to flip cups, boat races and beer pong.

Jodi and I are only two years apart and one of the major themes to our sisterhood was the fact that we looked so much alike, twins even. When we were younger, and even into the early years in high school, people had a hard time telling us apart. Of course, Jodi and I could never see the resemblance. In my defense, I was a giant 4” taller than her! And in her defense, well, I don’t know what that was :), but I do know we used to get so mad about being seen as the same. We were somewhat in each other’s shadows.

As life happened, particularly in the early post-college years, we eventually grew more and more into our Selves, which created a healthy separation of identities. Both of us began to soul search, looking for greater meaning in our lives, yet the beauty of this was that we were able to grow together on this journey while walking on our own paths.

Shortly after Jodi graduated from college she moved to Colorado. The Rocky Mountains called her spirit and she was exuberant about living the ski life. Her bold character drove her to the West with a friend, and weeks after my graduation, I accompanied her.

She stayed in Colorado for many years, skiing, hiking, running, kayaking and working. Although my time in the Rocky Mountain state wasn’t as long as hers, we continue to share a love for high peaks, blue-bird skies and powder days.

When I lived on Kauai, Jodi came to visit me and quickly decided that the island was her next destination. One month after I left Kauai to move to NYC, she landed on the Garden Isle, hoping to heal the wounds to her soul that she endured from simply being a human. Kauai is a special place that can help us to release our personal afflictions. It had done so for me, and it eventually did so for Jodi, which then brought her to Montana.

As with every visit home, it eventually begins to wear on her, as the gifts of nature are her source of health and renewal, not constant chatter and gossip. By her last night here, she’s ready to get back to her life in the great outdoors.

I miss my sister already. Today, I say with great joy and pride that I do feel like she is my twin … the other half of me who can understand from a place like no one else my thinking and feeling. Even though we are separate, we are undeniably connected as one.

The Tale of the Mighty Dog and Traveling Sister: Part 2
My dearest Charlie … the new love of my life. He is a 2 ½-year old Pug (see photo above). I picked him up from the rescue society last Saturday, on the first day of my vacation. We drove immediately to the groomers for him to be cleaned and to have his nails clipped. While he was getting beautified, my mom (the new grandma) and I shopped around the pet store and picked up a few new gifts for Charlie: a round bed, chew toys, elephant stuffed animal, dog biscuits and food.

Charlie’s grandma began to spoil him within hours of his arrival. This was a prelude to how grandma will be when she eventually gets a human grandchild. I already told her that my kids won’t NEED 10,000 toys! She laughed and happily obliged.

After getting all clean, I placed Charlie on an old sheet in the passenger seat of my Subaru. He sat there so calm and content. I would pet him as often as I could while driving, just to keep him relaxed. I also played some great African music to get him accustomed to his new family. He seemed to like it.

When I brought Charlie into his new home on Fellows Avenue he was soooooo excited. He ran into every room and smelled every corner of every room. The only thing he wasn’t thrilled about was our stairs heading up to the second floor. He sat at the foot of them, whimpering to show his fear.

In what felt like minutes, Charlie already began to show signs of attachment to his new mama. Every where I walked, he followed. Every time I sat, he either jumped or motioned to be up on my lap. When I was at the rescue society, they showed me how he likes to be held, and yes, it is like a baby. He is a full-on lover, snuggler, be-as-close-to-a-human dog. He’s perfect.

So far, there have been two big surprises: (1) His reaction to the dog crate; (2) His reaction to men, including Biboti.

Charlie has been trained for more than 2 years now to live within the world of a crate, so I felt it was only appropriate to have one for him when he came home to keep some sense of normalcy. Personally, my hope has been to wean him off the crate because I’d like him to be an old-school dog that can be free to roam in the house WHILE staying behaved. This is how our dog was growing up, and this is what I always envisioned for my own dog.

On his first night in the house, Biboti and I were getting ready for bed, so we walked him into the back room where his crate is and motioned for him to go inside. He didn’t respond. I then gave him a little nudge on the behind to get in there and he put on his front breaks. I was shocked by his resistance. I proceeded more aggressively and placed him in there. I shut the door and Biboti and I went upstairs.

Within seconds, we could hear him whimpering.

“Let’s give him a few minutes and see what he does. He supposedly ‘loves’ his crate and is used to living in it, so he should be fine,” I said to Biboti.

He wasn’t.

After about ten minutes, the whimpering escalated to barking and since it was around midnight, we both thought it wasn’t appropriate to allow him to continue to annoy our neighbors (NOTE: barking isn’t a common thing for him, so this was alarming). We went downstairs, let him out of his crate, took him with his new round bed, blanket and elephant stuffed animal, and brought him upstairs into our bedroom. Because he was scared about staying downstairs alone, he completely forgot about how scared he was to go up the stairs, and he did, so fast, all by himself.

We first placed his round bed away from our bed, near the door. This didn’t work like we had hoped because it was still too far away from us, well, from me. Thankfully our bed is high, so he can’t just jump up on it, but he places his front paws as high as he can reach on the bed, which allows us to see just his black face. He began to do this repeatedly on my side of the bed and then would get annoyed because I would push him down, so he would go over to Biboti’s side and do the same thing. He continued this behavior for about 20 minutes.

Because our upstairs is all hardwood flooring, we could hear his little nails pitter pattering across the entire upstairs. He was traveling into the other bedroom, the bathroom, then our room, then back through the hallway … over and over. At one point, I heard what sounded like a guitar being strummed (which there is one in the other room), so I got up to see what was happening. Potty-trained Charlie had gone poopies right near the guitar because he had gotten himself so worked up.

We then got smarter. I placed his round bed and elephant stuffed animal at the bottom of our bed near my side, so he was that much closer to me. After a few more rounds of him trying to jump up on our bed, he eventually put himself to sleep in his new bed. Thank God.

This whole bedtime process took about 45 minutes. I went to sleep that night praying it would get better with each night, and thankfully, it has. On his second night, it only took 5 minutes for him to put himself to sleep in his bed, which still rests (a week later) at the foot of our bed on my side. Now, I tuck him in his bed with his blanket, so he is snug as a bug, and he falls right to sleep. He’s such a good boy.

