A New Direction

It's a rainy Thursday afternoon. Julian, my son is downstairs playing at the neighbors. Ada, my one month old (today!) is sleeping with a cold, poor thing. I'm here writing to you, instead of watching Netflix, going through Facebook, cleaning the house, or a gazillion other things I could do. Having children has made me realize the preciousness of time, and how it's spent. I started to understand this with Julian, it became clearer during our three month trip to India, and now with the birth of Ada, it's smacking me in the face daily. Time is precious. We think we have so much of it, but we don't. My kids are growing so fast - yes even Ada - how is it possible a little over a month ago I was very pregnant awaiting her arrival and today she is a month, looking so different already than the newborn I gave birth to? I've noticed how easy it is for me to waste time - to rush to get things done, like cooking, or laundry or whatever so that I can "have time" to do something else, like enjoy my kids, and then the day is gone. Isn't that funny? Rushing through activities, barely present with them so we can "have time" and then when we finally "have time" we are too tired or the time has passed. I keep saying soon I will do something nice for my husband, Ian, he's so great to me and such a good father and how did I get this lucky... only to have the days and weeks go by and then it's a birthday or a holiday to remind me to do something special . I say today, I'm going to take care of myself, do some home yoga practice, try to cook that new healthy dish, and again a week goes by before it happens. Granted, I am quite busy. Sometimes I just can't get to it, with two kids to care for. But honestly, if I managed my time better, I could get to a lot. Or at least I'd have my choice of what to get to, what to do. This period for me, since I stopped teaching yoga last November has been the longest I've gone without working... um ever! I've always been someone who felt the need to DO. To accomplish. I've realized in this space of not doing for 6 months that one, I'm still doing a lot, and two, the need to DO was more centered on what others would think of me if I did do NOT, so to speak. And truly my judgment of myself if I was not doing. I was thinking the other day how I would love to get my second sleeve, my other arm tattooed and a voice goes, how can you do that? You aren't working or earning an income right now. And honestly I'm not sure when I will. I told Ian I wanted to just be a Mom for awhile (as if there is such a thing - to JUST be a Mom) and he supports me fully on that. I think the piece that has kept me from fully embracing it is that one, deep down I don't believe I deserve all this - that I can this blessed to have a loving and supportive husband, kind I only dreamed of, and two amazing gorgeous kids, and a lovely community to be a part of and share in - yeah Somerville! - and to just enjoy it all. People will tell me that's so silly... how can you believe that? But what can you do... we all often have these long held beliefs that however silly or whoever tells us it shouldn't be there... fact is, it's there. And for me it's coming up so strong these days as I lead the life I've only dreamed of, but not always fully in it, fully enjoying it. So I'm being JUST a Mom, knowing Ian will not be working on the farm come October (he's been working on an organic farm since May) and wondering what our lives will look like then. Living on the edge, but honestly, it's the only place to be these days for me. I tried to have that safety net underneath me and it never worked. And living the other way, on the edge so to speak, has left me the most alive, the most happy, able to have the life I want... so shouldn't I trust it will all work out? Back to this new direction... I was thinking as I ponder self care, self compassion and love and what I may want to do for paying work if I need or want to be earning again... and the best thing I could come up to address all of these is to write. I wrote from as long as I can remember. Journals at 8, 9, 10... first poem at 11... so I'm changing this blog to be about motherhood, and life. That's where I resonate these days. Happy reading!

