Staying Childlike.

Played around with a fun data doodle today. Made with Paper by WeTransfer.

On the last day of the Esalen retreat last month, we were asked to share a word. Something that wove all our layered and textured experiences together into a single sentiment. Something that captured the essence- or rather, our essence. We went around in a circle. Some words were “embodied” and “grateful” and “free.”

Then it was my turn.

Childlike, I said, with a smile.

Since returning, I have embodied all the activities that my younger self loved. I’ve danced. Done backflips in the swimming pool. Rollerskated. Rocked a bright pink shirt and watermelon earrings instead of my usual black and gold combination. Said hello to random strangers on the street. Rode my bike just for the pure joy of being on two wheels and feeling the sun on my face.

I care less about acting my age because now I’m focused on acting my spirit.

My helmet arrived for tomorrow’s skate park adventures! Made with Paper by WeTransfer.

Ursula Le Guin wrote, “The creative adult is the child who survived.” By embracing my childlike parts, l’m more free and open to receive ideas and connect the dots for my book.

I’m intentionally spending more time doing the activities my 9-year-old self loved to do, while honoring my 90-year-old self and the contribution she wants to make in the world. I enjoy dancing in between these spaces- swirling, spinning, smiling.

The Abundant Universe of Possibility.

Esalen, Big Sur

Sometimes I catch myself swimming in a pool of other people’s goals and metrics to measure my success. To protect myself from burnout and feeling claustrophobic within a constructed framework created by society, I remind myself that I can create a new frame of reference. Widen the aperture. Zoom out. Suddenly I am catapulted from a constricted world of measurement into the abundant universe of possibility.

I carry this into my coaching practice. Why swim only in the pool of measurements- weight, inches, ounces, grams, calories- when there is an ocean of possibility that exists just beyond those simplified metrics. Higher energy levels, restful sleep, deeper connections, clearer thinking, a zest for life. Suddenly, we awaken to the possibilities available to us within wellness. It’s from this expansive and abundant new perspective that true motivation and lasting change can occur.

Keep the Channel Open.

It is around 7:30pm. I can’t be sure because I’m not looking at the clock. I am in the middle of a group meditation, seated on a blue cushion, legs crossed in front of me. The sun is almost setting and I am trying to focus on feeling my breath move down my energy centers. The kids outside are screaming and chasing each other around on their scooters with their Superman capes.

I inhale deeply. And then I see the images. Clearly. Consecutively. Telling a story. Like comic book squares. I feel tiny tears form in the corner of my eyes and slowly slide down my cheeks. I focus on our meditation teacher but see these pictures in my mind’s eye. Downloading. They have chosen me to bring them to life.

It is 8pm, and obediently I fumble for my watercolor paper. I sketch out the pictures I’d been shown by some higher source in the past half hour. I make every effort to turn down the judging part of my brain that tells me I should wait until tomorrow when I have more energy. It’s hard to do a good job of drawing and painting the sequence after an incredibly long day. But I ignore that voice- it’s Resistance, who is always complaining and telling me that my work isn’t good enough, or too silly, or irrelevant.

But for my three friends and colleagues who recently lost their fathers in the past two weeks, it IS relevant. This message is for them. I sent my friend the original when she asked if it could be printed. Mailing it to her was one of the most rewarding contributions I made last week.

There is a life force, a vitality, an energy, that flows through each of us. We are all different, with our own voices and perspectives and ways that we see the world. This expression is as unique as your fingerprint. If you block this creative energy, it will never exist through any other medium. It simply cannot come into this world. It isn’t up to us to judge how good or valuable or relevant it is in comparison to other people’s art. It is our job to create. To be a creative conduit. To keep the channel open.

Injecting Magic Into the Mundane.

Big Sur offers minimal to no phone reception, which provides adequate time off the grid and a rather full voicemail box.

In the past, whenever I’d check my voicemail, I’d experience a wave of anxiety. Whatever long-form message couldn’t be communicated into a text often required work on my part- a request involving extra time and energy, needing to provide information, set up a future meeting or the worst- “Please call me back when you have a chance.'“ As an introvert, this felt exhausting, and I’d often delay checking and listening to voicemails for these reasons.

