The first quarter of the year has completed, and one of the goals I kept is not buying any clothing, shoes, or accessories for the entire year. And somehow so far I have kept this up! Has it been difficult? Initially, yes. In January, I went to the visiting art exhibit Luna Luna, which was a display of carnival art pieces from the likes of Keith Haring, Salvador Dali, Jean Michel Basquiat. Of course, I wanted something to remember this exhibit by or prove I was there, and what better way to do this than a tee shirt or sweatshirt? But I turned it down. Another time, I went into a clothing store on a rainy day, as I waited for my Tesla to charge. I saw a white tee shirt that simply said the French word for yes “Oui.” I wanted it. I love simple tee shirts to wear for a season that goes with everything, but I knew buying this would be a slippery slope. If I made an excuse to purchase this, I would make an excuse to purchase other things. And I stuck to my goal.
Now it’s cloudy day in April, and as I walked Bella this morning along the seaside before the rain sprinkled, wearing my Dubai hat and an Mtv vintaged style tee shirt from Spain, yoga pants and socks from the UK, and my New Balances from America, I thought I love the clothes I do have. They tell stories about me , where I’ve come from, who I was, and who I am. If I allow myself the space of not adding more to my closet but simply using it, I can find joy in that which already exists in there. It’s a different type of appreciation I didn’t expect. It’s true that when we buy new items of clothing we want to “premiere” them and show them off, but when there are things that are loved that are rotated in and out, it brings a smile to my face.
There are other goals I am shooting to accomplish, but for some reason this one has been prominent and a priority. And it’s tangible. There are values I am living by which include, spending time with my dog Bella, my family, and friends. I’ve been reading more than expected, which includes physical books and audio books. Sharing what is learned, going to conferences that expand my mind. But this small going of not buying clothes or shoes for one year is proving to be more fruitful than imagined. I am not adding anything to my life, or subtracting. I am maintaining, appreciating, and expanding.
“When I am in service to another person, I am moving from a place of self-centeredness to selflessness. The act of giving inherently carries gratitude in it. For me, it is impossible to give without feeling grateful.” ― Cami Walker,29 Gifts: How a Month of Giving Can Change Your Life
During the past several weeks, I finished the book 29 Gifts by Cami Walker. The self help memoir begins with the author sharing the struggles of the debilitating disease of multiple sclerosis. The disease has progressed exponentially fast, and she had gotten to the point where she could not prepare a salad for herself or her husband, engage in her freelance job as a web consultant, and it was difficult to walk even short distances without the struggle of leaning on her husband. The author was 30 something years old and shared her difficulties with a friend, who was a healer from South Africa. This woman told her to give gifts for 29 days. At first Cami was in shock and hesitant how this would work. She felt her troubles were so overwhelming she did not have the capacity to give. But she tried. And she began to see changes. Energy increased, mood improved, her walking ability, and job opportunities came up. She also learned that by truly giving, she also was learning how to receive. With the changes she was witnessing, she started a movement, by encouraging friends and others via a blog to do the same thing.
And I thought I would do the same.
I’m currently in the midst of this, giving gifts for 29 days. I took inspiration from the book, and began to see that gifts includes tangible presents, but it’s more than that. Gifts are quality time, donations, advice, food, flowers, pet rubs. The rules are one must be intentional as one gives with a mantra “I give with grace” or “I give with abundance.” Use whatever phrase fits you. Reflect via a journal what arises for you. And one day even buy food for a homeless person, in addition giving them a specific amount of money (in the book it was $7). And I am seeing small shifts.
What are the types of things I have been giving? I have donated to an international children’s charity, a pet charity, I’ve baked goods for my colleagues twice and friends. In addition, I have offered classes with a full heart, although I knew there would not be much compensation in return for belly dance, yoga, and meditation. I’ve offered prayers, offering to pay for food or drinks for friends and families, leftover magazines for a colleague to do her vision board. I’ve bought future hotel stays for friends, we would be doing together. I’ve let people go in front of me in line. I’ve offered positive quote cards or memes to friends that were sad. I’ve offered the gift of honesty to someone I was dating that it wasn’t working out. It’s been a wide variety of ways I’ve given gifts, and I am reminded in the past I used to give freely.