Ada Grace, May 5, 2014

Here I write you, a woman who has conceived, grown and delivered two babies into the world. The journey of bringing them into the world was vastly different. One is neither good nor bad. I am grateful for both births, both my children, both the life experiences that got me here, today, the mother of Julian James, a little over two, and Ada Grace, a month on June 5. Julian's birth in many ways was everything I didn't want. Not Julian of course - I couldn't wait to hold him in my arms. His birth and everything that followed was painful, turned my life upside down, shook me to my core. Ada's birth was everything I could possibly want and envision in a birth and has completed a circle so to speak. She is half sister to Julian, and to Ananda, my step son. She is a part of me, of Ian, of Julian, of Ananda. She completes a painful and at the same time joyful and healing journey to get here. So let me tell you about my amazing HBAC - homebirth after Cesarean section. Sunday May 4 I was 41 weeks 4 days. We met with our midwife that day, Barbara, even though we weren't due to see her until 42 weeks because I was feeling anxious, the more and more I was past due. So many emotions were coming up for me once we hit 40 weeks and went past. With Julian, things were great till 40 weeks. Then as we went late, blood pressure fluctuated, getting a bit high, and I became scared of induction. I tried many things with Julian to get him to come - cohosh, walking every day, acupuncture, etc. I was induced with him at 41 weeks, 4 days. This time around with Ada once past 40 weeks my BP was perfect. I let my vulnerability show, my tears come, my emotions run high to low and back again daily. I told myself I could try some things if I wanted but as my midwife reminded me constantly, I didn't have to do anything. I DIDN'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING. That was and is the biggest lesson I've been taught by Ada thus far. As someone who's always felt the need to DO, she is showing me that in doing I lose my vulnerability and become hardened. In being, in allowing, I become softened. I told myself my body knew what to do, as did my baby. Baby would come when ready. So when we met at 41 weeks, 4 days my midwife shared the risks of going past due, and gave us a form we could sign at 42 weeks indicating we on board to continue with pregnancy as planned - homebirth, staying the course, no induction as long as baby and me were healthy. Another thing she told me at this visit was that if I did decide to be induced at a hospital, it was likely the hospital wouldn't let me try for a VBAC since I was almost 42 weeks and instead do a repeat c section. That solidified my surrender, I believe. I knew then I was staying the course if baby and I were healthy, whether it be 42 weeks or 44. I felt at peace after she left. I went to restorative yoga that night at Bow Street Yoga, the studio I felt the most supported at this late in my pregnancy through their restorative and yin classes, and small intimate studio environment. My husband stayed home with my son, Mom who had been in town for about 3 weeks helping us get ready (and assuming Ada would be here by now!) and my husbands father and stepmother who were visiting from CA - also perhaps expecting baby to have arrived! I came home feeling very relaxed and to quite a meal that my husbands stepmother had cooked - mussels in butter and garlic, delicious chicken and fresh salad... I was quite hungry for the protein so I ate a decent amount. We ate on our porch, had a little wine, and shared conversation. I was feeling a bit crampy physically but nothing any different than what I had been experiencing in the last couple weeks. I put Julian to bed, and by the time I got done my husbands stepmom and father had left for their hotel, Ian and my Mom had cleaned up. My mom was a bit sad as she had to leave tomorrow and had hoped to be here for the baby's birth. She would be back in a couple weeks but sad to miss the baby being born. As I lay down for bed and to cuddle with my husband, I noticed I wasn't feeling very well. I had nausea, chills and crampiness, along with diarrhea. I attributed it to the dinner - perhaps the seafood I never eat or the wine? I soon noticed the crampiness was turning into contractions that would begin at my low back and circle around to my pelvis. They felt different, a bit stronger - I could certainly talk through them but I couldn't ignore them either. I told Ian maybe this was early labor, but I wasn't sure. I decided to try and get some sleep. Sleeping was tough. The contractions were not stopping - had been going since about 11pm. I still wasn't convinced I was in labor. About a week previous, when we were picking up cohosh from a friend of Ian's and going to the grocery store, I had contractions that lasted about a couple hours, and then went away. I had my hopes up then, and was disappointed, so certainly wasn't going to get my hopes up now! About 3 or 4 am, I was up again with diarrhea and finding it increasingly difficult to sleep. I decided to time the contractions and they were about 8 to 9 min apart. I was starting to get excited but knew this could take some time, so best to try to rest. I lay down and tried to sleep. When Julian woke around 6am, I got up, and told my Mom I thought I was in early labor. She was of course ecstatic and said she'd call my Dad a little later to let him know she's not leaving today. I continued to time the contractions and noticed they had slowed down a bit, 12 to 15 min apart. I was disappointed and feeling down. Losing sleep over nothing? I tried to remind myself even if it didn't lead to a baby being born today, my body was getting ready! Ian woke and I had some breakfast - I was