This Green Juice Nourishes Your Complexion

There are days when I skip the exotic veggies and return to my staple juice. I craved the sweet, crisp taste of celery juice this week. A simple recipe that is the equivalent to homemade chicken soup in my book. It warms my heart by returning to the familiar. This specific juice will rejuvenate your skin & hair. You'll need: 2 heads of vitamin B packed celery, 1 1b. of carrots, 4 large blood-pressure lowering cucumbers and 1 peeled lemon. Trim the ends off all the veggies and wash well. Divide them in half into two piles. Cucumbers may be juiced on low, the rest on high. This should yield about 64 oz, enough for 4 days. Celery and cukes reduce the acidity in our bodies, believed to cause disease. They are well-know anti-cancer foods and will keep you "regular". Not bad for two very easy to find inexpensive vegetables.

I don't actually use a lemon, I use lemon ice cubes. One cube per batch and I toss it in the juice catching container prior to juicing. Our lemon tree is on steroids, so I squeeze a bunch of lemons and pour the juice into ice cube trays, freeze them, and then pop the cubes into a gallon freezer bag. Store in the freezer and you have lemon for all your recipes until next citrus season! Pretty clever for a city girl, don't you think?

Is Your Soul For Sale?

Most of us would not follow Faust and sell our soul to the devil, but there are less obvious ways we may hock parts of our soul to satisfy some of the seven deadly sins. Can you name them all? I always forget one or two, but they are greed, sloth, envy, gluttony, pride, anger & lust. Of all, pride is regarded as the most damaging sin. Lack of ego eradicates them all. Sloth is a bit trickier as it relates to laziness and allowing our talents to go to waste. Perhaps selfishness causes sloth? Not wanting to share our talents with the world or donate our time selflessly to others since it would require work? When we sacrifice bits of our integrity and self-worth for money (who hasn't?) we need to be observant and aware. Missing your child's play or soccer game due to work obligations is sometimes necessary. Skipping out on a social event because you are wiped out from a frenetic work week is perfectly fine. Biting your tongue with clients who disrespect your time and worth is NOT ok in the long run. Hating your job is NOT ok. Allowing others to take advantage of your good nature is NOT ok. Eventually, these actions eat away at our soul like acid and pierce the armour of our divinity. A good friend of mine just started a new job she absolutely loves. Her prior job was fulfilling & paid well, yet office politics were draining her. The last straw broke when her company sold out to a conglomerate and her boss threw her under the bus.  Despising every hour at this new, antiseptic workplace she quit on the spot one fine day. She now wonders why she waited so long. Eventually, we all boil over like pasta water left on the stove too long. The signs that we are "done, prick me with a fork" include that gnawing feeling in your gut, sometimes manifesting itself as stomach aches, nausea or a general feeling of malaise. Ulcers are the physical outcome of uncontrolled acid created by stress.
Renting out parts of our soul for short periods of time is a bargain we've accepted in our lives. Check in with your higher Self every now and then to make sure you didn't rent your soul out to a hold over tenant. Living authentically and fully leaves very little room for compromise with our lower Self. 

Juicing Wild Dandelion Greens Is a Tame Endeavour

I've done a lot with weeds, just never drank one before. These wispy, long bright green leaves are mild in flavor and considered a superfood by none other than Dr. Oz. Choose iron-packed dandelion greens that are bright green, not wilting or browning on the sides, you want the freshest weeds possible. Their Irish green potassium rich liquid is not abundant, but unless you are really adventurous (or a goat) eating them raw is a bit too wild for me. Here is my recipe for this week: 1 bunch of dandelion greens (ends trimmed and rinsed well under running water), 4 cucumbers which are finally affordable again (ends trimmed), 2 heads of celery (2 for $1 @Sprouts this week) ends trimmed and 1 peeled lemon. Divide all veggies equally into two separate heaps and juice. To juice dandelion greens, fold a handful in half and stuff with leaves & ends pointing upward and feed through Breville on low. Should give you about 64 oz. of juice. You can freeze freshly made juice, although it does change to a grainy texture (instead of smooth) once defrosted. Just one warning, these weeds will send you to the water closet - they're a diuretic. Also, brimming with beta carotene.
Salud!

My Ego Is Stalking Me

It shows up at my doorstep uninvited, unwanted and most unwelcome. I thought I was rid of this pest called ego, done with it, finito. Like a reformed addict free from drinking the Kool- Aid of self-importance and arrogance. Teaching the joys of humility and detachment from pride to my students. Proud of my ascent onto the ladder of enlightenment, only to miss a rung in my selfish giddiness. The I-Maker skulked back into my life as I happily donated a trailer full of old household items and a large turkey to a soup kitchen last holiday season. Feeling like Santa Claus riding in on his sleigh, I apparently expected the receivers of this generous gift to kiss my feet. Wow, was I disappointed! The manager of the Love Kitchen was grateful for my 25+ year old stove and 20+ year old mattress, just not to my ego's satisfaction. The shocking revelation to me was that I had expectations at all. Concealed from my conscious mind, ego leaped out into my path and unnerved my higher Self.  Pride and ego are survivors and, not unlike a scorpion, can go a year without being fed and live in sub zero temperatures. And like scorpions, are practically impossible to eradicate. Trust me, I know about living with scorpions. So I now treat this unwanted pest by dousing it with daily meditation, staying vigilant of my inner thoughts, and as a last resort, stomping on it mercilessly with the shoe of humility. Just remember, scorpions crawl into your slippers, climb walls and hide behind your bath towel. They show up in the most unlikely places...and it's scorpion season in Phoenix again.