As I completed this 29 day gift challenge, there was validation that I had once given freely to others and often. But eventually, I feel people have taken advantage of that, and I have closed my heart. Why give when it was not appreciated? In doing that, maybe I’ve shifted how the law of attraction works.
On the other hand, what have I received? I have attained two scholarships I applied for: one for a warrior at ease level 2 yoga training (focusing on trauma) and one to Esalen. Initially I noticed there was an uptick in men I was dating, although numbers don’t mean anything, it was refreshing. I observed one day I donated $5 and was granted a $5 coupon to use within 20 minutes, the law of energetic exchange works quickly. I received unexpected gifts from friends, it wasn’t a holiday or my birthday. I received a galentine’s gift and a collection of gifts from a fellow wanderluster’s travels. One must give without the expectation of receiving, but if one gives from his/her full heart, it’s reciprocal. It may not be in the exact same manner but it returns.
And now I offer this blog as a gift to you. As a challenge for you to try the 29 Day Gift Challege. Give freely, and see what arises.
The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.-Ellen Parr, graphic designer
Things haven’t worked out as planned. This was a three day weekend that we had planned for my friends to come over and have a vision board party. We set the date on the calendar for weeks, I cleaned the house, ordered a pull out couch to be delivered on time, made gluten free brownies, and bought the right kind of alternative milk and gluten free bread for our weekend breakfasts. Yet things didn’t work out, as a friend’s boyfriend got Covid and she then proceeded to get sick. As precaution, she didn’t come and due to rain warnings with potential mudslide warnings the other friends didn’t come as well. This is post pandemic life. I admit, initially I was highly frustrated. Now that I have a fully time job, these holiday weekends are sparse, and I planned each with intention and purpose. But things don’t always go as we plan. Automatically, I had the urge to come up with backup plans, which included trying to attend a sound healing in Santa Barbara that would be held in a salt cave. I called the healing center, but it was sold out. I could go on a whale watching tour alone, but was weary with the high waves and potential storm brewing.
I was fearing frustration and boredom. I wanted to feel I did something for the weekend, that it meant something and it was worthy of a day off. I was doomed to spend several days at home, with no friends, no dates, no plans. And therefore, I was bored.
Yes, I know this sounds totally dramatic.
I recognized in that moment I had options on what to do or how to think. I could get angry and ruminate on the idea that I can never count on others for plans and view all Californians as flakes, including my friends. I could go to LA and find something to do, dependent on my brother’s plans. I could binge on Netflix shows. Take extended naps. Shop (although I was not buying any clothing or shoes this year). Explore nature. Engage in creative activities.
And in the multitude of thoughts arising, I could reframe it all and view this as a gift. I had my weekends planned out for the next several weeks, including a pending trip to Seattle next weekend. This cancellation of plans doesn’t have to equate with stress and frustration. It could be a blessing, an opportunity for time affluence and abundance.
So my weekend consisted of a variety of these things. Preparing my tax documents for my accountant, catching up with friends on the phone, making new ethnic dishes, taking walks on the beach, preparing for my bellydance classes that I will be teaching soon, reading, watching a Netflix movie in entirety in one sitting (generally this takes several days or one week for me to complete a film), and a little blogging. In addition, I was able to do some crafts with material I gathered from the beach.
In the past I wanted my weekends to be “fun” and worthy of catch up stories to my friends and co-workers. But there is value in life being enriched with doing nothing. With crating crafts or simply engaging in your favorite hobbies, or even resting. There is no prize for who has the most unique plans or most busy weekend. There’s joy in simple satisfaction and contentment, even if it involves simply going to the local beach with my 15 year old dog to walk barefoot in the sand and watch the waves and the local surfers.
As John Lennon once said, “life is what happens when you are busy making plans.”