hungry - and started to go about our day. I called my midwife and she said sounds like early labor, and to call her when contractions were about 5 min apart. The contractions were still coming but were spaced out a bit. It was a beautiful morning so Ian Julian and I decided to go for a walk. I remember Julian was wearing his red sox baseball hat and looking so cute. We walked down our block, crossed the street and returned. Julian was walking so we took our time. I noticed the contractions started to pick up again in intensity. I think I had thought walking could get labor started... now I don't know if that's true, but while in labor, it definitely seems to get things moving! We spent the rest of the day just doing our usual stuff, and Ian's Dad and stepmom came over to cook a lasagna for dinner later. They all said I probably wasn't going to be eating it, but I think I was still in disbelief I was in actual labor and going to see my baby soon! I hung out on the porch a lot, breathing through each contraction, just trying to rest, playing with Julian, enjoying the beautiful day and the smells of food being cooked in our home. I even put Julian down for his nap around noontime reading Go Dog Go despite my contractions being a little more intense. I would pause to breath through them and he would say what you doing mama and I'd tell him I was having a contraction. He went to sleep, I thought it would be good to try and sleep, but was feeling hungry and antsy so got up to have some yogurt. I was starting to get the sense this was the real deal and I wouldn't be hungry again soon. I was also drinking a lot of coconut water to stay hydrated. By this time, contractions had been going on for about 13 hours. I went back to the porch and found myself needing to be on hands and knees more. I timed my contractions and they were now going between 5 min and 7 min apart. Ian kept saying to call our midwife but I was like let's wait till they are 5 min apart for an hour. He insisted we call her. I didn't want to call her too early. He called, she asked how I was doing, said everything sounds good, let me know when they are 5 min consistently. Around when Julian woke from his nap, contractions were now going from 5min to 3min apart. We called our midwife and she said she was on our way. We also called a fellow mom and homebirther who offered to photograph our birth. Julian was going to his Dad's for the night, which worked out perfectly, because right around when he left at 5pm active labor was definitely beginning. I could no longer talk through contractions. In between I was smiling, chatting, but during, I was focused. I was on hands and knees on the porch with Ian putting pressure on my sacrum. Midwife arrived and began to get things set up as she needed, leaving us to ourselves, unless we needed her. I found during this time things were getting intense, but I was handling it with breath, and Ian's help. Our photographer arrived and I thought let's try for one more walk as it was getting close to 6 and I knew soon enough it would be dark and if I wanted to get outside, it would be harder. We stepped outside and I literally made it down the steps, and said oh no, this walk ain't happening, and we went back up the driveway. We stayed outside for a bit, getting some fresh air. We made it back in and I wanted to go in the bathroom sometime around this point. There is something about laboring on the toilet that is calming to me! I went in with Ian and began to cry. My midwife knocked and asked if she could come in. I said ok and I said things are starting to get intense. Is the tub ready? I had asked them to get the birthing tub ready sometime while laboring on the porch. The tub was about ready. We asked everyone but Ian, I and my midwife to be in the room with the tub. My midwife called her other two midwifes to come assist at this point. This is where I really lost touch of who was around me. The contractions were intense and required all of my focus! The tub felt amazing when I first stepped in. The water on my sacrum which was experiencing a lot of pressure at this point. I wasn't checked for dilation at anytime during my labor which was so welcome, but I would say this time is the time I was probably dilating the last 3 or 4 cm. Transition, as they call it. I had experienced up to 5 or 6 cm with Julian naturally, no medication, and where I was at in the tub felt more intense. I started to get very vocal. I had told my Mom I didn't think I'd be very vocal as I'm not a loud person or boisterous person, but man, the sounds that came out of me during this time, were downright primal! Transition is no joke. It's the shortest part of labor but feels the longest. Just like when I ran a marathon - the last 6 miles are the shortest part of the marathon but are a real bitch! I thought about our neighbors downstairs or those around me for like two seconds when vocalizing - I truly didn't' care! I was in the zone. I was finding it near impossible to breathe through these contractions as they were one on top of the other and longer in duration. The pressure on my sacrum and pelvis was excruciating as the baby's head made its final descent. I felt nauseous, delirious. It seemed like it would never end. There were moments I'd get a break in between contractions and I'd rest my head on the edge of the tub and I think fall asleep. I felt at peace, filled with serenity and quiet. And then I'd be gripped by another one. My midwife was a huge support during this time, as was Ian. I was holding my midwifes hands a lot and leaning into her from the edge of the tub and Ian was either rubbing my back or simply there, which was more than enough. I was crying at times. I felt defeated, as it seemed like the baby's head would never