My Venture into Juicing Red Cabbage

How to choose the right cabbage? Select tightly wrapped crisp leaves with no browning on the edges. Never having purchased a cabbage before, I went out on a limb and ended up with a healthy looking head (inside resembles a cerebellum, weird). Now, how to juice it. I was startled at what a red cabbage's innards look like, swirly red & white veins and very dense. Make sure you have a sharp knife on hand, I only work with Wusthof Trident knives, a good utility knife did the job here. You'll need to cut the halves lengthwise again and again until they will fit into the feeder. I was concerned about how to clean the leaf crevices, but they were so compact I just slightly pried them open under running water and no dirt or other surprises washed out. Breville's manual suggest a low speed setting but this super food cabbage is packed full of crisp leaves and I found the high speed pulverized it easier. How does it taste? Surprisingly mild and pleasant, similar to bok choy but a bit sweeter. It packs a wallop of Vitamins C & K.
 So here is the recipe I used to create this ruby red anti-cancer, inflammation reducing, anti-oxidant concoction: 1 medium red cabbage, 2 lbs. of carrots (ends sliced off), 1 head of celery (clean off ends) and 1 lemon (peeled). Divide all veggies equally into 2 piles and juice. I tossed in 2 apples 'cause they were there, but it almost sweetened the juice too much. Makes 64 oz. Salute!

Juicing Broccoli Stalks Keeps the Doctor Away

and everyone else. The stalks are packed with vitamin C and calcium, along with fartacious qualities. Not any more offensive than eating broccoli or brussel sprouts, just your run of the mill cabbage gas passing. Aside from that, they were great juiced! I trimmed the very end of the stalks and set my machine on high. Tasty and a green way to reuse those stalks after I stir fried the florets for dinner. For this juice concoction I assembled the following veggies: 4 broccoli stalks, 2 lbs. of carrots (scrubbed and ends trimmed), 1 peeled (Breville wants citrus peeled) lemon, 1 head of celery ends & tops trimmed. Divide veggies into 2 piles and grind away! If each batch does not make 32 oz. add more carrots. I think the sweetness of the carrots mellowed the broccoli, but it was a great recipe and will make it again. Here's drinking to your bones and immune system!

Walking The Path In Go Go Boots

Preferably thigh high black patent leather ones. Nancy Sinatra wore white ones in her classic video "These Boots Are Made For Walking", but as any fashionista will tell you, white shows dirt. And trust me, those boots are gonna get dirty.
Walking the path of enlightenment isn't for sissies, it requires body armor to deflect the arrows of hate, sloth, greed, temptation and desire. Sturdy boots to trudge through all the knee deep in manure chasms life dumps in our path. A brave, bright heart  to position you back on the path once you've lost your way in the darkness. Finally, a lifeline to pull you out of quicksand (unexpected tragedies) that swallows you at the blink of an eye, paralyzes you and knocks the breath out of your lungs.
Walking the path is the yoga of action. Our everyday actions or inactions determine our way, change our course. Our reaction to unexpected and/or unwanted events shape our future. My path was forever altered after Annie's death and slowly my new world is revealed, one layer at a time. Life's small inconveniences don't bump my ride anymore. I don't take my friends or loved ones for granted these days. On the odd side, my threshold for offensiveness is 100% higher (not that I was a delicate flower before). Not much could EVER offend me after Annie's tragic death, that was obscenely offensive. I also couldn't give a fig what anyone thinks of me, living life fully demands snugging on my go go boots, holding my head high with a sweet smile and doing my thing.
It's a long and winding road embarking on the right way, yet it is also the ONLY way. There are no shortcuts or bypasses, those all lead to unhappiness. The road to spiritual joy is at times rocky, its journey uncertain during turbulent storms, yet the path is always lit with the beacon of faith and trust. I choose to walk the path in style, 'cause those boots were made for walkin'!

When Earthquakes Strike

Ever been in an earthquake? It is a terrifying experience when the ground beneath you is not solid. Nothing to hold on to, at the mercy of outside forces. My heart goes out to the people of Japan, they have a long road to recovery.

When our foundation is shaken to its core, what do we hold on to? When the outside world is not safe, what centers us from within? A life-altering event can have the same effect as an earthquake. A death, divorce, financial crisis, marriage, a baby are all life changing events. Even though some are positive, they are still frightening and throw us off our axis. When tragedy struck my world last month, I felt I was shoved off a moving train. Bruised, screaming, shocked, amazed that such a powerful force didn't actually kill me, I'm in awe of the human spirit and how it can survive such a blow to the soul. What empowered me to get up after being thrown off a moving train, dust myself off and start walking? My answer was faith, trust in the unknown. Because I don't know what else to call it. It was not hope, I had none. Hope requires positive thinking about the future, as in "I hope for a better tomorrow" or "I hope we win the lottery". What is hope anchored to? Hope is light and airy, and needs to be weighted down for substance. I believe hope is anchored to faith. I had faith but not hope, so can we have hope without faith? I'm not sure. Faith and trust sustain us through the darkness, even when we don't understand how, even when we can't see. For some, faith means God and religion, to some of us it means trust in the all-knowing, that which is beyond mortal understanding.