The other big surprise was how Charlie reacts to men, and in particular, to Biboti. As I had written about before, Biboti is a fan of dogs, but not the Pug breed. He doesn’t see how cute their ugly face is and he has never spent time with one to know how their personalities can be so funny. I basically begged him to be on board with me getting one, which he was, but my only thought was about Biboti needing to fall in love with Charlie, not Charlie needing to fall in love with Biboti.

When my mom and I first brought Charlie home, Biboti was working. When he came home, he entered the house with joy and jubilation in his voice.

“Charlie, Charlie, Charlie! Helloooooo Charlie,” he said.

Charlie freaked out. He barked right in his face and actually stepped backwards, away from him. This was the FIRST time I had heard him bark (NOTE: Now, Charlie only barks when people enter the house, as if to say, “Who are you?” or “Hello!” or “I missed you” or “Stay away from my mom!”) Biboti was startled, as was Charlie. Biboti tried to pet him and Charlie coward down like a scared puppy. He continued to stay as close to me as possible.

I could see Biboti’s feelings were hurt, and then suddenly it dawned on me—

What if Charlie doesn’t like Biboti?

Yikes!

I could tell by the way Biboti welcomed him that he was completely open to loving him and it was my dear Charlie who could possibly screw this whole thing up. I began to panic, just a bit.

Little by little, Biboti began to spend more time with him. Charlie loves to be held, so Biboti picked him up and placed him on his lap. This seemed to help. Then, Biboti took him for a walk/run around the block, which Charlie loved. Progress was being made.

A week later, Charlie is still a mama’s boy, but he loves his dad too. And, Biboti loves him so much as well. He even took Charlie out this morning for his usual morning routine and fed him—always a good sign. They both seemed very content when I got out of bed.

Because I have been home for the week, we’ve taken Charlie to do just about everything. We’ve been feeling him out in different settings. We run errands with him and leave him in the car, on the front seat, but not for too long. He does really well. We had a birthday party for my mom at her house with 25 guests and Charlie was there, hanging out with all the people, like he was a member of the family for years. He was great—mellow as can be after all the male guests arrived. That always seems to prompt a bark or two. And, we’ve left him alone at home when we’ve gone to work at the studio, free to roam the downstairs. So far, so good.

Yes, Charlie is a dog, but he is my new baby. It feels so good to have him around. His presence definitely fills a void while also invoking a new found joy in my heart, soul and life.

Girlfriends and Gatherings

Quote of the day: "At the end of your life, you will never regret not having passed one more test, not winning one more verdict, or not closing one more deal. You will regret time not spent with a husband, a friend, a child, or a parent.” —Barbara Bush; Wife Of The 41st President Of The United States


It’s basically a waiting game right now. There is an unknown variable floating around the decision pool and until I have confirmation, I am patiently treading water. Although, my arms will become quite tired if I wait too long.

I had the job interview I mentioned a few postings ago. It’s a very flexible part-time job, work from home, with benefits AND I’d be making only slightly less money than I am now working half the amount of time, without being tied to an office. It’s a communications position for a company I really, really love and support. This all kind of sounds too good to be true, right? How could I even question such an opportunity?

I am … Well, in truth, they haven’t offered it to me, so I don’t see any point in contemplating the position. If they offer it to me, well, then I’ll get focused. This is the variable I am speaking of.

My spirit feels a little absent these days. I’ve been giving more energy to the practical applications in life that I’ve been slightly disconnected from my source. This is never a “good” thing. I say this not in judgment, but in honest acknowledgment of my awareness. Any time I coast along, falling astray from my center, I always seem to end up in a puddle somewhere, usually made up of my own tears.

To step back from the madness of this week, over the weekend I enjoyed another Columbia Girls retreat. There were seven of us in attendance. As usual, we indulged ourselves in much-needed girl time. The wine doesn’t pour in quantities it once did not so long ago, which can be attributed to the many new additions of little fingers and toes into our circle. Whether one’s breast feeding or simply needing to remain somewhat astute in case a situation arises that requires parental alertness, the wine intake has reduced itself to modest quantities. However, those of us who remain kid-less tend to err on the side of larger quantities, and we carry no shame in doing so.

The content of our conversations are also changing. I believe we tallied close to 15 or so moments when we were discussing poop … children’s poop. This is definitely something we never used to talk about, but is obviously a testament to the direction many of our lives have taken.

We still gab about the good ‘ole days, reflecting on the all-time classic stories from the past. But what interested me most this past weekend was our conversations about our own personal “issue.” It all started with my friend Joy …

Dearest Joy has two beautiful, healthy young children. She is not only one of the most “mothering” out of all of us, she is also one of the most book-smart. Joy is a physical therapist by trade and graduated with honors. We have always been impressed by her smarts.

She was driving her car with Noelle, me and her baby Sam in tow. After an hour or so into the road trip, Joy bursts out into a monologue about her “issue.”

NOTE: We kept the issue talk singular for the weekend, so we didn’t become too overwhelmed with our imperfections.

Anyways, she proceeded to tell us how she has an inability to finish things, or give it her all, and reach her full potential in anything that she does. She broke this issue down into small tasks, such as unpacking. Joy never completely finishes unpacking. Or, leaving a dribble of juice left in the carton. She just doesn’t finish it. Then, she discussed how this issue affects her in larger aspects, such as in college. Joy put in enough effort to achieve good grades by society’s standards, but she didn’t give it her all.

All this insight made clear to her that her pattern of not finishing things or giving them her all protects her from failing because she can always say, “Well, I didn’t really give it my best.”

Noelle and I (and Sam who was sleeping in her car seat) were caught a bit off guard with her self-analysis, but were happy to engage. Later, when we were all together in Wendi’s house, we recapped our road trip and circled back to Joy’s disclosure. It didn’t take long for all us to begin discussing our “issue.” In fact, we helped to diagnose each other’s.

Whether we’re discussing children’s poop, old drunken stories, or our issues in life, we are destined to have fun, laugh and be joyful. After gathering like this, post-college, for 11 years now, we’ve become accustomed to the “high” of the weekend and the “low” of the going home and getting back into the swing of things. Yet, it is always, I mean always, an adjustment when Monday morning arrives and the girls are gone.

