stretch appeal
stretch your wings, the rest will follow!
2/16/16
2/14/16
"I have sometimes thought that a woman's nature is like a great house full of rooms: there is the hall, through which everyone passes going in and out; the drawing-room, where the members of the family come and go; but beyond that, far beyond, are other rooms, the handles of whose doors perhaps are never turned; no one knows the way to them, no one knows whither they lead; and in the innermost room, the holy of holies, the soul sits alone and waits for a footstep that never comes. I believe I know the only cure, which is to make one's center of life inside of one's self, not selfishly or excludingly, but with a kind of unassailable serenity - to decorate one's inner house so richly that one is content there, glad to welcome anyone who wants to come and stay, but happy all the same when one is inevitably alone."
~ Edith Wharton
2/11/16
2/10/16
"When people take the time to love themselves each and every day, it is amazing how much their lives improve. They feel better and their relationships improve. Loving yourself brings around only positive relationships. You’ll find that the negative ones, slowly fade out and new, optimistic ones enter your life. Loving yourself is an exhilarating adventure, whether you’re with someone currently or not."
Louise Hay's Guide to Loving Yourself:
1. Stop Criticizing Yourself.
Criticism never changes a thing. Refuse to criticize yourself. Accept yourself exactly as you are. Everybody changes. When you criticize yourself, your changes are negative. When you approve of yourself, your changes are positive.
2. Let Go.
Stop living in the past. Don’t blame yourself for decisions you made before. You did the best you could with the knowledge you had. Now you are growing and changing, and you will live life differently. Forgive yourself.
3. Get Rid of Fearful Thoughts.
Stop terrorizing yourself with your thoughts. You make situations worse by doing so. Think of something that makes you happy and switch from that fearful thought to a gratifying one.
4. Be Gentle, Kind and Patient.
Be gentle with yourself. Be kind to yourself. Be patient with yourself. Impatience is a resistance to learning. Inhale and exhale. Don’t berate yourself, we all make mistakes. It’s OK to make a mistake. Learn from the experience and grow toward a new present. Remind yourself to meditate at least 5 minutes a day.
5. Be Kind to Your Mind.
Self-hatred is only hating your own thoughts. Don’t hate yourself for having the thoughts. Gently change your thoughts to something more positive. As I love and approve of myself and others, my life gets better and better.
6. Praise Yourself.
Criticism breaks down the inner spirit. Praise builds it up. Praise yourself as much as you can. Tell yourself how well you are doing with every little thing, no matter how insignificant.
7. Support Yourself.
Find ways to support yourself. Reach out to friends and allow them to help you. Strength is found in asking for help. Join a program to seek help.
8. Treat Your Body Well.
Incorporate good nutrition and exercise into your life. Think of food as fuel for your body. What fuel does your body need to have optimum energy and vitality? Get outside. What exercises do you enjoy? Incorporate it daily. Cherish and respect the temple you live in.
9. Practice Mirror Work.
Look into your eyes often. Express the love you have for yourself. Tell yourself how wonderful your life is. At least once a day, say, “I love you, I really love you!”
10. Love Yourself… Do It Right Now.
Don’t wait until you get well, or lose the weight, or get the new job, or find the new relationship. Begin now—do it for yourself. You’ll feel so much better and everything else will fall into place.
11. Have Fun.
Find the things that make you laugh. Remember when you were a child, what things made you joyful? Find them and enjoy them again. Laughter is the best medicine. Life isn’t meant to be so serious all the time.
12. Love Others.
When you express love to yourself, it is easier to love others. Let’s only express love and gratitude to those around us. The Universe will send love back. Don’t blame others or react to them. If we send out love, we will only receive it.
Let’s affirm: I see myself as a magnificent being who is wise and beautiful. I love what I see in me.
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2/8/16
2/6/16
1/30/16
1/28/16
1/27/16
Friendship:
As a young woman I often felt like a misfit, someone whose curiosity and interests were just outside the lines of normal. I was broody and introspective. I liked silence and space and time to ponder the bigger questions of life and there seemed to be few people around me who shared these interests.
