It Only Takes A Smile

Below is an email I wrote to the infamous Paulo Coelho  after finishing his book The Spy.

Dear Paulo 
There’s this eeriness to the fact I finished your book The Spy 100 years to the day of when Mata Hari was executed. Thank you for sharing her story.
I have purchased your book several months ago but waited for the right time to read it, when my brain and schedule could fully inhale it. Oddly I was flying to Malaga (where Picasso wanted to whisk away Mata Hari), when I began reading it. The thing with your books is I immerse myself in them completely and will finish them in a weekend. I want to linger in them and savor each word , but they are so inviting . I can’t help but be pulled in.
As soon as I began reading the book , Mata Hari intrigued me. I heard the name but thought by the sound of it she was some yogi who was known for singing bhajans. The story you told of her keeps her spirit alive. There’s this allure and passion for wanting to be the world’s muse, but she struggled for never allowing herself to be vulnerable enough to have her own muse. She danced to escape the horrors of her world and be lifted to the gods, and perhaps briefly was a goddess. But mortals can never be godly for long. Her execution, 100 years ago today, served as a warning to the people of that time that we cannot escape death. Jealousy, war, retribution, distraction, disempowerment, and judgement were all reasons for her execution . In today’s world, people sadly still die for these reasons and more.
As a psychologist , I appreciate how you explored how trauma can taint and shift the direction of our lives. She found strength and salvation through dance. Mata Hari recreated the life she wanted through the process of renaming herself and creating her own storyline. The fabrications and erotic dance both eventually served as her downfall, but simultaneously kept her alive during her most darkest times. We have the power to recreate our own lives on this limited time we have here on earth.
Your novel keeps Mata Hari’s spirit awakened. I want to reconnect with belly dancing and the goddess within me. I know there is a goddess that lives within us all. Maybe today I will let her dance.
Thank you again for sharing your research and creativity by bringing her story to today’s consciousness. I rarely reach out to authors who impact me, but the more I live each day with gratitude I find it necessary to share the impact others have on our lives. The definition of inspiration is to breathe in God. Beauty awakens within and stirs in us a calling of wanting to be more and serve others.
“Beauty does not linger; it only visits. Yet beauty’s visitation affects us and invites us into its rhythm; it calls us to feel, think, and act beautifully in the world: to create and live a life that awakens the Beautiful. A life without delight is only half a life.”- John O’Donahue

Last week I had the privilege to see Ryan Adams perform for the second time. The first was several years ago in Miami . The audience was lukewarm and slightly disrespectful to Ryan the headliner. He chose to not do an encore and have a short performance , clocking in at about 45 minutes. But last week was different , he must have been feeling the British love . The performance was two hours long!

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Ryan Adams is probably the most temperamental performer I have ever seen. His mood could stop a show, or make it blossom to extreme heights. It was mentioned at the beginning of the show he had a medical condition where if lights are flashing , he may go into a seizure. Early on the show did temporarily pause, because someone was utilising flash. Ryan cursed but did not blame the audience member , he blamed his genetics . It didn’t happen again, and Ryan carried on.

My husband loves him and said Ryan is a true artist , a perfectionist. “If he was a chef, he would be Michelin starred.” My husband noted the respect and awe all other musicians offered Ryan on stage. It was like watching a genius at work. We scored front row standing spots, and he was in heaven.

We left as the last song was being played, and serendipitously we found ourselves by the stage door. A getaway car was awaiting, along with security. We called out to Ryan accolades of a great show. Somehow I even thought of offering him a gratitude card with a positive quote. He graciously accepted. 

When I told my brother about this, he couldn’t help but laugh. Ryan Adams is known as this amazing musician who is stereotypically an emotive artist. His work excels when there is strife and difficulties in his world, and I was offering a positive quote. 

We all need positive vibes and offerings of gratitude. Thanks Ryan for the work you have offered the world. It’s appreciated and endeared.

I think back to the random encounters I have had and what celebrities and influencers  I have offered this card to: Ryan Adams, Ethan Hawke, David Sedaris, Rachael Yamagata, Amma, Wild Beasts, Michael C Hall. Who knows if any have read this blog, but I can’t help but want to share gratitude for the work they have done and the impact they make on others. The gratitude is sincere…mahalo;)

The weather shifts for several days. The rain and clouds drift in, the temperature decreases, and I start to put away the summer clothes. But today the sun returns, it makes the day a whole lot sweeter. I try to immerse myself (and my dogs) in the sun. The breeze touches our skin and faces, but so does the sun. I know here in England, the days of sunshine have an expiry date. Each boost of Vitamin D is limited and therefore greatly appreciated.