It is as if our web, our safety net, has been taken away from us once again, and we must once again re-enter the world on our own.

Getting To The Mountain Top

Quote of the day: “When we talk about understanding, surely it takes place only when the mind listens completely -- the mind being your heart, your nerves, your ears- when you give your whole attention to it.” —Jiddu Krishnamurti; writer, speaker

A major milestone has been achieved today.

I told my boss I was leaping.

Even though I am still about 6 weeks out from my projected departure date, there have been significant rumblings in our department about not filling vacant positions. With this news, I felt it was only appropriate to inform my boss, so she could prepare accordingly.

I sat down in one of the two chairs placed across from her desk at 8 a.m. this morning. She was out of town yesterday, so I inquired about her travels and we laughed over a few adventures she had. After the laughter subsided, I didn’t waste any more time getting to the reason why I called the meeting. I got right to the point and told her I needed to resign at the end of May.

“What!” she said in a shocked, yet non-attacking tone.

“I know, I know,” I said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

I began to shake.

She quickly dismissed my apologies as unnecessary and immediately inquired about what I’ve been thinking and feeling. She held a comfortable, non-threatening space that allowed me to divulge many of the confusions I have in my head about my career. She sat in her chair with her forearms crossed comfortably on her desk, allowing me to explain how I’ve been merely surviving … going through the motions … doing what I need to do … without knowing where I actually am in all of it.

She listened.

After I disclosed all I had been keeping from her, she invited me to relax, helping me to end the shakiness. She then began to disclose her own personal feelings of thinking about a change in career. She did this to validate my feelings, not to make the conversation about her. It was really gentle and comforting.

Then, the conversation shifted where she began to brainstorm other options for me regarding my departure date and/or a possible change in my current work schedule to keep me on staff. They are all good options and something for me to consider. She asked I spend some time weighing them, knowing that I may stay firm with the original timeline, which is OK.

As the conversation came to a close, she stood up from her desk, walked out from behind it, and gave me a big, huge hug.

I have never been more relieved in my life.

Thank you, Dearest God, Greatest Spirit, Creator of All, for blessing me with such a peaceful and supportive exchange. May today’s summit be the beginning of an ever greater journey into the unknown.

Time To Put The Big Girl Panties On

Quote of the day: “Thoughts lead on to purposes; purposes go forth in action; actions form habits; habits decide character; and character fixes our destiny.” —Tyron Edwards; theologian

Yesterday was a whirlwind. I didn’t even have a minute to blog. From the time I left the house in the morning until I returned in the evening around 9 p.m., it was just non-stop. The studio needs this week have been greater than usual, as well as the need for me to attend community meetings in the evenings. Plus, I’ve begun to inquire about “affordable” insurance plans for my husband and me to purchase since we’ll be losing our insurance coverage once I make the leap.

I quote the word affordable because it is absolutely ridiculous how these companies state that in their literature. It’s such a joke. Either the deductibles are insane or the monthly payments are exorbitant. You’re screwed either way, whether you have insurance or you don’t.

For example, I just found out this week that the mouth impression I am supposed to get made for me to wear during the night while I am sleeping to help with my TMJ is not going to be covered by the dental insurance that I do have now through the university, which is pretty good insurance. I even pay for the more “comprehensive” dental package. Get this: they told me that they would pay for 50% of the actual mouth piece, but would not pay for the x-rays and other tests required for my dentist to figure out how to create the mouth piece, which will cost me over $300. The mouth piece can run around $1000, so that will cost me $500. I pay around $80 month. So, for the year, I’ve paid them about $960. With the insurance coverage, I have to still pay an extra $800, so my total insurance and out-of-pocket costs are now $1760. If I didn’t have insurance, my total costs would be $1300. Hmm...

Neither is really affordable and none of it makes sense.

I also love how the meaning of the word affordable changes when a profitable company uses it. It is all relative. Try to have a low-income family use the word affordable when putting together rates for a plan and you'd see a drastic decrease in what would be considered affordable.

Enough of the rambling…the point is everything is getting all too real and clear these days about me leaping. In yesterday’s staff meeting at work, I realized I need to inform my boss sooner than I anticipated. That stressed me out, but it is the reality and needs to happen. I plan on speaking with her next week. I am petrified. I just care about her and feel bad about leaving her with the hassle of filling a position, if the administration even allows her to fill it. This is why I need to tell her sooner than later. For her to be prepared.

My mother also brought to my attention a very, very important detail that I had overlooked about the leap.

NOTE: I hadn't disclosed any of my intentions about leaping to my mother because it would merely stress her out, and frankly, stress me out. I love her dearly, but having faith in finding and creating purposeful work for oneself isn’t really her strong suit.

The only reason why I disclosed this information to her was because she started questioning me on the dog commitment, noting that I am never home, which is a valid argument. But, I will be more, soon, and I could not tell her that piece of information because it changes everything. Thankfully, she didn’t harbor on it when I asked her to not be concerned because I am working on finding a solution.

Although yesterday, she brought up a very good point, which is why we probably should always tell our mothers the truth in what’s going on for us. They tend to think of details we may overlook. In August, our car lease is up and we’ll need to sign a new one. Since we are a one-car family, this car is important. My mom enlightened me to the fact that we better turn in the car early and sign a new lease BEFORE I leap or else we won’t be able to get the loan.

Very, very good point. Thank God for moms.

Even with all these LATs (Life Administrative Tasks) coming to the forefront this week, I’m still feeling confident, hopeful and joyful for the choices I am making. Even though they say, “The devil is in the details,” I feel like the devil is actually in me doing nothing about the current state of my life. Action is key, even if it comes with the headache of deductibles, co-pays and cars loans.

Change Has Come

Quote of the day: “The vision that you glorify in your mind, the ideal that you enthrone in your heart - this you will build your life by, and this you will become.” —James Allen; philosophical writer, poet

A few weeks ago I blogged that I applied for a job I saw advertised in the Sunday classifieds and that I wasn’t sure what got into me. Anyways, I was contacted for an interview. I am very appreciative of the opportunity to learn more about the position and I look forward to connecting with the people during the interview. However, I am actually witnessing myself changing as a result of this journey I began three months ago and it’s pretty cool.