crown. My midwife kept saying You are doing it, when I'd tell her I can't do this! I thought for sure I'd end up back at the hospital with a c section or something worse. Ian says I started to say I am doing it, though I don't remember. I felt such a strong urge to push at this point and my midwife said I could start to bear down. Well, I did, and each time it felt like I was pushing the baby out but I think I was simply helping to dilate more. My midwife said I could try and feel the head and when I put my fingers inside, I could feel the head. The baby hadn't crowned but I was close! I was feeling quite exhausted and just wanting it to stop. Around this time my midwife suggested I get out of the tub and the thought of moving was damn near impossible but I had the feeling she was right. I had been feeling for awhile I needed to move but couldn't formulate the words in my pain and exhaustion. I had been in the tub for about 2 hours so it was close to 830pm. I had been laboring for 21 hours. They started to help me move and that transition started some intense contractions. They moved me to the bedroom and I got onto the bed on hands and knees for a bit. They suggested I lay on my back to help baby crown and the thought of it seemed impossible but I knew they knew what they were doing and hadn't failed me yet. So I lay down and pulled my knees in and baby started to crown pretty soon after. The ring of fire they talk about is no joke. Such an intense stretching feeling in my vagina! They gave me a mirror to look and I was amazed - there was the head! It didn't look like anything I thought the head would look like. It was pretty bloody, and kinda pointed, which I guess is the skull plates overlapping so baby's head can fit through. I knew we were close though, and that was enough. They suggested the birthing stool and I said sure. I sat on that stool and in no time at all, one maybe two pushes the head came out, and BOOM her body slid out right after. It was quick! The effect of gravity I suppose. Midwifes caught her and gave her to me and I was in amazement. I did it! Here was my baby! At 952pm after almost 24 hours of labor, about an hour of pushing, all natural. We were taking it all in not knowing boy or girl yet, while people outside the bedroom door said is it a boy, a girl? Finally I held her up and said, I think it's a girl! Ada Grace. She was here! She was sounding a bit stuffy/sticky in her lungs which made them a little concerned but said because she came out so quick after her head came, it was a bit of a shock to her. She went on me skin to skin immediately to warm her up, and after about 5 or 10 min clearing out some fluid, she nursed like a champ. We lay there, with daddy next to us, in my own bedroom, in my home - I couldn't believe I had just birthed a baby in my bedroom - with her cord still attached for quite some time. The placenta came out quickly and sat in a bowl next to me. The placenta was HUGE! With such a thick cord. What an amazing thing to have grown and nourished my baby. And Ada - to have grown her from the size of a poppy seed! A pregnancy with not a single ultrasound, no testing, 3 months in India with no check ups... and here she was PERFECT in every way. They checked to see if I tore and were amazed my perineum was intact, just a small tear on my labia which took 3 or 4 stitches. It's been a month and that day is fading as the days flow into one other as a mommy of two but I am so grateful for my memories, and the photos as well. It was a day that was perfect in every way. I told Ian it reminds me of our wedding day - a day that was perfect in every way. To have such days, what blessings.

Grieving is a part of transitioning

It's been almost two weeks since we've been back from India. For those of you who don't know, my husband, son and I spent three months in India, most of that time in one place, simply living. In some ways it feels like we were just there, and in other ways we feel further away, and more settled here. The integration period has been tough, especially for Julian and myself. It showed up at first as physical ailments - yeast infection for me, sleep schedule totally off (Julian was up from 1230am to 7am one night!), diarrhea for me, constipation for Julian, nasty colds for us with congestion that doesn't seem to end,throwing up... you name it, we've been through it in these two weeks! I think our bodies are starting to settle, and for me I'm noticing more emotions coming in. To live in one place for three months, in particular one town for almost 2 1/2 months, your body, your being are acclimated to that place. You leave that place, where you are very unplugged (I had no smart phone, checked my internet like every 2 or three days, walked everywhere and didn't drive a car), where it's 90 degrees and hot and humid to a place where it's 70 degrees cooler, you drive to get places especially when cold, you have a smart phone, internet at home, you can feel the energy of being plugged in, of a culture that's constantly go go go. And you took three flights to get back, one of which was 16 hours... needless to say, it's taken some time. It's still taking some time. And did I mention I'm almost 8 months pregnant? Getting back on my yoga mat as a student has been a great help. I've taken 4 classes in these two weeks (would have taken more but we spent 5 days visiting family in NY and PA) and just breathing and moving my body or being still and being in community has helped immensely to ground me again, to let me feel what I need to feel, and to continue this process of integration back to our home, our life here. In many ways it helps that our lives here are in transition. For one, a new baby is coming the end of April (that's my due date at least) My