Earlier today I was in a checkout line at a Filipino grocery store. My purchases were small but intentional: a ten pound bag of Thai Jasmine rice, Chinese Mabo Tofu mix,Vietnamese Pho noodles, pad Thai sauce, Japanese udon noodles, some local vegetables, and a packet of Korean curry. The young cashier who was checking me out on the register said to me, “I have one question, what is curry?”
I looked at her in amazement, I assumed everyone who worked at the store was Filipino or some type of Asian, but she appeared to be Mexican American. I proceeded to summarize curry as a type of stew “It’s a stew that adds flavor to your veggies and meats.” I was so astonished that someone didn’t know what a curry was, and I was wondering if I was offering a poor answer to this question. “This is a Korean curry, but there are Japanese curries, Thai curries, Indian curries, so many kinds.” She was open to admitting her lack of knowledge on the subject. “I want to start experimenting and try cooking new dishes. I tried the Filipino curry, and so I was wondering about this curry.” I was curious what dish she was talking about, as Filipinos technically don’t have curries, or maybe I didn’t view it in that way. Was it adobo, kare kare, or caldereta? I didn’t want to keep up the line, but offered her a “thank you and good luck with your curries.”
I wondered if my definition excited or deterred her from curry. There was so much more to say about it, but I was caught off guard. And yet in that moment, I appreciated this stranger’s sincere honesty and willingness to seek more knowledge. I also was in awe of the fact that we were in California in an area full of diversity, in which we can learn, understand, and appreciate things from each culture. My $33 spent on groceries was an abundance of Asian wealth from a variety of countries. We take that for granted these days, but in the moment I was appreciative of the global education we all can offer each other while in line at an ethnic grocery store.
I am lounging in Caje Café in Santa Barbara, a Spanish style coffee shop that sits across the Alrington Theater. It’s happenstance that I’m here during the Santa Barbara Film Festival in front of a premiere. People are lined up to see the stars walk down the red carpet before entering the theater.
The café drew me in not because of it’s proximity to this event but because of the beauty of the courtyard. After leaving Andalucia in December, I was missing the outdoor beauty of Spanish life, and longed to be close to a beautiful fountain and greenery. There were young college students at the café, in addition to yuppies, dog owners, and fellow book lovers who sprawled out in the sun and read their next chapter. There was also a man who appeared to be struggling with mental health issues, potentially homeless, walking up to various customers muttering to himself, before he was kicked out.
I sat in the outdoor café and wrote, once in awhile peaking on what was going on around me. The music was quiet and chill, it was a simple Sunday afternoon. But then I heard loud screams coming from the street. Me along with many of the customers stepped out of the café’s white entrance to sneak a peak. The main star arrived. Billie Eilish’s van pulled up and she was about to enter the festival. The screams were loud, fans stood on their tip toes to see above the crowd to get a view above other fans who were holding up her most recent record. She briefly stopped to shake fans’ hands and was interviewed by the press before heading into the theater.
I went back into the café, whose background music was promptly changed from soft mellow tunes to a loud Billie Eilish song. As I walked in, so did the man with mental health issues. He was running behind the screaming crowd and proceeded to run back into the café, making fellow patrons squeamish. A woman came up to him, and asked what was wrong. I wasn’t close enough to hear the words he was muttering on repeat. He was distraught and upset. She held his hand and slowed down her breathing. Gentle loud exhales to decrease his nervous system, as she did this she repeated to him “you are safe.” She continued to check what he needed at that moment, and offered to get him water as he sat down. The fellow staff member who kicked him out minutes earlier, came by to check.
This female courageous customer was handling the situation. She was calming this stranger down, when everyone else backed away. He was shaken by the loud screams for Billie Eilish and was unaware of what was going on.
As I watch this all unfold, I thought of the irony of the situation. This woman was the real rock star here. Yes, artists and musicians help express our emotions and get us through difficult times in our lives through their creative works. Everyone surrounded the theater to welcome her entrance to the event. But at a café across the street, a woman was in the everyday trenches, offering a moment of tangible calm support to a stranger that was viewed by others as untouchable. She was not paid for this act, and nobody else said anything to her for this to be recognized as profound and strong.