At the start of 2022, I changed my voicemail greeting and added a simple, “If you’d like, feel free to share something you’re grateful for.”

This changed everything. Checking my voicemails soon became a delight, as I listened to the random gratitudes of strangers and friends alike. They ranged from “I’m grateful I was able to go to the movie theater for the first time in two years and eat popcorn with Milk Duds” to “I’m stoked we got to hang out and I’m grateful I get to see you again next week.”

By inviting some magic into the mundane, I’ve transformed my relationship with a task I previously despised. Now when I check my voicemail, I’m curious, excited, and filled with joy, experiencing the gratitude of someone else and sharing their special magical moments.

Think about the parts of life that you avoid or naturally detest. How can you invite a spark of magic?

You may be pleasantly surprised.

Call me. And if I don’t pick up, leave a voicemail with something you’re grateful for. It’s a win-win for both of us. And I promise I’ll call you back and we’ll swim in gratitude together.

Healing Salves.

In my element. Esalen, Big Sur.

“In many shamanic societies, if you came to a medicine person complaining of being disheartened, dispirited, or depressed, they would ask one of four questions: When did you stop dancing? When did you stop singing? When did you stop being enchanted by stories? When did you stop finding comfort in the sweet territory of silence?

Where we have stopped dancing, singing, being enchanted by stories, or finding comfort in silence is where we have experienced the loss of soul. Dancing, singing, storytelling, and silence are the four universal healing salves.”

— Gabrielle Roth

Poetry As a Pathway For Healing.

What started as an invitation to share a new spoken word poem on grief turned into an opportunity to facilitate a group poetry writing session as a path for healing. I’ve never done anything like this before, but I was moved to use poetry as a creative outlet that members could experiment with.

I offered a prompt as a starting point: What’s one memory that stands out to you, or a lesson that your loved one taught you? What’s something surprising that you learned from grief?

For me and so many others, poetry helps us access deeper feelings. My poems are a public way of ‘showing my work’ to the world as I try and figure out something in my life. It’s my way of saying, “Here’s what I have so far, what about you?” My writing and sharing process has allowed me to make sense of grief and find beauty in what it shows me. If I sit with grief long enough, it turns into gratitude.

Poetry can be a pathway to help us thaw out and begin to feel again. Hearing the poems of each participant allowed us to ‘meet’ each other’s loved ones and get to know them and their special relationships. We shared memories and tears.

I never imagined that my ‘work’ and spoken word poetry- an art form that I love so much- could intersect in this way. But here we are.

I am deeply grateful. Today something shifted in me and I know (like a deep, deep knowing) that this is a seed for something much greater that can help assist others in their own healing journeys.

Now, I’m off to Esalen. I am excited to soak, share, learn, listen, connect, and commune with nature and like-minded healers and spiritual seekers.

I’ll see you on the other side. <3

The Doorway.

“It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak.”

— Praying, by Mary Oliver

Today marks the 1-year anniversary since my mentor and teacher transitioned out of this life. Not a day has gone by that I don’t think of him.

Sometimes life synchronistically aligns events to support our healing. I was graciously invited back to share a spoken word poem with a Grief and Loss group on my reflections from the last year navigating life with grief now interwoven within its fabric.

I remember taking Mark on a hike deep in the Redwoods. As we crested the top of a climb, he stopped to catch his breath and slowly turned his body to each of the four cardinal directions. At each angle, he stood like a sturdy tower, hands open, smiling with his eyes closed. Listening. Tuning in.

“Each direction has a specific energy,” he explained. “It is important to take the time to feel the energy of each direction."

As I layer this story into a spoken word poem, rich with symbolism and nuanced meaning, I find myself crying and missing him and listening and patching these words together in the best way I know how. In the past year there were moments where I’ve felt discombobulated without my teacher, but somehow, miraculously, new teachers and role models have entered my life from all directions, each with a different and special energy.

The writing process has become a doorway that Mark has left ajar, inviting me to step into through poetry, where he has been waiting on the other side all along.