husband is starting his own business and looking for a new job. I am not working, taking a break from teaching or working in general - something I have done, well never. Not before I left for India at least. And my son will be two this Saturday and he is such a little boy now - talking in full sentences, making me laugh and smile and giving me new challenges as well. I think because we are in transition we can't see what the future will look like, but we're living our way into it. And that helps after leaving the lives we had behind to take this trip. We are different yet we are the same. I've never felt more close to my family and vulnerable in a way that allows me to really lean into them - to put them first - to realize how grateful I am for them - my husband and son in particular, but my extended family as well. We are all more mature in a way that allows us to be more ourselves. More of myself means things I perhaps haven't shown before or allowed to unfold. Mainly my vulnerability. I was realizing tonight that the longer we spend here the more we'll forget of our time in India, in particular those 2 1/2 months we spent in Varkala making friends and sharing our lives daily with these people. I think Ian and I will remember more than Julian, but we too will forget names, faces, sounds, smells. Julian mentioned a person the other day who worked at our hotel in India and Ian and I thought "Oh yeah, him" meaning we had already forgotten somewhat, but perhaps Julian had not. It's possible he will remember more than we think but over time I do think it will fade. I found myself grieving over all this knowledge because in a sense it's like they have all died. Now I'm an adult and I know that's not the case, and I can keep in touch with some folks over the internet thanks to technology today, but in a sense, they have died. We lived there for that length of time, grew close to many folks, and now we are gone, and they are gone. I wonder in Julian's mind if it is more like death since he doesn't know as we do in an adult sense they still exist there - in a childs mind it's often, here they were one day, gone the next. Children seem to handle this transition better than adults - with more acceptance - but I can't help wondering if he too misses them. I catch him saying their names sometimes or saying a place and I think he too is trying to find out where is my home, where do I belong. So for someone who was very ready to get back to the US and to colder temps (I am loving these honestly - I had a constant yeast infection the last month in India - just too hot, no AC and very pregnant!)I find myself grieving over the people and places gone, people and places I will probably never see again. I wonder if they too are grieving and if they too talk and remember us, in particular Julian - they have all told us they will never forget him. As we prepare for the new baby to arrive, I also am recognizing I am grieving in some ways the loss of my first child. Very soon it will never just be me and Julian. As wonderful as it will be to welcome the new baby into our family, it saddens me to know the time with my little man, just us, is ending. I've had so many moments shared with him, just him and I for some time too before Ian came into our life. I felt I had to grieve the loss of that time as I welcomed Ian into our life and we got married (that time of being a single Mom for 6 months) and now I feel I am grieving the loss of my time just with Julian. I'm also letting go of a lot of the pain that surrounded Julian coming into my life as I prepare to welcome a new baby, in a manner completely different than with Julian. With Julian, I had every test, ultrasound, watched every pound, taught all my classes till my due date, kept my regular practice up (scorpion and handstand at 8 months pregnant!), delivered in a hospital. With this baby, I have not been weighed, eat what I want and don't count the pounds, no ultrasounds or tests, no prenatal care for 3 months in India, and a yoga practice that's much more restorative and gentle and not teaching since about 4 or 5 months. I do feel it's the grieving that will allow me to live and love more, to enjoy and be grateful. I think for many of us we go through transitions, whether deemed positive or negative, it doesn't matter, and we don't allow ourselves to grieve. To grieve things ending to welcome new beginnings. To grieve what we have known, what we have held onto, what we will miss, to make space for what's new. Grieving to allow us to open up to what's out there for us. So I would say I'm in a period of grief. I'm allowing the tears, the memories to come, the stories. Unfortunately because it was just my family in India, they are the ones who know these stories the most, but I can share them with you too. I will hold and kiss my little man a little more over these next 8 weeks or so, be more attentive and present, and be the one to get up when he calls mama or needs me because I know soon I won't be able to do it every time he asks. Last night he woke around 4 and I had been sleepless and restless since about midnight. I got up and went to him and held him as he hugged me, gave me kisses and said "I love you mama" and spent the hour it probably took to get him to go back to sleep. I will miss this time with him. I look forward to reconnecting with friends I haven't seen in 3 months, students who may be surprised to see me on the other side, taking a class with them, teachers whose classes I am grateful for the support and energy as I go through this process. I may seem a bit more unplugged, a bit distant, but it's only to allow myself to grieve, to lean into my family, who has given and continues to give me so much. I love them with all my heart.

How did I get here?