I'm not telling you what you should believe, I am merely tossing a few thoughts out there for you to chew on. In Japanese, the word "shin" encompasses faith, belief and trust. In Sanskrit, that word is "shraddha". Beautiful aren't they?

I wish I could tell you a personal earthquake will never strike you, but that would be naive of me. All I wish is that when it does, you can find a little faith, hang on to it for dear life and wait for the quaking to stop.

My Begging Bowl

What to do when your bowl is filled with something you don't want? When I was little and my mother would feed me a food I disliked, it got secretly tossed behind the fridge next to my chair. That worked well until the cleaning lady moved the fridge one day and my secret was uncovered. My dinner chair got moved.
I was introduced to the concept of Buddhist begging bowls in a small but lovely book titled Everyday Sacred. The monks depended on the kindness of people to fill their empty bowls with either food or money, but some days they were never filled. Plus, no choice on what they were given. On a philosophical level, what are we supposed to do when our life bowl is forcibly ladled with foulness so vile you want to vomit? Not allowed to toss it out or exchange it for a better choice. When every cell in your body rejects what's been placed in your bowl, yet you are forced into accepting it. Such is the world I live in right now. I don't want to accept Annie's gone, yet I can't bring her back. I am wedged in this corner of rejecting something abhorrent and yet knowing it will stay in my life bowl forever. How do I make peace with this? Accepting yet despising every moment of it, swallowing the bad medicine, clutching onto my soul as it screams in pain from the gaping wound still raw, I will survive the suffering and eventually heal. Through meditation and yoga, acceptance will coat rejection with the nectar of higher goodness. My begging bowl still has room for sweetness, love and peace.
May your begging bowl always be filled with all that you need and is good in this world.           

Darkness Settles In For A Long Stay

Remember my past post from 5/2/09 about a dark, damp tunnel with bats? I'm in it. A few yards in from the entry of the tunnel, I am paralyzed with fear. I can't turn back, yet I am terrified of taking a step forward deeper into the darkness. Processing grief is an individual experience, and I know I must work through it not over it to move on in my life. For the first time, I'm afraid of the space I've been slammed into, a space I know nothing about. A space NOBODY should ever be in, who knew there were levels of death that were better than others? The last time I felt pain this raw was the suicide of a dear friend of mine from high school. It all flooded back with a vengeance after Annie's death. The darkness I must blindly tread through to reach the light on the other side is uncharted for me. No GPS to state the length of this tunnel, it's possible pitfalls or curves. A mind path I must endeavour alone, deep into the recesses of my soul and uncover whatever landmines I missed in the past. This time to reach the other side, there are no shortcuts and my soul will be stripped bare.
For now, I wake up every day, I meditate and give myself permission to be in whatever space I will be in that day. Not pushing for revealment, accepting the dark tunnel, the screaming bats that I can't see and taking comfort that I am loved by so many.

A Bright Light Extinguished, My Soul Is Dimmed

One of my dearest, oldest friends was violently murdered last week. Annie was larger than life, with a vibrant energy that was palpable. Her smile contagious, her laugh unforgettable and her eyes could pierce right into your soul. A fiery temper to match her beautiful red (now blonde) mane, a porcelain complexion most women would envy and a goddess in the kitchen. Annie would give you her last dollar, her kindness was infinite as was her love for animals, especially doggies. Her flare for decorating and hosting fabulous parties were just a few of her many talents. She taught me how to host a party and entertain, making it all seem effortless, a skill I never learned to master. How she could take a bath right before 50 people were to show up at her home amazed me. I'm always running around like a crazy person!

Annie was my touchstone, the one who could always talk me off the ledge and make me laugh at the same time. She was the older sister I never had, I am now left to navigate this life without her wisdom or colorful wit as a compass. When we joked about the gradual signs of age, I'd taunt her and scream " You first!". I was supposed to grow old with her as my friend, yet that is not to be.

My life's path is forever altered, in ways still unknown. Annie would say the best gift I could give her would be to live fearlessly and fully. A gift we can all give Annie to honor her memory. Live every day as if it were your last.

It's Groundhog Day...again.

A link between the Bhagavad Gita and "Groundhog Day" the movie?
Yes! Yoga is threaded into the film w/Bill Murray. In the Bhagavad Gita (a must read!), Krishna tells Arjuna that there are three ways he can achieve transcendence or enlightenment. One way is through Karma yoga, or the yoga of action. It is through selfless action, helping others without expectation of compensation or ego. Bill Murrays' character, Phil Connors, transcends at the end by performing selfless acts and not thinking of himself or expecting anything in return. Not to mention the countless times he "dies" just to be "reborn" into the same day, over and over and over, until he learns to be a better person.
OK, so maybe I'm out there, but yoga is more than just physical poses or asanas. One can find yoga in everything. So, Happy Groundhog Day!