Side note: The journey didn’t really start in January. It started lifetimes ago, but you know what I mean.

The sort of changes I am referring to are my reactions. Although I am excited to learn more about this opportunity, I don’t feel desperate to take it, out of control or needy, even though I know I will be jobless (on purpose) in just over a month. I actually feel this sense of ease and confidence, not fear of the unknown. To be honest, I feel more of a sense of relief! And I don’t feel an intense level of pressure to know right now. All that I do know is I need to take some time to retreat, reflect and rejuvenate before I can know.

It’s as if I am becoming grounded in a completely new way … in a way that I have dreamt of, hoped for and wished to be true for this stage of my life.

First, with the major leap in my career life into the abyss and now with the major leap to become a dog owner in my personal life, I am at the beginning stages of living in alignment with my deepest desires.

This is cool. Very cool.

On the downside, as I become less stressed about the job situation, I see my husband becoming more. My heart aches for him. I know he feels a greater burden and my hope isn’t for this to be so. I would never wish for my joy to create more pain for him.

How the intertwining of lives creates this ebb and flow…ying and yang…

So it is.

Furry, Cuddly, And All Mine

Quote of the day: “At the end of your life, you will never regret not having passed one more test, not winning one more verdict, or not closing one more deal. You will regret time not spent with a husband, a friend, a child, or a parent.” —Barbara Bush; Wife Of The 41st President Of The United States

There were significant chapters opened and closed from Friday until today. I feel like a lot has happened in such a short amount of time, but life always seems to roll like that.

Last Friday, our second family pet had to be put to sleep. He was technically my mom’s cat, but we all just loved him so much. She adopted him when he was a kitty and all of us kids were either in college or newly out of college. He was adorable and one of the most friendly, loving cats I’ve ever met. He acted similarly to a dog where he would come when you would call his name and jump up on your lap to be petted. He also weighed about 25 pounds, so he was one big cat!

His legal name was Dublin, but we all called him “Big Kitty.” It seemed to fit him.

After 14 or so years, he became ill and was ready to pass. Thankfully my brother was home and able to go with my mom to the vet’s to help with the transition. I felt so bad for my mom and brother. Both of them felt the heaviest load of grief.

So on Friday evening, after all was said and done, I spent the night at my mom’s, sitting around talking about Big Kitty and how much we’ll miss him. She was tempted to go right out and get another cat that day, but she didn’t. Although my father truly loved Big Kitty, he’s ready for their house to be animal-free, especially since he’ll be retiring by the end of next year. My mom understands this thought process with her head, but her heart yearns for another pet to love and care for.

Stepping aside from this topic for a moment, which we’ll get back to, one of my favorite breeds of dog are Pugs. I just love their personalities. I had the privilege to live with one in my early twenties that was my roommate’s dog. His name was Sammy. Oh, how I loved Sammy. He was a wonderful friend.

Anyways, I have never owned my own dog. We had a dog growing up, but of course my mom mostly took care of him. I have never been solely responsible for a dog. I have never been the “mom,” but I knew I always wanted to be a dog owner, though I just didn’t know when that would be. I loved dogs too much to just get one when I my lifestyle wasn’t appropriate for one. So, I’ve been waiting. Waiting for the right time to commit. Waiting for me to be settled enough. Waiting, for now.

More than a year ago, I sent in an application to the Pug Rescue Society of CNY. I began to feel the time was coming. Months passed and I didn’t hear anything from them about available pugs, so I just thought the timing must not be right. Then, Monday of last week, I got the urge to check their web site to see if they had any to adopt, and much to my surprise, there were a few new arrivals displayed right on the home page! I immediately called and asked if I could come and meet the dogs. She said, “Of course!”

I kept this news to myself. My husband isn’t the biggest fan of the breed, so I’ve always known that if I was really serious about getting a pug, it would take me convincing him. Or, begging him.

Last week was a difficult week, as my postings displayed, so I merely trucked along with each day, until Friday. Friday I felt a little better until the news of Big Kitty’s passing. Suddenly, the timing seemed right. On Sunday I went with my friend Jill to visit the dogs. Out of the three that they had for adoption, only one is the dog for me. He is perfect. His name is Charlie.

And just like that, I went home, bore my soul to my husband, pleading for his approval, and he thankfully obliged.

Because of some logistical reasons, I won’t be bringing him home until Friday, April 23. I have the next two weeks to get the house all ready for him. I’m so excited.

Last night I smiled myself to sleep, really. And it was the first time in as long as I can remember that I couldn’t wait for the morning to come because tonight we are going to visit again.

All for the love of an animal who I’ve yet to know.

It feels so good.

Slow and Steady

Quote of the day: “Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.” —John Muir; naturalist, author

Today I have been creating my first “writing/editing” resume and have been putting together some samples for a meeting I have tomorrow. I finally have a finely tuned Communications resume, but it’s too generic for a writing job. Anyways, tomorrow I am connecting with the editor of a campus publication, which I love and have always admired, to introduce myself and my work for potential freelance opportunities with this publication. They work with freelancers on a limited basis, but I would fully embrace their limitations :).

As I’ve been sifting through my writing samples, it has been healing to read some of my past work. I used to write a column titled, “Living Well,” in a newsletter, which ran four hard-copy issues before it went electronic. I spent some time this morning looking over the columns and it was fascinating to read my words on “wellness of Self” back at me. Because of the deflated state I’ve been in, it almost felt like I was reading the words of a stranger…a livelier, more balanced and spiritually fulfilled person than I. But yet, it was me who had written those uplifting and honest words. The best of me.

Thankfully, the feeling of a stranger lasted only for a moment, and with much grace and ease I began to feel my Self again as the voice of my written word gave breath to a sleeping beauty. She has yet to fully awaken, but at least I can feel her beginning to show signs of life. It’s a slow process, always, transitioning from the fatigue. As with hiking, which I love, you don’t just suddenly get to the peak. It requires multiple steps and tremendous patience and perseverance.