Tomorrow is August 1. I found myself reflecting on the past year, and how last August marked the beginning of the most challenging time of my life thus far. And a year later, everything is so different. If you had told me last August, I'd be sitting here today in love, getting married in less than 2 months (Sept. 21!), taking a 3 month trip to India with my soon to be husband and son in less than 4 months... I might have told you you were crazy. But I might of also said anything is possible! So how did I get here, to be this happy, this blessed? well, for one, not thinking the work is over. And by work, I mean this spiritual journey, this thing called LIFE. Two, by being totally honest and to see myself through no filter. Three, through self compassion and a total and deep surrender, or softening. I think when we reach a place of joy and bliss after a period of deep suffering we may ask how did it happen, where did it all come together? And often we can't lay the pieces out or connect the dots completely but we can say it came together as a result of a life fully lived, of a life that has felt both deep joy and deep sorrow. I think there's also a recognition when we get to this place that the journey is happening, life is unfolding - daily. There's a magic and wonder to it all and there's no holding on or grasping for ground under our feet. In this place, there is immense freedom. You can't see what the future is going to look like - you can't get your hands around it - but you know it's going to be great. It's going to be for your highest good because you're in a place of deep and immense love. So I feel blessed I'm here. I'm blessed the pain is gone. I'm blessed the thing I have to deal with the most is simply allowing this happiness to be mine, cause it is. To simply soften and soften into that vulnerable spot in my heart. Many of you have been on this journey with me. I thank you for all your support and love. I look forward to sharing these happy moments with you, enjoying a life well-lived, and seeing where this adventure takes me!

Happy Mothers Day

Happy Mother's Day. Ah, the word mother. It conjures up different things for different people but I think it embodies qualities that exist on both sides of the coin - joy, pain, raw, tender, fierce, gentle, strong, weak. I think all of us should be grateful for our mothers. I don't say this because I am a mother. I say this because if we are grateful for our lives, and our ability to live and love as we choose, we should be grateful for our mothers. Without them, we wouldn't have had the initiation into this world. And we all choose our parents if you ask me. We choose them to learn some life lessons - tough ones at times. You could say you had a mother who did a great job, or you had a mother who did a terrible job, but we all had or have a mother who is doing the best job they know with the tools they've been given. I love being a mother. It is all I ever wanted, and more. I am discovering so many hidden gifts I didn't even know were possible. I loved my son from the moment I knew I was pregnant but my love for him has grown in leaps and bounds. When he was a newborn, there was constant demand and to be honest, I looked forward to a few hours away when I could take them! Now I still look forward to those few hours but I miss him so much more. He is a little person, with a personality, who gives me kisses and hugs, who tests my patience, who has an understanding greater than I ever thought possible for almost 15 months and who is so so happy and just in the mix of it all, loving and living life. He inspires me, he makes me laugh, he brightens my day and I value his presence in my life as the individual he is. That isn't to say we don't have our difficulties. We do. I'm able to look at them with more love these days. There's a me that's unfolding that's filled with so much grace these days. After the Boston bombings, I was so angry because of how vulnerable and raw and exposed I felt. I was so angry at the realization that this vulnerability also taps me into the truth that all I love, all whom I love, will be taken away from me someday. I will die or they will die. It fucking pissed me off to be honest. We know this to be true but do we ever really sit with it? We're always trying to grasp or push it away. Grasp in the sense of being needy, clingy suffocating those we love or pushing away in the sense of being aloof, distant, disconnected and cold to those we love. Now if we could just do neither of those things, and sit in the discomfort of this vulnerability, of the knowledge of everything changing, we would know gratitude. We would know happiness. We would know joy. And yes we'd know pain too. We'd know how these things exist side by side. I find myself in this in between place more and more and surprisingly not wanting to leave. This is the dream. When you wake up, you're dead. This phrase has been in my head a lot lately after reading this quote: "Whatever life takes away from you, let it go. When you surrender the past, you can live the dream that is happening right now." I am living an amazing dream. I have a beautiful son who fills my days with adventure and fun. This nice weather allows us to walk everywhere, discovering new people and places - we can walk to Davis Square, Union Square and about 6 or 7 playgrounds all within a mile or two! I have a fiance who is the man I have always dreamed of sharing my life with but wasn't sure he existed and here he is - in the flesh! I have yoga communities I love teaching and practicing in, I have friends I love sharing time with, I have a city I live in that takes me breath away and I have a wedding I am so excited for in September and a 3 month trip to India with my soon to be husband and son! Seriously, how fucking awesome is my life? I realize I have thought for a long time Ive practiced abundance but the truth is I was just scratching the surface. Real abundance is a complete faith in all being taken care of, in not wanting or needing anything more, in freely giving of what you have and another piece of it I am recognizing these days, in knowing when to say NO. I've been a yes, yes, yes girl and that's all good but when yes yes yes is not filling up my cup it's time to say no so I can create the space for that which nourishes me to come in. For love to flourish and grow. So I see my time ahead as one of less is more. Truly when someone asked me the other day what I did I told them I taught yoga, I liked to write but what I truly wanted to say to that question was "I am a mother" Cause to me, that is one hell of an important job and one that doesn't need any fillers or jargon to make it seem more important. Raising the next generation of members to this society, to this human race is damn important. If you ask me, the most important. My fiance gave me a beautiful card this mother's day that he made. It included a poem from Rumi that said Through love all that is bitter will be sweet Through love all that is copper will be gold Through love all dregs will turn to purest wine Through love all pain will turn to medicine A mother's love is the most special kind. Cherish it when you have it, nurture it in yourself if you are a mother, and if you don't have it, know that it exists and you can tap into it. It's a love that rests in that place of gratitude, of abundance, of knowing that this child, this child is more than enough. This child does not have to be anything more. Create that for yourself and you have felt the love of a mother.