I imagine my friends and family thought I was strange.
I did my best to fit into the “acceptable human being mold” by keeping to myself, going along to get along, or helping others in the hopes of gaining entry into the club. But I couldn’t maintain the charade.
It’s painful to live in a perpetual state of containment.
Today I’m no longer willing to spend the precious time I have left on the planet dodging sarcasm, feigning interest in boring topics, or defending my choice to live an examined life.
My standards for healthy friendships have evolved because of the good people I have around me - friends who value personal growth and consciousness, who are able to be vulnerable and open-minded, and who are willing to take responsibility for their own stuff."
~ Cheryl Richardson
1/26/16
1/22/16
Plug into your Power:
This is a very potent time of the year to focus on:
you.
Commit to your body, mind and soul:
now.
I offer private:
Coaching
I work with individuals to help them create a powerful tool kit for their life.
I am a big believer in setting up your life as you intend it to be - I can help you get there.
I teach three physical practices a week called:
Stretch Appeal
Tuesday/Thursday @12:45 @BodyVox Dance
tomorrow Saturday @12:30 @Studio 508
These three practices combined on a weekly basis are life-transforming.
I know no better way to unhinge those parts of your body that are locked, painful, under-used, tight and overwhelmed.
Developing Understanding and Compassion
Compassion changes your life and makes it wonderful. Compassion requires understanding. When we are able to understand that someone else is also suffering, that this person has troubles, fears and worries, then we want to relieve their suffering. When we are mindful as we go about our daily activities and in our interactions with others, we develop the space and awareness to nourish compassion and understanding. Compassion is the heart of our practice. It is only with compassion that we can embrace and transform all types of violence and meanness. Only when we treat ourselves with compassion, can we begin to be free in the present moment. This is true in relationships between individuals as well as between nations.
~ thich nhat hanh
1/21/16
The theory that advances the freedom of the human soul is the one theory that does not lay the blame of all our weaknesses upon somebody else. When you find yourself suffering, blame yourself and try to do better. This is the only solution. Take the whole responsibility on your own shoulders, and know that you are the creator of your own destiny. All the strength and succor you want is within yourself. Therefore, make your own future. The infinite future is before you. You must always remember that each word, thought, and deed lays up a store for you, and that as the bad thoughts are ready to spring upon you like tigers, so also are the good thoughts and good deeds ready with the power of a hundred thousand angels to defend you always and forever.
~ Swami Vivekananda
~ Swami Vivekananda
1/19/16
1/18/16
Loss ~
How to talk about it.
How to talk about it.
How to file it.
How to live with it.
Thank You Ellen Urbani for using words that make sense to me:
"Storm, our youngest Great Dane -- our beloved family member, playmate, friend -- died yesterday from complications from an illness she'd been battling since summertime. In the face of great losses others are suffering presently, our grief seems a small and indulgent thing, and yet ... for us, her death brings tremendous sadness. Holding my crying children, I told them that this grief is the price we pay for the great joy Storm brought to us, and that those two feelings are inextricably linked: one can never have joy without sadness, love without loss. I explained to them that some people decide, in their grief, never to love again so as never again to experience such loss, but that such a choice typically portends even greater sorrow. "I wouldn't trade even a single day with Storm, to eliminate this sadness," I said. "Instead, I willingly abide my sorrow, for the gift of having had a chance to share my life with her. "Don't hide from love," I reminded them. "Love is always worth it. Choose love over and over and over again. Choose love, every time."'
1/15/16
1/14/16
I don't want to finish ...
"We want things we cannot have. We seek to reclaim a certain moment, sound, sensation. I want to hear my mother's voice. I want to see my children as children. Hands small, feet swift. Everything changes. Boy grown, father dead, daughter taller than me, weeping from a bad dream. Please stay forever, I say to the things I know. Don't go. Don't grow."