Who Is Directing Your Life Movie?

I'm probably a bit behind the curve, but I finally saw the film "Inception". Thought it was a good, provocative movie but not in the same league as "The Matrix". It did cause me to ponder the film at different times the next day, and the next, and the next. What is it about the theme of 'Inception" that buzzed in film goers minds for days after? Or caused many to view the film several times over? What are we looking for? The Answer, of course. Is the film entirely a dream? Does it have a deeper meaning that we are meant to uncloak? Only the writer and director know the true answer, but it did lead me to my interpretation of "Inception". A dream within a dream is not a concept, I dream this way most of the time. I am the director of my dreams and if at any point I don't like the direction my dream is heading, I go back a few chapters and change key elements in the dream to produce an outcome that is acceptable to me. Many times, as I am in the middle of a dream, I view the whole scene in this surreal scape of being an observer on the set. I am directing myself in a movie per se. It is rare for me to not have control over my dreams, but it does occur. And it's unsettling. In the movie, they are able to drop into 3 levels of dreaming. The dream within the dream would be level 2 (me observing the dream as the director, for example), but was is level 3?? I believe it is where our body ceases to exist, we are everywhere but we are nowhere and we are simply "mind". The deepest level of meditation takes us to another level of reality, where there is no physical presence or compass, you just are. Level 3, as my husband described so succinctly, is telling the director in level 2 how to direct the events in level 1. So who is in control of level 3? Our soul, our inner self, that place within us that is all-knowing, where instinct and intuition are born. Many of us who have achieved this deeper level of meditation describe it as falling. You have to allow yourself to let go completely and plunge into the unknown. As if you were falling into a black hole, trusting the outcome whatever that may be. Practicing meditation hones our mind into achieving this deeper level of understanding of ourselves, the universe and the meaning of life. What was your interpretation of "Inception"?

It's a Rutabaga Baby! Let's Juice It!

OK, it was not my intention to juice a rutabaga, I just ran out of veggies to run through the Breville and found it in my fridge drawer. Interesting taste, a teeny bit bitter but NOTHING like a turnip. Skip the turnip, trust me.  I drank that concoction once with my nose pinched shut, although the taste mellowed by the next day. Aww, now how to choose a rutabaga. Firm to the touch, not slimy and no visible blemishes, growths or warts. My juicing cocktail this week included a bunch of asparagus (99 cents @Sprouts, that's a great deal). I've never juiced this elegant green veggie before as I like it steamed, but it doesn't deliver much liquid, it's more like a dark emerald serum dripping out of the spout. Asparagus is an anti-cancer food, protecting against brain, colon and lung cancers. Check out the Anti Cancer Diet book to learn more about cancer fighting foods. So here is what I'm sipping on as I blog: 3 cucumbers, 1 large rutabaga (peeled), 1 bunch of asparagus (ends trimmed), 1 lemon, 2 lbs. of carrots, and 1 small head of bok choy. Divide veggies into 2 piles and juice. I'll probably not juice asparagus again but the rutabaga wasn't bad! Cheers!

Juicing with Bok Choy, Oh Boy!

This recipe makes for a really pretty bright green juice, not bitter either! You'll need 2 heads of celery (they were 88 cents @Sprouts this week and crisp), 1 head of bok choy (make sure leaves are fresh, not yellowing or browning), 4 cucumbers (trim ends off and chop in half), 1 large apple and 1 lemon (peeled). Divide equally into 2 piles and juice. Bok choy delivers a lot of juice, use high power mode. This recipe makes 64 oz. and enough to pour yourself a fresh glass to enjoy. Now this is healthy drinking!

Hope Floats

Martin Luther King's birthday just passed and I mused on how close to the new year it falls. When I think of Mr. King, the word "hope" always filters to the top. Hope permeates the air in January like the scent of my blossoming tangelo in springtime. After all, New Year's resolutions need a good sprinkling of hope to manifest themselves. So I am pondering the word hope. When we anchor hope onto our dreams, expectations or accomplishments, it not only gives them a sense of lightness or buoyancy but density as well. When we hope for a better life situation in the new year, it adds a weighty quality to our desire. There is a responsibility to take practical steps towards that goal, not just a wistful desire that our future improve. Turning hope into reality is an intense proposition. In my view, hope carries a lot of weight, yet is light to carry. It is that airy, souffle-like quality that I am focusing on this year. How can I lighten the load or burden of procuring myself a better life and not feel as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders? Every morning prior to meditation, I now ask myself what brought me happiness yesterday: a peaceful hike with my Australian Shepherd, the deep tissue massage I scheduled in the afternoon (a Christmas gift from my hubby). Then I ask what will bring me happiness that day, and think of at least one joyful experience yet to come. It may be as simple as watching a movie with my husband or enjoying a good meal with friends that coming evening. Remembering how important joy is in our daily lives keeps hope afloat within our hearts. Here is a fun question I asked my yoga students: If hope were a food, what food would it be for you? I visualize a light, airy chocolate mousse, with an intensely pure cocoa taste. Something so light on the tongue, yet exploding with flavor on the palate. I received some unexpected responses, from spinach to alfalfa sprouts, even bananas! There is no right or wrong food choice, I just felt dessert was way more fun! Share your choice in the comments section, I'd love to know. Hope props us up and helps carry us above the challenges placed before us. May your burdens be light and your joys many this upcoming year.