I offered her one of these Puzo Bella cards (which you may have received, which is why you may be reading this blog). I wanted to tell her I noticed her and wanted to thank her for helping a stranger. For some reason as I did this, I wanted to cry. In that moment, she had this superhero strength of compassion of a saint. And I wanted her to know it was seen and appreciated. There’s so much to be seen and admired in this world, and it’s not only things that are of material wealth. It’s these everyday moments that are full of rich individuals, simply helping a stranger.
I watch my brother carefully measure out the espresso beans, the ratio and weight to what is needed for each latte he serves himself, his girlfriend and me. The attention to detail with how he foams the alternative milks for each of our drinks.
I see his girlfriend delicately pouring hot soy wax into rose fondant shapes for the bespoke candles she is gifting a small group of loved ones. Colors chosen linked to their astrological signs.
I watch my friend online who is tired, after seeing 25 patients this week for therapy, lend a supportive ear, as I share my latest dilemma giving the week’s play by play.
My fifteen year old dog places her paw on me, displaying her affection, and falls asleep with her paw on my lap.
I saw a female empowerment poster with strong historical women in a friend’s home. He shares how he teaches his young boys about these women’s accomplishments and vacillates these mini bios between talks on mindfulness, encouraging them to be feminists in their upbringing.
I observe the care exhibited in each of these moments. All are offerings of love. In each instance, no act was done with an expectation of anything in return. Nobody was doing these things for a financial transaction or a hope to be discovered. It was simply an expression of love or sharing of a skill. Non-attachment.
It makes me wonder, where have I gone wrong? Have I kept tabs in how I display love? After years of giving, and running on empty, I needed time to replenish the drought of self-inflicted martyrdom. Perhaps you can relate. But in observing others give freely, it makes me wonder has that pause ended? After taking a break from the working world and being a solo nomad am I ready to give again, without expectation, and solely a pure heart? Time will tell.
“Because when they looked at her, it occurred to them for the first time in their lives that what’s divine can come in dark skin. You see, everybody needs a God who looks like them, Lily.”-Secret Life of Bees, Sue Monk Kidd
A PBS episode that recently aired that highlighted the beauty of the Black Madonna in Italy. It was a great refresher in having the emotions stirred within about the essence of pilgrimage. Earlier this summer, I went on a pilgrimage with Alessandra Belloni (featured in the PBS special) to visit multiple Black Madonnas in Italy. It was beautiful to witness the devotees that pray, sing, and dance to Her. I observed people having a 1:1 relationship with Her, and it was a reflection of the potential of my relationship with Her.
I’ve been living in America the past six weeks, one hour outside of Los Angeles. Although it is not a busy town, there’s still a fast pace to the American lifestyle of capitalism, consumerism, and hustling to survive. I am surrounded by people who are talking of the struggles of surviving, let alone thriving. It’s easy to lose focus of your values, when you are staying so busy simply to keep up. But watching this episode was a reminder of how my life was earlier this year. There is an importance of slowing down and dropping into the sacred. This is what pilgrimage does.
We may not be able to be on pilgrimage all year. And I’m curious that high could be sustained if it was perpetual. Perhaps we need moments from the peak to recognize the importance and beauty of the sacred. The return in our everyday lives is the challenge to sustain the transformation felt within on pilgrimage, while at home. We may no longer be surrounded by fellow pilgrims, holy shrines, or celebrations that ignite a sense of awe, but can the power of the pilgrimage outshine the monotony and stressors of regular life> Can we stay moved and uplifted, although people around us may want to complain of everyday sorrows?
This is the challenge.