Today, I have made it not only to the trailhead, but past it. I have begun the ascent, though I have a feeling I will be resting in a lean-to fairly soon. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself where I burn out on the rock face, fall and hurt myself.

Little by little.

Thanks for all your love from yesterday’s exposure. It's amazing how disclosing my emotions always helps me to move forward. Last night I managed to put away two baskets of laundry, the dishes in the dish rack and follow up on six items on my dance centre to-do list. That was an accomplishment for me, but not as significant of an accomplishment as me being honest with how I feel, free from shame and the judgment of others.

Truth Hurts, Sometimes

Quote of the day: “Live your life from your heart. Share from your heart. And your story will touch and heal people's souls.” —Melody Beattie; author, journalist

I was telling my friend Linda yesterday that I had attempted to craft my daily blog entry, but I just couldn’t do it. I had nothing…zip, zilch, nada. Well, nothing positive. I felt a slight recovery from Monday’s holiday hangover, but not enough to get me going. My energy has been so low and I feel so fatigued that I couldn’t even begin to put a sentence together.

So last night, after teaching my dance and drum classes, which made me feel spectacular, I began to ask myself why it is all well and good to blog when I am feeling hopeful and positive, but not when I am sad, angry, fatigued and depressed? If the whole purpose of this experiment is to document the process of following one’s faith and destiny, then wouldn’t it make sense to include ALL of the journey, not just the feel-good stretches?

Over the past few months of blogging I have included some low moments, so it wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary for me to do so. But this feeling is different. I’ve been wanting to escape…to softly and silently drift away…to disappear.

When you feel like disappearing, the last thing you want to do is give voice to it. That would actually be the antithesis of disappearing for me because giving voice to my feeling helps me to be present. When I want to disappear, I’m looking to avoid the present.

My short-lived life has taught me that “this too shall pass.” That what I really need to do is rest and retreat, spiritually, but who am I to need rest. I’m not fighting a war, or raising children, or saving lives. So, again, who am I to need rest?

I can berate myself all I want, but it won’t help. I don’t feel any closer to pulling myself up by my boot straps merely because I’ve attempted to shame myself into doing so. In fact, it makes me feel even more like a loser.

Where are the people who simply struggle with the tasks of everyday life? Where are the people who just can’t put the clothes they wear that day away, or the basket of clean laundry in their rightful place, or the dishes in the dish drain in the cupboard, or the piles of random papers and mail on their dining room table where they should be, or the 10,000 pairs of shoes in front of the front door in their respective closets? Am I the only one? Am I the only one who cannot stay on top of her life administrative tasks?

They never end these tasks. You wash the dishes from dinner only to find them dirty again the next day. You hang up your pile of clothes only to remove them and be burdened once again with their placement. They never, ever, end.

Depressed? Yes. Does it hurt? Yes. I hate those “Cymbalta” depression commercials on TV because they make me feel bad just watching them. If you’ve ever struggled with depression, you know how bad it sucks. And, medication sometimes is and isn’t the best solution. I know for me, it’s not.

I haven’t even touched on the shame, guilt and anxiety I am feeling about all the work that needs to be done for our dance studio that I can’t even begin to do. I feel like it’s slipping away from me and that’s scaring me.

I have in fact already disappeared. I am here in body, but not in spirit. I am off floating around somewhere in the ether. If anyone who reads this is a viewer of the TV show “LOST,” I have left the alternate reality and am dangling in the timeline on the island.

I’ll leave it at that.

Holiday Hangover

Quote of the day: “People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.” —Audrey Hepburn; actress, humanitarian

Amen, to today’s quote. Yes, people do need all of those “R”s and I’m one of them.

This long weekend was a spectacular introduction to spring. The extra day off was pleasant and the good weather was plentiful. I enjoyed many hours sitting, biking and walking under the sun, in the warm air. I felt a sense of renewal and rejuvenation.

Now, Monday has hit and the renewal has flown right out the window. Sunday’s joyous day of family, food and wine leaves me sitting at my desk, staring at the computer with a big fat holiday hangover. Oh yes, holiday hangovers are much different than the usual drinking-too-much hangover. Holiday hangovers involve more than the obvious ingredient of alcohol. They also include a large dose of family hoopla coupled with a grand overconsumption of food and desserts. While all of these ingredients are great, they are sure to create a hangover of some sort.

Note to self: The day AFTER a holiday is the most important day to take off.

Never A Dull Moment

Luckily spirit did move me once we sat down to chat, and I left her office an hour later. It was a reflective conversation. At first, she asked me what I was interested in doing, and just like that, I began expressing thoughts and ideas I hadn’t really formed or expressed externally. In a matter of moments, I was presenting myself as a presenter of mind/body/spirit workshops with and not with dance.

Hmmm. How did that happen?

All I know is that my spirit must have been present because my rational self would have never said that. I did notice my rational self jump in the conversation at one point when she mentioned a job opportunity in her department. Although it didn’t necessarily speak directly to my areas of interest, I heard myself make a comment about my “openness to all opportunities.” Even though this statement is very true, if I am being honest, I said it because I got scared…scared of positioning myself solely as an artist.

The conversation about my interests ended after 20 minutes and it seamlessly transitioned into discussing her life path. It was incredible. She is a very open and honest woman, much like myself, so basically, we just shot the shit. I asked her how she got to where she is today, and with a smile of her face, she said, “A lot of luck.”

For the next forty minutes we discussed some of the ups, downs, twists and turns in her life. It was captivating. Her energy and enthusiasm for life were infectious. My favorite part of our conversation was when I asked her if she had ever “leaped” and she said, “All the time! I always take risks.”

I loved that.

Working Girl

Quote of the day: “Rejoice in the things that are present; all else is beyond thee.” —Michel de Montaigne; Essayist, Author

I’m off for another on-campus meeting in a new department. This is my fourth since February. I’m simply trying to personally interact with different areas on campus that are of interest to me, and the woman I met with on my second meeting suggested I make this appointment.

I had applied for countless jobs within other departments and couldn’t even get an interview until the last one. I understand everyone struggles with “getting employers to look past the resume,” which is why I’m seeking out face-to-face time.