There is no us and them

Wow. What a week. I feel as if I've been living my life in a dream - a bad dream. I'm sure many of us felt that way. Tonight we feel the end of this horror, but in many ways it's the beginning. I sit here tonight as I get ready to meditate with a heavy heart. I do not feel joyous one suspect in the Boston marathon bombing has been killed and the other captured. I feel instead very sad. Let me first say I do not take lightly the loss of the lives of Martin Richard, Krystle Campbell, Lingzi Lu and Sean Collier, nor the hundreds that were injured, the dozens who lost limbs or the thousands who have suffered trauma as they witnessed these events, lived in a city on lockdown as a suspect was hunted, or lived in a town where gunfights and heightened police presence dominated their day. I think many of us out there at one time or another have subscribed to the idea of there being an us and a them. Perhaps even right now. We sit in fear, judgment and disconnect. I know I have. I think that many of us also on the flip side, certainly in the yoga community but I am sure elsewhere too, have come to the conclusion that there is a universal source or ONE that we are all a part of, that we stem from. If we hold this to be true, then there can be no us and them. We are all joined as human beings on this planet. And if we believe that then we too are responsible when tragic events such as these happen. No, we did not plan this attack, or put the bombs together or place them or detonate them. I don't believe that any of us are cultivating a home based around terrorism and fear. But we do form a society. A society that stretches beyond our towns, beyond our countries, our borders to include the entire human race. We then share the same human wants and needs, the same suffering, the same hopes and dreams, the same loneliness of our own minds and pain. And every time we have acted in a way that breeds fear, that breeds judgment that is any way not compassionate or loving toward ourselves or another individual, then we too are responsible for perpetuating this feeling of disconnect and loneliness and this feeling of an us and them that keeps these events happening. I recognize there are political implications often, but I do believe that on a truly cellular level we are human, we can connect with whomever if we come from a place of seeing each other, of hearing one other, of feeling on an emotional level with one other. So yes I have a heavy heart. I am saddened that another tragedy like this has come to pass and it occurred in the place I've called home for 11 years. I'm sad that people will cheer and say nasty things about these men forgetting that they too are people, they too have families, parents who are hurting. I feel sad for all the loss that happened that day at the Boston marathon and people whose lives with never be the same. And I feel sad for all of us who will go on not sitting with this pain in our hearts, using anger and blame to cover it up, and soon another event like this will happen and we will again question why. It's time to wake up folks. I am including myself in this. It's time to take responsibility as ONE human race that we are. Community is needed. Connection is needed. I am looking to foster it wherever or however. I am opening up my home, my heart, my ears... you name it. Let's talk. Let's cry. Let's heal. We'll move forward with heavy vulnerable raw and beautiful courageous hearts. All my love Boston. All my love to you all.