The two, the hero and his ultimate god, the seeker and the found, are thus understood as the outside and the inside of a single, self-mirrored mystery, which is identical with the mystery of the manifest world. The great deed of the supreme hero is to come to the knowledge of this unity in multiplicity and then to make it know.-Joseph Campbell
“There are two ways to be rich: One is by acquiring much, and the other is by desiring little.”-Jackie French Koller
As the new year began, my friend Isabella said one of her New Year Resolutions was to not buy clothes, shoes, or accessories for one year. I quickly decided to make this pact and make this one of my resolutions. It was something I was going towards anyways, buy less, use what you love.
But how quickly we forget about this, and can mindlessly buy things when we are bored, when there’s a sale, when we want to change an aspect of ourselves, numb out, or even to feel a certain way. But a new challenge has arisen. Can we find that inspiration with what is already existing in your closet? This is the challenge.
Over the years, I have really gotten rid of so many things. Now that I have moved back to America and reunited with all of my belongings that were in storage, I am reminded of the hold me that has existed. Does the old me equate with the new me? This is the question. And now that I am in a new job and must go into an office, I am realizing I have less plain shirts than I realize. My clothes are on repeat. But this is okay.
You want to wear what you love. You want to wear what sparks joy. But it’s an opportunity to have one year to take stock on what exists in that closet. And see what one can combine, create, and surprise yourself. Perhaps new styles will arise, combinations added together that can ignite a new you. Are you up for the challenge?
This past week, when having a farewell coffee meetup with a friend, she said to me that this return home would be a pilgrimage. Although I have visited America nearly annually, I haven’t lived here in 10 ½ years. Those words “it’s a pilgrimage” repeated with me over the past 20 hour voyage home.
I’ve been prepping to move back for nearly six months in some ways, and everyone has been asking me “how are you feeling?” In truth, so many emotions, but the final months with non-stop international and Spanish travel, visitors, or packing, I haven’t been able to process. I can only be present to the next task ahead of me.
“Life is like driving in the dark. Your headlights show you the 200 feet in front of you and as you move forward, the next 200 feet are shown to you. You don’t need to see the entire path in order to reach your destination.”-Jack Canfield
On one of my last nights, as I lied in bed prepping to sleep, my thoughts began to ruminate over what all had to be done and I realized in that moment I had a choice. I was making an international move with a pet, buying a condo, starting a new job, and shipping belongings. I could choose anxiety and restless sleep or know that everything was already working out. My question became, “why wouldn’t it work out?” All was unfolding and being divinely guided, I just had to trust and focus on the next task at hand. Don’t focus on the larger picture but the next thing that was being asked from me.
My friend Isabella reminded me I was fortunate enough to not be alone. She was right, as both her and my mother would be present to help make this journey possible. I ordered a van from Uber the day prior, hoping it would fit the three of us and Bella and all of our luggages. We each had two check-in luggages, a carry on and personal item. And it did. As we made the Uber ride, I realized my carry on and personal item were over stuffed and I should pay additional money for my carry on, and buy another carry on to distribute the weight. I hoped in the van ride it would be comped, but was willing to pay. Upon reaching the counter to check in at the gate, I informed the staff member of my luggage predicament. She looked at me, my belongings, and Bella in my backpack. She told me this would be too expensive, and she grabbed the credit card machine. “240 euros,” she said . She then proceeded to say, “I’m doing this for the dog.” It was comped! She happened to be a fellow dog owner, and had empathy for us. Perhaps she knew flying with a pet internationally was massive work.
With each little step, I repeated gratitude verbally and internally, like a mantra. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Everything was working out. I definitely had to have a “pilgrimage” mindset during this. For a short amount of time, physically and energetically I would have to be managing a lot. But I could do this. I could harness my internal wonder woman as I embarked on this journey. Having actually done the camino was helpful. I reflected on the state I was in for those specified days. I questioned at times what the heck I was doing walking so many kilometers, remind myself of the intention, and the fact that so many have walked that path before. I also knew it was temporary and that magical things could happen to assist all peregrinos. And so these flights would be a different camino. It was fitting that the first film I watched on the extended journey would be The Camino, a Danish film that came out this past year. https://www.imdb.com/title/tt24177444/
I heard a quote once that “it ends as it begins.” And I thought of this as we flew from Malaga to Paris in the 2 hour journey, the city I lived in last year. In the three hour layover, I felt horrible for Bella as there were no pet relief areas. My mom bought her the cutest diaper skirt and diapers for the journey. I walked her during this break, she lifted her leg and half peed in the diaper and a wall. I grateful to have Isabella and my mom to assist me as I cleaned it up, and Bella made her own makeshift pet relief area. I was so surprised and grateful that Bella had no accidents on the 10 ½ hour flight from Paris to Los Angeles.
