the image on top is "Welcome Home Sweet Sugar" by Kelsey Brooks

Tuesday, February 28, 2012


I feel that it's important to mention the Millionaire Mind Intensive, so that maybe a year from now when I'm looking this over, I'll recognize what a significant burst of energy this seminar brought me. (Note: I rarely actually bother to look things over, but ya know, just in case...)

It was incredible.

And the funny part is, I had to force myself to go.

"I'm too smart for this. I get the point. Can I leave early now?"

It was absolutely hilarious because it was, as heaven-sent, the thing I was wanting most A way to bring myself into a high-energy and hopeful attitude towards money, a seminar on wealth and abundance for good people.

And here I am thinking "do I really need to stay for the afternoon? I don't know if it's worth coming tomorrow".

It was.

One of the things that they said was that if you're not doing everything you can do share your talents, you are essentially depriving your current or future recipient of the love you have and that gift you bring. And you need to create a lifestyle that will support you doing that.

Here's one of my favorites: if your relationship to another person was filled with anger, guilt, shame or fear, would it be a very good relationship? Well, that's your relationship to money.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012


Last summer, I was playing with medicine cards in our hippie hamptons home. Each person pulls a card out of the deck, and it really is an entertaining and bonding experience to share this with others.

Well, I pulled out "The Bat", which is a symbol of death/rebirth. Lauren (my college roommate and tribal core) was particularly enthusiastic of this choice for me, pointing out that it suits me well.

I go through a fairly dramatic death/rebirth cycle.....um, once a year? twice a year? twice a month? well, with some frequency.

It's usually characterized by a period of panic in which I realize that the life that I'm leading isn't a truly authentic choice. That is, I am not acting like the mortal and timely being I am, in which each moment is precious and there is not a single one to waste.

So now I live in Venice, and I nervously type this across the attractive photographer/ motorcyclist sitting in front of me. It's a fascinating state of writing where, instead of getting caught up in the page, I feel more present in the situation as the words flow out of me. There's less mind to it. It's like Thich Nhat Han says, I am writing, but I am not suffering.

This way of self-expressing is something I've been seeking in various stages of intensity through college and in particular, the past few months. And Andres Salcedo's classes have been helping.

It's the Kirtan.

I swear it is.

I asked Shiva, what can I do for fifth chakra blockages, what asana, but to no avail: just chanting, she says. Anything else, I ask? You can kind of bring your fingers up and away from your throat as you chant, she shows me.

But basically, chant.

I had a panic attack tonight. I thought that was a new york thing. (nope). Thought it was a childhood thing (nope).

For those who haven't had a panic attack, it's a succession rapid heart beat and downright pain in your chest. A subtle, empty, sore pain.

Mind goes nuts. Mind sounds like this:

"I'm so scared to try and fail. I don't think I can do it. I don't think my best is good enough. I don't know when I made that decision, but I don't think my best is good enough anymore. Oh man....

And then...

"I want to be loved so much. When did this arise? Oh my god, I want to be loved SO much. This was never my thing, this was always someone else's thing. And now it's my thing- wtf?

And the kicker....

"What if I die, having never created anything significant or meaningful. What if I fucking die, never having created anything significant?"

So, I'm hanging out on my back in a restorative heart opener, pounding my chest- probably not as wise a choice as a forward fold, but at this point I was so fascinated by my panic, that I wanted to explore it just as much as I wanted it to go away.

The moral of the story is that it turned out just dandy all over, and quite joyous as well.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Cataclysmic Spasms of Growth

I'm into very specific hugs recently. Slow, close hugs when you can feel someone heart against yours. Hugs that take multiple breaths, and you can feel every one.

It's a more thorough expression than verbose stumbling stutter, so often taken awry.

Kimi's starting to pick up the habit. Watch me be physical, she jokes. And she gives such great hugs.

I've been into clarity. “Appreciating the finer aspects of sobriety”, said a dude to me many years ago, the same guy who offered my first toke. Thanks to facebook, I know is now biking through Mexico, sustaining multiple adventure-related injuries and reletivity few showers. I bet he'd crack up in hysterics if he read this now.

My mind comes back to people who embody their dreams, reminding me in the distance of my own. A gentle reminder to focus in, or at least, that's how I choose to take it in.

I've been into sweaty workouts and lingering yoga practices. When crunched on time, I'll go deeper with a half hour of cardio, flushed like embarassed, then drop down to an hour of yin. My navel seems attached to my low ribs now, and I really like it like that.

Andres said my favorite thing he's ever said today. He said that every spiritual practice, essentially distills down to a few questions. “Who am I? How do I live a meaningful life? How can I live in accordance with truth? How can I live and act out of love? And, what the fuck?”

Note; I am probably butchering all the questions but the last. They were very meaningful queries on identity and impact, but sometimes I mess stuff up.

I took his Dark Side of the Moon practice, and I wish I could write about it, but I couldn't even find my shoes after it.

I could not find my shoes. And they were in my bag. Emily found them for me.

That's a sign of a really good yoga practice, a negligent human, or both.

It was absolutely incredible. I would take it again, twice, in a heartbeat.

I've been into chanting. Between Paul's intro to landmark and speaking my shame and dreams to a hundred people, and hare ram, I'm starting to break through the throat chakra block. I'd like to express what I believe, the paradoxical fragility and strength in that belief, and my desire to help. Truly.

What else has been new?

I spent Thursday afternoon in meditation with my mentor, feeling far too much around me. One of the things I appreciate about Arthur is that he really gets my confusion, my dismay of humanity's actions as a whole.

Sometimes I feel so responsible.

As if I did it. As if I killed billions.

And in a way, sometimes I think I did.

Isn't it the same self-hate that's at work, at a larger scale? That capacity for disgust, for anger...

And when I don't over come those emotions in myself with love, is it not a reflection on humanity's greater inability to live peacefully.

I am hard on myself sometimes. Then I'm hard on myself for being so hard on myself. And so on and so forth. It's a fairly common conundrum, and I hope I'm breathing myself free of it, or it seems to be that way.