Connect with Story: April 28, 2022!

I’m excited to finally be performing an original spoken word poem on stage after almost two and a half full years!!! No performance is ever the same- spoken word is created from the alchemy of words and the energy of the audience in the room, so I am excited to see how these two uniquely merge and weave together next week.

A few of my friends are attending, so if you’re in the SF area next Thursday evening, I’d love to see you there as we celebrate words, community, and the power of storytelling.

I’ve spent the last month in small group writing workshops, writing in 20 minute chunks from a prompt, and immediately sharing the raw poem with a partner. It has been an immersive, intensively vulnerable, inspiring, and raw experience. I’ve since then flushed out a few poems, and gone on extremely long walks to embed the rhythm of the stanzas in my body. New words invite themselves in. Lines change. I love this process.

I am the poem, continuing to write herself.

Hope you can join.

Podcast Episode: Trust Your Gut- How Food Affects Mood

I hope you enjoy this conversation I had discussing the relationship between our gut microbiome, the foods we nourish ourselves with, and our cravings and mood. Stick around until the end to hear a spoken word poem that came to me the night before in bed (as most creative downloads do!) that I ended up scribbling on my Post-it note pad, and also the one habit I adopted in April 2020 that has literally transformed my energy levels and mental clarity.

Happy listening, and as always, thank you for being here and continuing to learn with me.

Ancora imparo.

Favorite Feelings.

A few weeks ago, I walked into Letter Perfect in Palo Alto and saw a young woman thumbing through a stack of my cards while holding my Dim Sum cards and “Friends Pho-ever” stickers in her other hand.

The display of my cards when you enter Letter Perfect.

I tried my best to stay calm and collected and act professional with this perfect stranger, but I couldn’t contain my excitement.

I made those! Those are my cards and stickers!

She smiled so widely and touched my arm and said, “OMG! They're sooo cute! Look- I’m getting these too…I can’t wait to give these to my friends!”

I left the store GLOWING. It’s an incredible feeling to connect with the individuals who purchase your art and see the delight on their faces. I remember in 2017 I visited Dandelion Flower shop and spotted a customer buying a watercolored card I’d made. It was the first time I saw a stranger purchase my art.

I can only describe it as a warm, full feeling, where your heart feels like it’s doubled in size and your entire body is vibrating with energy. When I left Letter Perfect, I stood in the street and said, “This is one of my FAVORITE FEELINGS.”

Later that night, I thought about other “Favorite Feelings” I love, and this led to the creation of a side passion project. This experience made me curious to know what some of my friends’ favorite feelings are. In the past few weeks I’ve compiled some of their answers, and here’s what they’ve shared:

For this piece I gathered all my materials from my afternoon walk.

Alcohol ink on canvas. A contribution from my friend who is a hospice nurse and death doula.

While sitting at a bar in 2016, I met a chef who owned a restaurant across the street. We’ve kept in touch all these years. When COVID hit, he had to pivot and it’s been fascinating to follow his journey. This was his contribution, and one of my favorites. Hearing his voice describe when his knife sings was one of the highlights in compiling these answers.

This project has been an exciting creative container to try new art forms. I’ve experimented with creating my first stop motion animation, musical themes, and acrylic paintings, all around the theme of embodying and doing artistic justice to these beautiful answers I’ve collected from people I love.

What are some of your favorite feelings?

Growing Up and Growing Out.

While getting my hair done today, an older man walked in and sat across from me. “It’s been two years since my last haircut- right before the world shut down.” He fluffed his salt and pepper hair, laughed, and looked at his stylist. “Who would’ve known… I have curly hair! I’ve shaved it for the last 40 years. Let’s clean it up but keep some of the curls. Turns out, I love them.”

I wonder how many parts of ourselves we’d naturally discover with enough time away from our usual routine. Parts that require breathing room and space to germinate and sprout. A latent love for writing, adventuring, making art, salsa dancing, building things from scratch. I hope we patiently give ourselves adequate time to grow out of our old selves. Again and again. Keeping the parts we want because we love them and they naturally reflect who we truly are.