There was more relief and gratitude as my brother picked us up from LAX in a SUV, and had Filipino food waiting to feed us. His girlfriend had spent days cleaning the house in preparation. And we could finally breathe and rest.
In the past, embarking on a pilgrimage like this would have been overwhelming. I would have somaticized the pain, cried at various stressful trigger points, and had ruminating thoughts of anxiety. This is all okay if these emotions arise, I once did this. But for some reason this move was different. I was present to what was at hand, had assistance from friends and family. It could have been the frame of mind I was in, the pilgrimages I’ve done, or the hundreds of hours of meditation practice I have done over the years. Perhaps it’s in these moments that the results of accumulated practice are culminated. Calm surrender and trust that the Universe, our guides, God, strangers, and the path are all supporting you on this pilgrimage of life. And with that all, thank you for everyone who has supported me on this journey.
“Compassion for others begins with kindness to ourselves.” — Pema Chodron
Moving is always listed as one of the top 10 events that are attributed to our personal stress. There are so many facets involved with this big ordeal: making the decision to embark on this change, informing one’s landlord, having prospective tenants visit your place, finding a new place to live, searching for a job, interviewing, attaining a job, packing, transportation to the new location, and coordinating the shipment or move of one’s belongings. This is the case for me. In the past six months, I’ve made the decision to relocate. I will not just be leaving my current city, country, but also continent. After 10 ½ years of living overseas, I will be returning to America, a job, and a newly purchased condo. And so the past several months have been eventful, with interviews, travels, paperwork, coordination, and packing.
I had always thought during times of moves, that we must almost be in a manic state to ensure we get everything done. This includes excess energy, less sleep, and full speed ahead planning. I’m generally overcaffeinated and prepared for all. And this time, I’ve tried to decrease some of this and maintain a bit of my spiritual practice. In reality, I do not have the time or mental capacity to do all of my spiritual practice. This is where self-compassion has been vital for me.
It’s during these moments that I remind myself, that it is all ok. Although I may not be able to do my extended leisurely 45 minute spiritual practice every morning, everything counts. Doing just my daily gratitude and reading a spiritual text in the morning may be enough. I also could intentionally choose to make anything a spiritual or mindful practice. I have done this with taking my dog for a walk and being present without the distraction of phones, doing the dishes mindfully, and slowing down the mornings with candlelight and coffee. There are options for reset numerous times of the day.
Instead of harboring on myself that I haven’t been able to do my daily yoga practice, and I can lean into the comfort of knowing I spent quality time with visiting friends or family. I can take it easy on myself because I’m navigating a strenuous transitional time. And I can take deep diaphragmatic breaths, when I remember.
Last month, I had attended a silent retreat. On my free time, as I knit a small blanket, I would repeat the following compassion phrases first with regards to myself, then someone I love, another I am neutral towards, someone I dislike, and the larger world. This is known as metta or loving kindness meditation. The compassion phrases I tend to lean on are the following:
May I be free from suffering.
May I be free from internal and external enemies.
May I live this life with a healthy body and happy mind.
May it be so.
The blanket I was knitting was becoming a compassion blanket, for myself, others and the world. Instead of ruminating on all the stressors that were in my life, I could focus on those phrases and that moment. I remind myself this during my last week living abroad. Can I find comfort in the crazy? Can I hold myself in compassion through change? I encourage this metta practice to all of you, regardless if you are in the midst of transition or simply preparing for the holiday season.
It Only Takes A Smile 