We ebb and we flow

Ah post engagement bliss! How long does it last? It lasts until we let doubt step in again surrounding our fears of what we should or shouldn't do, what people think, what the future holds... So, it's been a rough couple weeks! I told my fiance last night... sometimes I just want to scream "Why the fuck did you ask me to marry you? Everything was going just fine!" Perhaps you can't relate to that statement, but I bet some of you can. He chose me! He chose me out of all the many many women in this world. And suddenly a voice inside me screams, WHY? Why would he choose me? And just like that I'm back in the pattern of not feeling worthy of love and belonging and I start to feel closed off. I don't sing out loud or dance around the house, I don't want to listen to music something I like to do, I don't want to have sex, I don't want to see friends, I don't want to teach or practice yoga, I just want to hide hide hide... Luckily I have here to write about it and thankfully my future husband will listen to anything at all I have to share or dish out - and you know what he tells me? I too think these thoughts. You aren't alone. You aren't crazy. I am engaged to a man my parents met the day after we got engaged. I am engaged to a man some of my friends have not even met yet or had a chance to really hang out with. So as one friend told me the other day, she had her reservations. I don't blame her. I don't blame any of you! It's very good off the mat yoga practice for me. I feel as if people are judging and questioning my choice to marry my fiance and perhaps they truly are - yet the person who is really judging and questioning myself is ME. And I tell you this as a girl who just got a huge tattoo (a full sleeve) all along my left arm!! A big tattoo? No biggie. Quit my job and teach yoga full time? No biggie. Surviving emotionally in the raising of my son on my own for 6+ months? No biggie. As Nike says, I just do it. I don't care what people think. Doing many of the self sufficient independent and sometimes off the wall outside the box things I have done comes easy to me. I am a passionate person! Yet choosing a partner for life who no one I am friends with knows that well, who I met in the most fated way, who is in many ways nothing like my family or the family I grew up with - that I struggle with. I struggle with being unconventional even though it's the only thing that makes me happy. I struggle with people who say when they hear of my engagement "Well that was fast" or people who say "You're going to have a long engagement, right?" We aren't by the way - we are getting married THIS September! I struggle with people who when we tell them of our plans after the wedding - to travel to India with Julian for 3 months Nov - Feb - "That's crazy! With the baby? You can't possibly be serious!" And the answer is, yes, we are serious. I struggle with putting the power behind my words, behind my actions and not getting swayed by that need for approval. I grew up wanting the approval of those I loved most, and trying so hard to please those around me. I grew up doing what I was supposed to do, what was expected, until I got to college where I *secretly* rebelled in all kinds of ways. I was not doing what I was supposed to be doing, but nobody knew - but me and my close friends. I kept doing what I was supposed to do - until I quit my job to teach yoga full time. Yoga when it came into my life in many ways was the start of me figuring out who I was and what I wanted. I will tell you this - I haven't figured it out fully. I still struggle sometimes daily to answer that question - what do I want? I know this. I want to be happy. I recognize that I am making choices to make me happy. I fully believe those around me also want me to be happy even if some of them aren't in my "yoga world" so to speak. The whatever that keeps me from my happiness lies in my palms only. So I honor my feelings. I honor that I get stuck on what Julian will ask as he gets older and knows his biological Mom and Dad aren't together and what I will tell him, what will his Dad tell him. I get stuck in that I don't feel fully resolved in the ending of our relationship because it was so sudden for me and how suddenly his Dad moved on and I feel there's a lot more to be said besides simply I'm not in love with you anymore but I see the truth in that statement and even if there was more to it would it even matter now? No. I get stuck in when people ask about my fiance and I and our relationship I can't exactly put into words what it is that makes him the man I want to marry (we're writing our own vows, so I hope to have a few more words by Sept!) but that I could speak to his actions - how he is the man who brought over food from his fridge as a gift when he first came to visit Julian and I on his own at our home, how he is the man who encourages me to tell him whatever I am thinking or feeling (I told him about my fear of him having a double chin when he gets older and how vain I feel to say that but I truly think it!) he is the man who said we should have a box in our home and a sign next to it that says need a dollar? take a dollar. have a dollar? leave a dollar. (and there's money in there folks) He is the man I meditate with before bed most evenings, who cooks and does the laundry and picks up around the house, who spends time with Julian painting, hanging out, playing music, who is authentic is his concern and compassion for others, who hung up a painting today that I mentioned Julian had scribbled all over and he said it's Julian's masterpiece! the man who reminds me to be gentle and at ease with myself the man who says yes we can travel to India for 3 months with a year and a half old and come back to the states and if our jobs our work doesn't look the same we'll figure it out... the man who believes I am enough. That being a mother and teaching yoga and just being me is enough. I know that it's me who doesn't always feel enough but he reminds me I am. So we ebb and we flow. And I can tell you this. When I am practicing yoga, on and off the mat, when I am in that state of bliss - of love and light - of namaste - he is the man I want to be with. I am enough. We are enough. There is nothing more. We are not going into marriage as a couple who's checked off the checklist so to speak - we are going into marriage challenged, and scared and blissfully happy. We are planning a wedding at the home he grew up in, in our bare feet, with a drum circle, BYOB (no alcohol), yard games like horseshoes and croquet, good local food, music, dancing, no bridal party, nothing fancy, just us, our friends, our family, a celebration. So we hope whoever comes is happy for us - cause otherwise honestly - stay home! You know I say that with love ;)