1/12/16
1/11/16
The Friend Who Got Away
by Dani Shapiro
Relationships can surmount all kinds of difficulties. Until they can’t. A writer considers an old pal’s foibles and failings—and her own
Relationships can surmount all kinds of difficulties. Until they can’t. A writer considers an old pal’s foibles and failings—and her own
Last week I saw S. on the street in New York City. She was dashing
across Lexington Avenue against the light. She looked the same as she
had the last time we’d met, more than a decade earlier. Her red hair was
still long and wavy, a little gray now, pulled back in a messy knot.
She was wearing jeans and a big sweater and carrying a heavy satchel
full of books. My heart sped up as I wondered what would happen if she
noticed me, whether we’d say anything to each other or just have an
awkward, frozen moment: two women who were once the best of friends and
now couldn’t even manage to acknowledge each other’s existence. S. kept her head down, gaze on the sidewalk. The moment passed. I could
have reached out, tapped her on the arm. But I didn’t. As my breath
slowed, I began again the conversation I’d played out in my head dozens
of times over the years.This has been so silly, I wanted to say. No, that wasn’t quite right. I’m sorry. This was certainly true. Can we try again?
I wasn’t sure either of us would want that. Too much had happened in
the intervening years. Children had grown up. Loved ones had died. We
were no longer young. How are you? There it was, the truth of
it. I wondered how S.’s life had unfolded. I wondered if she was happy.
If her marriage was still strong, her children thriving. How her work
was going. How are you? I watched as she slowly receded into the rush hour crowd. This is a story about the stupid, unnecessary loss of a friendship.
About stubbornness, rigidity, pride and emotional stinginess. About the
way misunderstanding and distrust, if left untended, can sprout like
tangled weeds in a garden, choking what is beautiful and true at its
very root. It is a story about the way we are often too hard on each
other. We expect too much, find fault too easily, forgive too little.
Most of all, this is a story about regret. S. and I met at an artists’ colony in Saratoga Springs, New York. I was a
young writer, she was a young painter, and we recognized in each other a
shared sensitivity and a host of the usual neuroses that haunt creative
types (guilt! shame! hypochondria!), all tempered by a fun-loving
streak. Our friendship wasn’t one of those fast and furious romances,
marked by quick intimacy and oversharing. Ours was more of a simmering,
rich stew. We were careful. Neither of us gave herself away too quickly.
But as with the best of stews, there was a deepening, a mingling of
flavors, a textured warmth. We shared our histories with each other—our
complicated relationships with various family members, our romantic
travails, our secret sorrows. We laughed together over endless cups of
coffee. We showed each other our work in early form—my manuscripts, her
drawings and sketches—in what is perhaps the ultimate measure of trust. I
remember one sunny Sunday morning when, in despair about a structural
problem in my third novel, I spent hours on the phone with S., sorting
it out. That book, I think it’s not an exaggeration to say, would not
have existed in the world without her. I thought I would know S. forever. Isn’t that what we think of our BFFs?
When S. got engaged, I threw her a bridal shower in my apartment. When
my mother died, S. came each day to the shivah and quietly held my hand.
When I married my husband in a wedding that was closer to an
elopement—we invited only 18 guests—S. and her husband were there. I
still have a black-and-white photograph of them from that day: S. in a
pretty dress and denim jacket, her arms thrown around her handsome
husband, her face lit with joy for me. When S. needed an academic job, I
recommended her to the university where I taught. When my son was born,
she was one of the first people to show up at the hospital. And when he
soon became perilously ill, it was S. I called from the stoop of the
doctor’s office, petrified and weeping. If I had projected our friendship into the future, I would have imagined
us growing older together, sharing the stresses of parenting teenagers,
dancing at our children’s weddings, celebrating our successes, mourning
our losses, holding each other tenderly through this journey, this
lifetime. If our friends are the family we choose, then wouldn’t it
stand to reason that our old friends must be treasured? And yet so many
friendships fall apart over the pettiest resentments. A friend is always
late. Another friend forgets our birthday. Or doesn’t show up at our
holiday party. We hold our dear friends to standards we couldn’t
possibly live up to ourselves. And then, inexplicably, in a flash of
self-righteous indignation, a friend for life becomes a stranger. There were dark undercurrents in my friendship with S. Aren’t there
always? Life had its way with both S. and me, as life tends to do. Her
third child had some developmental delays. My son’s illness was a long
and scary chapter that left me raw and vulnerable. Our careers took
different directions. I sold a book for a significant amount of money.