One of the many fringe benefits of working at this university is the short-term counseling that’s available to staff. It’s part of the employee assistance program. Like with the rest of our benefits, I’ve taken full advantage of it. To me, one of the greatest joys in life is being to talk with an unbiased person openly and honestly about my feelings, thoughts, hopes and concerns. And on the flip side, I thoroughly enjoy being on the other end of the conversation for others. We NEED to express ourselves like we need to drink water.

That’s two days now I’ve written similes regarding water. Hmm. I must be thirsty.

One of the suggestions the counselor made to me more than a year ago was to identify the departments on campus that were of interest to me and to schedule meetings with the heads to introduce myself. She believed my in-person energy would be the difference maker in me finding new and creative work within the university setting. I appreciated this suggestion and thought it was a good idea, but for some reason I wasn't ready to act on it then. Now, I guess I am ... all in due time.

Anyways, I’ve thrown any expectations I could have for this meeting out the window. It all feels quite anti-climatic, actually. I kind of feel like I’m just going through the motions, which I wouldn’t think is the best space to be in when you’re about to meet with a prestigious administrator. Hopefully spirit will move me when I sit down face to face with her.

Wish me luck!

Not Wasting a Minute of Sleep Time

Quote of the day: “Hold fast to dreams. For if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.” —James Langston Hughes; poet, novelist

I applied for a job today. I don’t know what got into me.

When I read the Sunday newspaper I always glance at the Classifieds. Most of the time I’m not actually looking for job, though I always feel like “you never know!” So, on Sunday, when I was doing my usual glancing, a posting caught my eye. Words like communications, manager, part-time, flexible schedule and benefits pulled me in, not to mention the name of the company. I know the company. I’ve worked for the company. I’m actually a huge fan of the company. So, I thought to myself, “Why not?”

Do I want this job? I don’t know, but I don’t have to know to apply.

So I did. I sent in all my stuff this morning. I should know by the end of next week if I’ll be called in for an interview. Hmmm.

Getting up in the morning is getting harder and harder. I’m sleeping later and later. My husband and I were both laughing at me this morning because I am waking up so late now for work that I literally am giving myself less than 30 minutes to shower, get ready and BE at work. Poor guy. He doesn't know if he should wake me for fear that I won't ever get up, or if he should just let me be in this space of awfully late wake-ups. You’d think I was still in college, sleeping until the very last minute possible before class starts. I was laughing at myself because it’s actually pretty terrible. I say that with love.

I know it is just a matter of weeks before I make the leap. Time is passing and the countdown has begun. I find it odd how I am feeling less anxious today about the leap than I was back in February. As I get closer, I feel more relieved, not fearful. I still don’t have any concrete plans to earn income, but that’s part of the journey…the project. It will work itself out. Until it doesn’t.

Reflection

Quote of the day: “Friendship, love, health, energy, enthusiasm, and joy are the things that make life worth living and exploring.” —Denise Austin; fitness instructor, columnist

It has been a week since my last post. This isn’t neglect, but a reflection of what my schedule has been like since then. I was immersed in March Madness on every level. We hosted the “Sweet Sixteen” and “Elite Eight” games, which is a huge undertaking. The amount of paid staff, volunteer staff, media members, coordination, and communication that’s required to pull off such an event is tremendous. Even though our office had been preparing for months for this event, our official duties began Tuesday evening and concluded on Saturday evening, which technically led into the early hours on Sunday.

It was a lot of fun. I’ve always been a fan of changing routine and scenery, both of which I was able to do last week. My hours were different, my surroundings were different and my responsibilities were different. Even though we all worked around the clock, I felt like the last four days were a vacation—a retreat from the monotony of everyday life. It was fantastic.

I love change. I love spontaneity. I love being up and about, moving all day. I love all of this because I don’t have any of it during my current workday. It’s obviously out of balance.

I learned so much about myself this week. There were some promising moments of reflection. I witnessed an energy in me come to life. It was my sport energy—my athlete self. Sure, I work in athletics every day, but this was different. I was fully immersed in the event. I wasn’t going to the dance studio at night, living between two worlds and selves. I was working in a sporting arena for hours on end, surrounded by thousands of sport folks. There was no energy in me coming to life beyond the athlete. She took over.

It was interesting. I had a lot of fun. I keep repeating that statement, which I believe is significant. Life as I knew it before the mid-college, identity crisis years was all about fun … the fun of sports. I lived and breathed sports. My complete identity was tied up in whatever sport I was playing. There was no separation. Life was the game and the game was life. This experience was all fine and good until life changed and sports changed, and it wasn’t good anymore.

I’ve been lost ever since.

As I write the statement above, I do not believe it literally. What I believe is that I haven’t had an identity since then, and that is what has been lost, but I’m not saying that I need one. It was comfortable living in the box of an athlete, until I wasn’t anymore and I was forced to wake up to life. Sports allowed me to nurture and release aggression, strength, competition, drive, focus and determination. It gave me purpose and became a channel for my passions.

Being involved in the event this week I felt like a teenager again—my old self. My disposition changed. I acted more aggressively, became fully vested in competition, was enamored by athletes, and wanted to hang out and party. It was like high school again.

And then I would go home, into my house where everything feels very different than that…where I feel very different than that.

Initially, back in the mid-college years, the loss of my identity created such panic, pain, confusion and despair that the only way out of the dark was for me to ask questions about the light. If I hadn’t asked, I would have been swallowed whole and physically gone forever.

Since then, my interests, passions, and expressions have changed and evolved. I began to nurture more of my feminine aspects and energies, which ties in my connection to dancing, drumming, writing, hiking, yoga, traveling, meditation, etc. In hopes to find some sense of self and purpose, I began to ask myself deeper questions about life, spirit and God. With these questions, answers, thoughts and prayers, combined with new interests, I am here, today, as is.

Taking another step back, two and a half years ago I was working for an incredible organization that promotes health, beauty and wellness. I loved the organization with all my heart, and still do today, but my intuition told me it was time to move on for various reasons. Within days of these feelings, I was offered the position I have today. A job in athletics…a position in the field I studied in college.