New Raw Juicing Recipe

Not finding decent celery stalks at Sprouts this week, especially as they were asking $1.19/each, I bought the largest jicama I could wrap my hand around instead. This recipe made 64oz. of juice, enough for 4 days. No, I don't juice every day, and yes, I really think it's OK to refrigerate juice up to 4 days.
6 cucumbers, 2 lbs. carrots, 1 very large jicama (peeled) and 1 lemon (peeled). Divide veggies equally into 2 piles and juice. Jicama is very mild in taste and delivers a lot of liquid. I used high power mode to run it through.
I've been juicing for about 2 years now, so if you have any questions on this raw food drink or want to share any delicious recipes, let me know!

Ring In, Toss Out.

This new year is the year I look towards what I want, not back on what I don't want. Say what, you ask? Instead of focusing my energy on negative patterns I want to change, zero in on the positive trends I'm starting. One of my favorite films is from the 1970's titled "The Gumball Rally" starring a young, handsome Raul Julia as an Italian race car driver. The story is about a handful of car enthusiasts and their yearly illegal race across the country. As Raul Julias' character steps into his Alfa Romeo, he grabs a hold of the rear view mirror and states: (insert Italian accent here)"What is behind us is not important!" and yanks the mirror off, tossing it into the backseat. Fabuloso! In life, what is in our past should stay there. Notice it become smaller as you move forward down the superhighway of life. Travel light carrying only what you need. The new year is as good a time as any to assess our needs, wants, desires and hopes. The more "needs", the more luggage you haul. One of my New Year's intentions is about conquering fear, fear of the future, of failing, of not achieving my full potential as a human being, fear of falling (on my head, that is, in pincha mayurasana-forearm stand). Tall order. And yet, my path towards less fear is by heading straight into it. Forgetting about past failed attempts at the above entreaties, tossing out the rear view mirror, and heading down the road pedal to the metal no speed limit in sight. I realize the only obstacle in my path is myself, I'm the one with invisible constraints on my future. How to bypass that? Distinguish between true fear and imprinted fear. True fear is flying at 120mph well beyond my driving skills, imprinted fear is speeding up to 30mph beyond my comfortable driving speed. A bit frightful, adrenaline going, but not really dangerous. And without a rear view mirror I won't steal glimpses at it for those dreaded flashing red and blue lights. I'll just keep moving ahead until I reach the finish line. With a new year comes new beginnings, renewed hopes. May yours be guided by an open heart and an open mind as you reach for your goals.

Merry Christmas Charlie Brown!

I love the Peanuts gang. It's just not the holidays without seeing Snoopy rock out on his electric guitar! I break out in a funky dance as soon as the "Lucy and Linus" theme chimes in. What is it about Charlie Brown that makes him and his friends so timeless?

Charlie Brown brings out the child in each of us, transporting us back to simpler times and carefree lives. He helps us recapture, even if for a short time, the joy of our inner child, that sense of wonder and boundless happiness. This Christmas I chose to uncomplicate my obligations and focus on the true meaning of this Christian holiday. Although I don't personally belong to an organized religion, the true meaning applies to all human kind. Goodwill, charity, understanding, peace, empathy, selflessness should be a part of us all year round, not just around the holidays when it's fashionable.

The sad, little tree that needs a home is pretty obvious in the Peanuts version. Showing compassion for others, even a tree, is much easier than turning that compassion within and directing it inward. Our inner child needs nurturing and love as well. There is a well known Buddhist meditation titled "Loving Kindness". This meditation is about compassion, compassion for ourselves first, then toward those we know, and finally to all sentient beings. Like the emergency oxygen mask we strap on prior to assisting others, being merciful to our inner self is like oxygen for our soul. We can't adequately help others if we don't attend to our spiritual child first.

Although Snoopy is my favorite Peanuts character (who doesn't want a dog like Snoopy??), Charlie Brown carries our inner child on his sleeve labeled as insecurity, angst and simplicity. Yet it is in simplicity that the divine qualities of our inner child shine. Open hearted, good and kindly are the traits we should carry on our sleeve every day, just like Charles.

My Christmas wish to you all is to find your inner child and give it a reason to smile. Feel the warmth of that smile radiate through your soul and fill you with compassion and joy.

What Are You Grateful For?

Thanksgiving Day is upon us and gratitude is the word that bubbles to the surface of my consciousness. Grateful for every single moment of my silly life. I take so many moments for granted, such as my ability to hike a mountain, gaze at a rainbow sherbet sunset as I'm stuck in rush hour traffic, take in the melodious singing of competing songbirds in my garden, conversing with a good friend, laughing and playing with my young nephews, sharing a delicious meal. I am in deep gratitude for a healthy body and mind and for all the gifts I've been bestowed that money can't buy. I am grateful to each and every one of you for your friendship, love and kindness. May tomorrow truly be a day of thankfulness for all of you.

I've Been Kicked Out of Bars, But This Is Ridiculous!