S. struggled to find a gallery to show her work. I moved with my family
from Manhattan to the New England countryside. S. and her family
decamped to Brooklyn. It was harder to find the time to laugh over
coffee, or pore over drawings and manuscripts, or dig into the meaty
truth of our lives. The years were churning by. Our kids were toddlers,
then middle schoolers. Small insults accrued. S. had always been a more private person than I.
She had a more depressive nature and tended to hide out, not answering
her phone. When I’d call and leave messages on her voice mail, I had the
sneaking suspicion that she was screening calls and not picking up. I
began to take it personally. There were other, larger insults. S. was
diagnosed with stage 0 breast cancer, and she broke this news to me via
an email that read “Bad News” in the subject line, and then “I have
cancer” in the text. Receiving the news in an email stunned me. I picked
up the phone instantly and called her, but she didn’t answer. I covered
her academic classes while she was in the throes of treatment, but I
didn’t go to the hospital to keep her company. I didn’t know the
protocol. She was my first friend facing cancer of any kind, and I
didn’t know that I would be welcome, even needed, at the hospital. Her
reserve deepened, and I had the sense that she was quietly, privately
disappointed in me. I was quietly, privately stung and hurt by her. I
would find myself reaching for the phone, then hesitating. She probably won’t answer anyway was my bitter thought. One morning, I lost it. I wrote S. a snippy, mean-spirited email. I
didn’t pick up the phone or ask her to get together. Instead, I made the
mistake of hiding behind my laptop keyboard for an important, emotional
communication. I think now of S. opening that message from me and being
shocked by its tone. Within minutes, she had fired off a response,
calling my note passive-aggressive in the extreme, and she was right. I
saw it immediately—that I’d screwed up by writing her the way I had—and I
wanted to apologize, to fix things between us. This time I picked up
the phone and called. Naturally, she didn’t answer. Our friendship, left unnourished for far too long, snapped like an old
dry twig. A decade has passed since that impulsive, fateful flurry of
hurt feelings and anger. S. and I have never spoken again. When mutual
friends ask me what happened, I have no satisfactory answer. There was
no terrible betrayal, no deceit, no malicious intent. Rather, there were
two proud, sensitive women not yet old enough to understand that what
existed between them—however imperfect—was something irreplaceable. I’ve made peace with the fact that S. and I are not likely ever to make
up. I’ve told myself that I’m better off without her, that beneath her
diffident nature she had issues with me—perhaps envy, perhaps
disapproval—that were at the root of her distance. But who among us
hasn’t felt a flash of envy toward a friend or a moment of secret
disapproval? What’s required to keep a lifelong friendship, well,
lifelong is a willingness to forgive each other our humanness. What
would have happened if I had shown up at S.’s door and gently but
clearly told her she’d hurt my feelings? What would have happened if she
had done the same? You didn’t come to the hospital. You never answer your phone. Sometimes I don’t think you care about making time for me. I wish you had let me get closer to you. I’ve learned a great deal from the loss of my friendship with S. I’ve
learned not to allow hurt feelings to fester. The strongest friendships
are ones that have withstood the test of confrontation. It isn’t easy, I
know. Our voices shake. Our palms grow damp. Our hearts beat a little
faster. But when we tell our friends the truth of our hearts—even when
it’s scary, especially when it’s scary—we are allowing ourselves to be seen and known. Once in a while, I’ll notice two young women walking down the street
with arms linked, or at a bar, heads bent together in deep conversation.