This was significant because I had never worked a day in this field of study—a decision I made when I was the 18-year-old student-athlete, pre identity crisis. So, I felt it was poetic justice for me to have been offered the position. My life had come full circle and I was incredibly curious to see if I would enjoy a career field that once spoke directly to me.

Within a few months, I knew it was not the path for me. I could vaguely see how it once was, but now, after this past week, I can clearly see how it would have been a perfect fit for the old Jill. I say that with respect for who I was then and who I am now.

People do change, if they want to. Not the core of them, but the layers to the core can change. They can be peeled away. I wanted to change. I needed to change. I needed change like a lost traveler in the desert needs water. I was desperate for it…for more understanding, depth and purpose. With this change came a change in me.

Today, the profession, the field, it doesn’t fit my lifestyle. It doesn’t fit me. It invokes part of myself that I enjoy, roughly 10%, but that’s not enough when another 90% of me wants to come to life and doesn’t have room. You can’t just put the layers back on once they have been peeled. You can try, but you suffer even more.

And that’s what I realized this week…Again, I enjoyed the immersion in the sport world this weekend. It was fun to bring to life an old self, but the fun came from it being temporary. I realized it also felt so good because it reminded me how “solid” my life once felt when I had an identity. When someone could ask me what I wanted to do/be and I could say “work in sports.” I used to feel so sure about everything back then. I used to feel so confident in who I was.

Until I wasn’t anymore.

Until what created my identity was no longer; and therefore, I was no longer. And the real suffering began.

Today, my identity, is solely internal. I’m not anything. I’m of everything.

Sweeter Than Chocolate

Quote of the day: “Do not let what you cannot do interfere with what you can do.” —John R. Wooden; retired basketball coach, author

The author of today’s quote seems fitting for the March Madness craze that has literally struck the office of my “day job." This week we are one of four sites hosting the Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight games. So, needless to say, there is a lot of hustle and bustle in the office, not to mention very stressed individuals. I’ve never worked a regional game, so I don’t feel stressed, but everyone around me has and is starting to steam.

There’s not much downtime today in the office, which I prefer, though I wanted to give voice to my Self who patiently awaits her turn to express all that she witnesses. As my fingers grab moments to type in between phone calls, I’m inclined to write about the importance of BEING and the delicate balance of BEING and DOING. I spent some time this weekend reviewing some passages in “The New Earth,” and I appreciated Eckhart’s explanation of WHO we really are. He describes the truth of us as our essence and everything else as just our ego. That is who we are according to his teachings.

Hmmm. I get that.

So as I sat still this weekend, allowing myself to feel from the inside out, to lose myself in the feeling, the essence, I found great rest. It was incredibly calming.

However, when I opened my eyes and stepped back into this world, I felt more lost in it than before. I could hear my to-do list calling me, but it felt so difficult to shift gears and begin the doing. I understand intellectually the truth in being still while doing, but my body doesn't understand it yet. Or, maybe not my body. I don’t know. All I do know is there’s still a disconnect because there is no ease in the transition. It’s still a major struggle to be in the sweet spot of being and doing.

It seems like when you’re so involved in the doing and doing and doing, it’s easier to get things done. But when you take a moment to be, it feels more difficult to do.

I don’t know. I just don’t see yet where they meet. How the worlds comes together. I yearn for them to. That is my greatest wish…my deepest desire…to live in the sweet spot.

Cycles of Awakening

Quote of the day: “Live your life fom your heart. Share from your heart. And your story will touch and heal people's souls.” - Melody Beattie, author

Today feels good. The sun is out once again. The sky shines blue. And I feel myself floating beneath the noise, drama, worry and concern.

A freelance writing and editing tip within the university has come my way. Hmm, not sure if anything will pan out, but still floating.

This time last year I took a retreat to Kauai to rest and reconnect all parts of me—mind, body and spirit. The bright sun, along with the time of year, has brought back memories of the island. Today, when I was out walking on my lunch break, flashes of Hanalei Bay dashed across my inner eye. My body instantly began to remember what it felt like to pull into the town of Hanalei after being gone for seven years. It was a coming-home feeling of tremendous magnitude coupled with effortless joy and grace.

Maybe it is just because of the sun and time of year that I had such remembrances today, or maybe it is because I’m feeling more at home within myself. It is probably a combination of both, but it doesn’t really matter why.

One of the most impactful moments of self-awareness that I had on my trip last year was when I apologized over the phone to my husband for being so angry, inpatient and resentful. I kept on repeating to him, over and over, how sorry I was for my discontent playing such a destructive role in our marriage. He lovingly and patiently accepted my words of grace without giving them much energy. But that moment of clarity, when I realized I had been living as someone other than my true nature, or rather I had been attached to the “pain body” as my identity, changed everything. It brought me back to my Self. It allowed me to see the dramatic roles I had been playing in our marriage and in my life.

Now here I am, a year later, witnessing the same behaviors and feeling the same remorse. I’m thankful for the awareness, again, though I have to be honest. I’m a bit frustrated with this cycle. I can’t imagine how my husband must feel. I mean, don’t get me wrong. He’s no peach all the time, but he’s responsible for himself and I’m responsible for myself, so it serves no purpose in engaging that perspective.

I just can’t help but wonder if the cycle will ever end. Will I always end up waking up to my Self only to fall asleep again and then to wake up and then fall asleep and then wake up and then fall asleep… You get the point.

Is it possible to stay awake? How do we do it?

As soon as I wrote the above questions, immediate answers of, “Yes it is! Moment by moment, day by day, it can be done,” silently tickled my throat.

To be fair to my Self, it wasn’t a year of sleeping. I just had some naps, that’s all.

On a physical side note, since I was a kid, I’ve always loved to nap and sleep. You never had to ask me twice and it takes me about five seconds to fall asleep once my head hits the pillow. I hope this doesn’t mean I am destined to be a sleeper in spirit, as well.

To Be On Purpose

Quote of the day: “People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.” - Thich Nhat Hanh

Over the past few days I’ve picked up a book that had been sitting on my nightstand for months now, to give it another read. It’s “A New Earth,” by Eckhart Tolle. I was introduced to the works of Eckhart like many others through his first novel, “The Power of Now.” I read it around eight years ago and it had a tremendous impact on me. I am a different person because of it.