Yes, I've been kicked out of bars, a hotel, a public park, and probably a couple of other places I can't recall anymore but this last incident was disturbing. On a recent Sunday evening, my husband, 14 year-old Australian Shepherd and I went on our normal walk. The same walk we've been embarking on for 9 years. Suddenly, a man's voice is screaming hello at us, and this pudgy, short figure waddles up behind us, scaring the beegeebees out of me. I shrieked and jumped a yard back not knowing what this stranger wanted. Was he on drugs, did he want money? Here we are, on a darkened neighborhood street with not a soul in sight, and this weirdo starts asking us if we live in the neighborhood. Are you kidding me? My husband, concerned for our safety, starts asking this seemingly mentally disturbed middle-aged guy why he wanted to know. All excitable now, the stranger states that this is a private street (not gated, mind you) and we are trespassing. My husband, still thinking this guy is on drugs, asks if he's a security guard or just out to lunch. Whipping out his IPhone, the crazy lawyer (yes, big surprise) announces he's calling the police to have us escorted out and proceeds to speed dial someone, probably his wife. We were escorted out by a paper pushing, overweight middle-aged white guy to the edge of the subdivision. I'm not making this up. We were told to stay south of Cholla Street where we belonged and never to return to Village Fairways subdivision (friendly place).
Why, you ask?? We still don't know why. We always pick up after our dog, although to our chagrin, our bag was empty during this incident. I think attorneys and dog poop go well together. We weren't dressed indecently, although our dog WAS naked. Obviously, he hates dogs. And people. Especially people who don't live in Village Fairways, where only unfriendlies are welcome.
So if you ever find yourself walking your dog near Village Fairways, and spot a late model black Mercedes Benz coupe (yes, the crazy lawyer's car), feel free to toss that steaming hot, full bag of dog poop at it. Tell him it's a belated gift from me.
P.S.- Will keep you posted on this one. Village Fairways is bounded by Cholla St. & Stonecreek Golf Course and 42nd St. to Tatum Blvd. in Phoenix.

Mamma Mia! Here I Go Again

Yes, it's a musical. With ABBA music. I omitted both of those facts when my husband asked what the movie we were about to watch, Mamma Mia!, was about. "It's a comedy, honey", I sweetly replied. By the time he figured out there was dancing AND singing at the same time, it was too late. He abhors musicals. If I ever want to torture him, I'll tie him to a chair and force him to watch "The Sound of Music" repeatedly. But I digress. The 70's were big. Big on everything. Sequined jumpsuits w/bell bottoms wide enough to hide a family of squirrels. Platform shoes for wading through rice paddies. Cars that could double as boats, and larger than some New York apartments. It was fabulous! Why am I blogging about this? Because of one scene. Forget the decadence of a Greek island setting, Meryl Streep singing her heart out and Pierce Brosnan bravely crooning onscreen. The girls on the bed jumping and hopping captured my heart. When is the last time you jumped up and down on a bed? Let your inner child go wild? Threw caution and propriety out the window and set yourself free? Our souls need to express their silly side as well as their introspective one. Life is way too serious these days. Bounce a yo-yo, throw a Frisbee, lick a Popsicle, chase your friend with a remote control car, shoot silly string at each other, blow bubbles, and don't forget to jump on the bed! Most importantly, laugh and forget your worries.

Viva Espana!

Felicidades a los campeones de la copa mundial de futbol 2010!!

Joy in a Lunchbox

Who knew Blondie could make me giggle like a little girl? The story I am about to tell you is true, to the horror of my mother, I am sharing it with the blogosphere. She would be mortified!

Once upon a time, at the bottom of a hill in a quiet, middle class neighborhood in Staten Island there was a pile of broken, used, loved but unneeded items waiting for the trash collector. My tear-filled 7-year old eyes kept staring in disbelief at the shiny metal lunchbox sitting there. I loved that lunchbox, but mom said we couldn't take it to Spain with us. There just was no room. No room for a lunchbox??? We had room for a stupid old baby grand piano but not my favorite lunchbox? I cried so hard and to this day, with crystal clear vision, can see my treasure waiting at the curb. I remember the day my mom bought it for me. I had waited for what seemed eternity for my Blondie lunchbox. Then, one day at the supermarket, I spotted it neatly lined up on an upper shelf above the open freezer with scores of other lunchboxes. I squealed with delight, jumping up and down pointing at it! I HAD to have it, so the nice clerk climbed up the ladder and handed it to me. I quickly unlatched it, but there was no Thermos. No Thermos? The man looked around at all the other lunchboxes, but this was the last Blondie left. I glanced quickly at my mom terrified she would make me give it back and told her there was no way I was giving up Blondie, Thermos or not. She asked the man if it would be possible to take one from a different lunchbox and my Blondie lunchbox was complete with a Yellow Submarine (yes, from the Beatles) Thermos. I carried that lunchbox everywhere! I was soooo happy! Until the day we moved to Barcelona, Spain.

I've never forgiven my mother for that atrocity, it was psychologically damaging. She has apologized over and over for this faux pas, and I certainly seem to have survived without it. In fact, I didn't realize how much it affected me until last week. A friend gave me an unexpected gift for just being a friend. You guessed it, a Blondie lunchbox with the correct Thermos this time around. See picture accompanying this entry to see me clutching it with absolute joy and delight!