Hold on to each other, I want to tell them like some crone who has been
around long enough to recognize the mistakes she’s made. Maybe you’ll
grow in different directions. Maybe you’ll even grow apart. You won’t
like the way she sends back food in a restaurant. Or the way she’s
always cold and needs an extra sweater. You don’t need to like each
other all the time. Just show up. Tell the truth. And be kind. If you’re
lucky, someday you’ll be two old ladies who have stuck by each other
all their lives, come what may.
1/9/16
1/8/16
1/7/16
The Seven Miracles of Mindfulness:
by Thich Nhat Hanh
1. To be present and to touch deeply our surroundings, including the blue sky, a blade of grass, or a loved one's smile.
2. To be able to be aware of our surroundings, so we can see the sky, the grass, and our loved ones more deeply.
3. To nourish the object of your attention with your full awareness.
4. To relieve others' suffering.
5. To look deeply into the true nature of self and others.
6. Understanding ~ if we're mindful of the present moment, we can see deeply and things become clear. With understanding, the desire to relieve suffering and give love will awaken within us.
7. Transformation ~ with mindfulness, we touch the healing and refreshing aspects of life in us and around us and begin to transform the suffering in ourselves and in the world.
1/6/16
I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.
~ Rilke
1/5/16
1/4/16
1/3/16
My Gift To You!
Please join our community 2016 intention circle:
Saturday, 1/9/16
1:30 pm
Studio 508
RSVP
What is an Intention:
Saturday, 1/9/16
1:30 pm
Studio 508
RSVP
What is an Intention:
An intention is a positive thought about what you want or need to manifest in your life at this specific time in your journey.
An intention is an energy pattern you transmit vocally or by thought or both.
Intentions are not New Year's Resolutions.
Intentions can relate to ~ your health, mental state, work life, love life ~ anywhere you would like to consciously focus.
An intention is an energy pattern you transmit vocally or by thought or both.
Intentions are not New Year's Resolutions.
Intentions can relate to ~ your health, mental state, work life, love life ~ anywhere you would like to consciously focus.
1/2/16
You would probably prefer not to look at some parts of your life, but to ignore the areas of life that are uncomfortable to look at is not a good idea. If we protect any aspect of our life from the practice of attention, the habituated patterns connected with that part of our life absorb the energy of practice and gradually take over our lives. We become what we don't dismantle.
~ Ken Macleod
12/31/15
12/30/15
12/29/15
signs, symbols and omens:
Pay close attention to the animals that are appearing in your life, whether they show up out of the blue or often - they are communicating with you. They carry important messages. This year I moved from an acre of wildlife wilderness on the Willamette river to an urban setting with concrete surroundings instead of dirt, water, sky, tree's, seals, bald eagles and birds. I am blessed to have a very small square terrace that came with my new digs. I didn't expect this new chapter of my life to be about nature, especially after departing the most beautiful natural surroundings imaginable. But oh what a wonderful surprise - I am sharing my tiny, terraced space with an abundance of hummingbirds! Lots and lots of hummingbirds - way more than I experienced living on the river. In animal totem, spiritual symbolism and language, here's what these beautiful creatures are here to teach me:
Hummingbird
"Sorrow and worry have no place in your life, as Hummingbird’s message is one of absolute joy. The hummingbird’s darting movements, flashes of brilliant reds and greens, and unmistakable whirring sound are all guaranteed to bring a smile to the face of even the most stern and unfriendly people. As a totem, the Hummingbird also symbolizes accomplishing your goals, but having the proper amount of rest to do so. If life has been difficult lately, know that joy is flying your way. The Hummingbird’s cycle of power is daytime."
12/27/15
12/26/15
The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light.
For a time
I rest in the grace of the world,
and am free.
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