“A New Earth” also provided a shift in me and my conscious. How could it not, though I haven’t looked at the text in a few years. After reading just a few pages the other night, I am thankfully in remembrance of some powerful messages—one being the “pain body.” I am not going to get into the details of Eckhart’s teachings here and his description of the pain body, but I do want to comment on my relationship with my pain body and how it is impacting me today on this journey.

I notice I fall victim to my pain body all too often, meaning, I physically, emotionally and mentally become attached to negative states of being. I get so wrapped up in them that I believe that I’ve become them. I struggle to see me separate from the pain, stress, worry, hate, fear, drama, pressure…all of it. It doesn’t take long for me to then feel consumed by these negative states as if they are me.

The “pain body” craves the drama, the negative states. It feeds off them. It’s very seductive and powerful.

This is why I continue to feel like I’ve lost my “Self.” In truth, I’ve never been lost. The essence of me has always remained within the stillness, underneath the drama and in between thoughts. This Self is the one I am always looking for but normally mistake for the one caught up in all the noise.

Today I’ve observed me from a witness view. Again, this is part of Eckhart’s teachings. He speaks of the witness being the real you, the truth of you, the essence of you…who you are in unscripted, undefined terms. I witnessed myself getting wrapped up in a number of annoyances, frustrations, concerns and dramas. Some of which were small, others of which were large. Regardless, I was aware of it happening.

I didn’t judge or berate myself for getting pulled into the drama. I just noticed it. And I noticed how charged the drama can be.

These observances today are simply observances. I don’t expect I’ll suddenly be able to remain detached from the pain body. But through the awareness of feeling my Self as separate from the pain body, even when I was getting pulled in, I’m feeling more and more like myself, today. And with that, I recognize the beauty of the blue sky; the warmth of the sun; and the joy in the being.
It is always in the being that we can begin to do what we are destined to. Today feels like square one. Going back to the drawing board, only, there is no drawing to do. There is only being. No more appointments at the moment. No more networking to be had, today. Just being…on purpose.

In Stillness

Quote of the day: "When you lose touch with inner stillness, you lose touch with yourself. When you lose touch with yourself, you lose yourself in the world." - Eckhart Tolle, spiritual teacher, author and lecturer

Where am I to go
but to turn within myself
There is no doing to be had
just being
there is where I reside

Who am I? continues to linger
for the internal alignment is precisely which can create the external fruits
no more looking without
for another dead-end chase
only within
for there is where I reside

Breathe in and out
the gap in between thoughts
where the source lies
the vitality springs
there is where I reside

Awaken to the moment, the here and now
feel it, remaining still, underneath the noise and chatter
this is who I am
the answer to my question
there is where I reside

No concepts or forms create this identity
no thoughts or words explain what is
it only is
in stillness
there is where I reside

And there lies who I am

Soulshine

Quote of the day: “Live today. Not yesterday. Not tomorrow. Just today. Inhabit your moments. Don't rent them out to tomorrow.” —Jerry Spinelli; author

I’m allowing my moment of yesterday to inhabit me today, creating a new moment, now, in the present.

Last night, I had the joy of experiencing the music, beauty and inspiration of Alicia Keys LIVE. Oh yes, my friend Jill and I attended her sold-out concert at the Turning Stone Events Center. She easily exceeded any expectations I had for the evening and I got the feeling she did so for the other 4,999 people in the audience. There wasn’t a soul in the arena who didn’t leave feeling uplifted. It wasn’t just a concert; a form of entertainment. It was also a rejuvenation; a retreat.

Jill and I originally fell in love separately with Alicia’s music, but this past summer when I went to visit her on the island of Prudence, which is off the coast of Rhode Island, where she rented a home for a few months, we deepened our love for her music together. Alicia would serenade us with her deeply soulful love ballads and songs of personal power and reflection as we drove the few miles of dirt road around the island. When we would sink ourselves into camping chairs on the grassland of the western bay, enjoying a front-row view of the day’s sunset with a beer and snack in tow, Alicia would intensify the beauty of the moment. Together, as Jill and I were falling in love with the island and its wondrous nature, we were also falling in love with our soulful selves through her music. It was a special time for both of us.

Clearly, when the news of her stopping to play on her Freedom Tour at a venue less than 30 miles from our homes dressed the headlines of our local newspaper, we knew it was a given for us to attend. All we needed was to purchase tickets, which we did the day after they went on sale.

Jill travels a lot for her job. She can be gone for weeks at a time, only to stop back home for a day or two before the next trip. Whenever she is in town, we normally arrange our schedules for some girl time. She had been gone all week on business and took the super-duper, excruciatingly early flight yesterday morning to give herself plenty of time to make the show. It’s always better to be safe than sorry with air travel. I have had a strange week of physically not feeling so great. After about 20 minutes on the road of catching up on the ins and outs of our week we officially shed our exterior layer of “work mode” and shifted into our “carefree, music-loving, free-spirited” mode.

We enjoyed a light dinner fare accompanied with a tasty beverage, or two, before we made our way to the grand event. We joined the giant mass of concert-goers heading towards the theater. It was a sea of young and old men and women of all different ethnicities. It was beautiful.

After about 30 minutes of an opening act and 20 minutes of a stage change, the lady of the night made her appearance, and boy was she worth the wait. She captivated us early with upbeat, high-energy dancey songs followed by slower, more soulful, sultry, piano-playing ballads. Throughout 90 minutes on stage she managed to play some of her biggest hits and personal favorites, while delivering a powerfully optimistic, hopeful and inspiring message to the audience which affirmed we all are able to do, be and live our hearts’ dream and desire.

Her message was beautiful and her music complemented it perfectly.

Even though this all happened last night, I am still basking in the glory of it. My thoughts are more positive. My body is more comforted. And, my soul is more alive. I am, in this moment, as relaxed and confident as I’ve ever been about who I am and my decision to leave my job in hopes to give my Self a chance to come to life.

Thanks, Alicia, for sharing your talents. And, thanks Jilly, for sharing your soulshine with me. :)