Even I was surprised at how much joy and completeness it brought me. My friend remarked how brokenhearted he was when I told him the story a while back and wanted to show his gratefulness by giving me this incredibly thoughtful gift.

My Blondie lunchbox and I are reunited at last, a complete circle of sorts. I've forgiven my mother and I am NEVER letting this one out of my hands! Our joys in life sometimes come in the most unexpected packages. The gift of gratitude is the most awesome gift of all. May gratitude find its way to you, and when it does, pass it on!

In 30 Seconds, You're Homeless

The sound and force of a freight train plows through your home at 165MPH, levels it and as quickly as it showed up the train leaves. Within seconds your life is changed, your belongings strewn for miles, it's dark, raining and you are homeless. Except it's not a freight train that ripped away your home, it was an F3 tornado. This is what happened in Millbury, Ohio recently. My girlfriend Sue lives in the neighboring town and the twister roared by a half mile from her home. After viewing the devastating pictures of the damage, I am eternally grateful she and her family are safe. Now it is time to grieve for the dead and help those who were injured or left homeless. Those who were lucky enough to escape the wrath of the twister are left to grapple with an array of emotions: relief, sadness, guilt, grief among others. Tornadoes are especially cruel when weighed against other natural disasters. They are selective on what they destroy. Just view the pictures of Millbury and see. One home is intact and the next door home is flattened to the ground. It is that indiscriminate characteristic of tornadoes that leads to the inevitable question: "Why me?" Is it a matter of luck, fate, God's will? It's none of those, of course. No matter how carefully we craft our lives, plan and organize them, life happens. There is a saying that states "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans". If the raw power of nature teaches us anything, it is that we do not have complete control over our lives. We are at the mercy of the unknown. Sometimes bad things just happen for no reason, not because of superstition, religion, punishment, karma or whatever other label our subconscious tries to slap on it. Accepting that the universe is chaotic and at times without rhyme or reason, is a concept I am coming to terms with. There is one word that sums up how to deal with the uncertainty life throws at us: Grace. And that is how the wonderful people of Millbury and surrounding areas are handling this disaster, with grace. To make a donation to the Toledo Red Cross Chapter, click here.

Random Thoughts

I'm starting a new entry on totally unimportant, useless thoughts and questions that pop into my mind. I figure if I release them into the world they will stop haunting me. Here's one that drives me batty:

Why do drive-up ATM's have braille on them?

Stay Away from the Chicken Farm

Ever smelled a chicken farm? No? Take my advice, stay as far away from the chicken farm as your VISA card will take you. Trust me on this. What about egg farms, you ask? Same as a chicken farm, as my olfactory senses learned last fall in western AZ. Don't worry, the only way you will end up in this far flung town is if you work for the largest nuclear plant in the country,..or the egg farm. Although the guy on the side of the main road as you head into town selling nuts would make a fortune selling gas masks instead. Seriously, bring a gas mask or an astronaut helmet. It seems like a charming, rural Arizona town with towering mountain ranges to the south and land as far as the eye can see. Charming that is, until this horrendous, indescribable pestilent smell creeps into your car's vents. At first you think it will pass, like skunk stink. Then it quickly floods your nasal cavity with a combination of salty, sulfuric and just plain nasty. As I gasped for a sliver of unpolluted oxygen, I hollered "what's that smell?" over and over as my seemingly oblivious husband looked over quizzically...until it hit him. How could such a sleepy, quiet town exude such a rancid aroma? The big, blue sign reading Hickman's Egg Farm said it all. That and the dead chickens across the street. Apparently, some of the smarter chickens tried to make a run for it, only to be killed by the loose dogs in a neighborhood yard. Why did the chicken cross the road? To escape slavery. As we reached the plot of dirt we drove out to see, I could not understand why anyone would live here. Miles away now, the offending scent was still quite present and as a backdrop, the majestic mountain range had a permanent cloud of low fog, a gift from the nearby nuclear plant. Oh, yes, and let us not forget the air horns visibly staked in the event of a nuclear meltdown. Really, what are the air horns for? To warn residents of impending death or permanent zombie hood when they clearly don't stand a chance of escaping?? Land is cheap out there and owning your dream ranch is attainable. I suppose someone needs to man the nuclear plant and I prefer locally grown eggs. But who knew chickens could emit such a foul odor? Disclaimer: I wrote this for you to laugh at my city girl silliness and chose not to name the town in question to protect the chickens.

Lighten Your Load

Ever notice how some people are constantly looking back? They live in coulda, woulda, shoulda land? Living in the past and wishing they'd done..whatever they didn't do? Don't you just want to scream "snap out of it!" I mean, who cares? Alright, my rant is over, whew, I feel better. If we are constantly looking back we will miss what is ahead and either, lose out on an opportunity, or hit a light pole. Don't get me wrong, we need to learn from our mistakes but why flog ourselves over it? Maybe I am missing that regret gene. Not being the most impulsive human probably eases the lack of regret. Not that I don't think being impulsive is fun, I've jumped into plenty of fountains in my time and even clambered over the balcony of a 9th story building once (to my defense I was only 10 and stupidly lucky). But regret is a waste of mind time and a depressant at that. Kicking old habits is not for the faint of heart, but kicking regret out of your consciousness will release you from your past. How to start? As one who lacks the regret gene, I can only speak from my personal vault. Think through major decisions and gather all the facts before jumping in. Apply the Golden Rule to EVERY action or inaction you take. Sprinkle kindness, patience and compassion on every person you encounter (even if it is not reciprocated). Live with passion yet restraint and see what lies ahead.

Flip It Over

Back in the days of records (those round, ebony, circular disks with grooves that play tunes), you'd flip it over to side B for the other half. That side was usually reserved for the lesser known tracks and didn't get played as much. Hence, the speed of light invention of eight track tapes, which didn't need flipping. They did, however, take a ton of space in my 1981 Mustang center console. But I digress. The universe is sending people my way lately who, against their better judgement, believe I can help them. I'm a good listener, give advice when asked, and for the most part, have clarity of thought. In other words, I'm others' sounding board. I don't mind. At a young age peers would come to me for advice and it's been ongoing. I should have become a psychologist as my husband points out, but I didn't want to listen to other people's problems at work AND on my off time. A wise yoga teacher presented me with the concept of flipping over an unsavory situation. When I find myself with a problem, I try the flip side. What positive aspect can I take out of this? If I am going to suffer, which I truly dislike, I might as well learn something. Say you've experienced a life changing situation (divorce, unemployment) and feel like a deer in headlights. Paralyzed by the floor falling away beneath your feet. I see it as an opportunity to start over with a new life. Move to a new city (my choice is Lake Tahoe), go back to school and reinvent yourself. Flip yourself over and explore side B. **Disclaimer- No, I am not getting divorced or unemployed, although being in real estate these days is kinda close.

Where's Your Horizon?

One of the many things I love about the beach is my ability to spot the horizon anytime. There's something reassuring about gazing at the end of the earth, at least visually. Akin to venturing out on a new hiking trail and finally reaching that peak or rushing waterfall, there's a reward for the tired muscles and pounding heart. Yeah, I know life is supposed to be about the journey not the destination (yada, yada, yada), but we really do need to set the destination, even if it's vague or existentialist. Goals, no matter how long-term or small, keep us on the path. We may veer off a side trail and check out the duck pond, but to reach our destination we will hop back on the main route. Otherwise, we could lose our way and wind up on unmarked, rogue trails. And although the journey will be great, darkness may fall and we'll be stranded. Many of us are wondering how we wound up in the thick of this recession, and for many I know, it's a depression, both economic and emotional. Stopped in their tracks, they don't know which trail to take next. We need to reset our GPS and find a new horizon. Keep looking ahead and mind the trail signs to stay on track.

Why Postpone Joy?

I mesmerisingly stare at these words sparkling in rhinestones on a petite woman's t-shirt, and my mind stops in its tracks. Wow, great question I tell myself, and how do you answer that? The white elephant in the room answer is of course, you don't. So why do we postpone joy? That is the deeper question we each must self reflect on. My answer was duty. The duty to work to make money and pay bills. The duty to keep my home from becoming a pig sty, even though I loathe cleaning. The duty to lift weights to stave off the inevitable decay of my muscles from old age. It's the "have to" chores in my life that sometimes postpone my joy, or so I suppose. Maybe it's the attitude with which I approach these duties that needs to shift. What if I find joy in my duties instead? I'm working towards it. I now listen to NPR while the pungent smell of white vinegar wafts up my nostrils. I may as well get smarter while mopping the floors. Finding joy in real estate these days is a bit challenging, but I love my other job, teaching yoga. Paying off bills will give me peace of mind and take a load off, so there is joy in that. Lifting weights? Hmm, maybe if I were narcissistic I could admire the cut muscles on my arms, but it really doesn't do anything for me. I would just as gladly take a pill, or eat spinach. Finding joy requires looking within and shedding habits that no longer serve us, adopting new ones and finding the sparkle (tejase) in all that we do.

Forget Resolutions This New Year

I am banishing the word resolution and replacing it with intention. Doesn't it sound better already? I find resolution to be too stringent and even dictatorial. I felt guilty (leftover Catholic syndrome) when one of my plethora of New Year's resolutions failed each year. Maybe my resolutions should've included "unresolving" as well. Never mind, in with the new, out with the decrepit. Per Webster's, intention means having something in mind as a plan or design; purpose; direction or orientation of the mind toward an object; aim. I like that. I aim to practice more meditation and yoga this year, that way, if I don't quite make it, I at least intended to. An intention leads us down the path toward a goal. Whether we reach the goal or not should be beside the point. By orienting ourselves towards that path we've already changed our future.
My friend Lee pointed out to me that I'm just lowering my expectations, copping out. I told him he should be glad I lowered my expectations, as it meant he didn't need to live up to mine.
Maybe I did lower my expectations, so what? Perhaps this is the year we all do. Or we just need to shift our expectations. Expecting less money and work equals more free time to do yoga, or call Lee. Or not. He's not expecting my call anyway.