My days of living in Hawaii and California are long ago. Even though I wasn’t a local (having been born in Ohio), the sun became an industry standard for my life. Gratitude for the sun wasn’t in my daily thoughts, it was just taken for granted. 

As with love, we may only appreciate things more when they are gone…that goes for summer and sunshine.

 

After being drenched from yesterday’s storm and walking for 90 minutes in the rain, I embrace in the day. If I could hug the sun, I would. Thank you sun for each moment of bliss. I will miss you, till we meet again (as I upload this the hail begins).

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The busy nature of a city such as London can be draining, as well as invigorating. Strangers briskly walk by , all in a rush for some reason on a Saturday . It can feel isolating if you are alone and surrounded by people enjoying life with partners , family , and friends. 

This was the case today for me.  I explored the city solo, which I generally don’t mind. I brought  take away Vietnamese at Granary Park, and found I was one of the few people taking in the sun alone. As I ate, I listened to people’s conversations , and stared at boats passing on the canal. I debated how long to sit there alone, But then there was action. 

A 30 something man teased the crowd on this September afternoon by taking off his shirt and pretending to jump into the canal. When he didn’t leap, the crowd booed. Peer pressure worked and he began to take off one piece of clothing at a time.  Shortly after he jumped in. The crowd roared, and a woman actually offered him a hug. I was no longer alone eating dinner at this instance , I somehow was transported to a community experience. 

 Later in the evening , I went to hear a reading from one of my favourite authors : David Sedaris. His observations of the mundane occurrences in life are hilarious .  I often wonder what the world would be like if we transformed daily life into Sedaris wit .  We listened to David’s  excerpts from his diaries. Listening to ones private thoughts brought intimacy to a London crowd. 

Surprisingly afterwards , there was a book signing . A staff member informed me he was there prior to the talk and additionally would be there for three hours post talk to ensure all could get there books signed.  David spent time talking to each fan , personalising every autograph. The woman in front of me received a drawing of a plane , my autograph was below:

Although David doesn’t know me, I truly appreciate him taking the time to make each fan special.  

Bringing smiles to strangers doesn’t take much 😀

Yesterday my commute home was nearly four hours.  I left work early to begin my long weekend.  The sun was shining, it was only 3:00pm, and I was excited to relax after working 10 days in a row. My one hour commute quadrupled.

Instead of getting upset, as it would have been easy to flip the switch. I reframed… this is an opportunity . Now I was blessed with the time to call my family, listen to podcasts, I even wrote in my journal (as for some time we were completely stopped)! 

I watched as other drivers tried to escape through the emergency lane, yet there was a truck driver who acted as the police. He stopped their paths. We were all in this together , there were no shortcuts. This was humorous to me. I watched people getting upset, and switching lanes. These several hours were totally out of our control.  But I knew to simply accept this.

I am trying to remind myself of this serenity mindset I was in yesterday . The central line on the London Underground (by where I live), is completely getting service done this weekend. 

I instantly curse myself for having bought tickets to a show this evening.  It would be so much easier just to stay home, and do nothing!

My journey into London , which would have simply been 1-2 trains, now involves 2-3 trains and a bus ride.  But it’s all out of my control.

Time to reframe, how can I use this extra time to serve me versus get overwhelmed by it? Calmness exists within me, and I can access it two days in a row.

When you find yourselves in these situations, what do you do?

One thing I love about Italy is there is an abundance of tattoos. I now have 6, and most are quite small. My most recent tattoo is larger than I had projected , due to the intricate work. It’s taken awhile to get used to, but now I fully embrace it. 
Going to the beaches in Positano and Capri, it was comforting to be around others with tattoos showing them off. Express art on your body , however big of small. The covert tattoos that exist beneath button down shirts and work trousers , momentarily are available to literally shine in the sun.

It was also a relief to be around people of all body types. Bathing suits leave little for the imagination , and although we aren’t naked , we are exposed. I tend to feel that in America (especially LA) we become so obsessed with having the perfect body, that it prohibits us from showing our skin. But in Italy, there were loads of women with tiny panzas (bellies), and it was awesome to see that. It helped decrease my self criticising thoughts about my body. I could embrace my Brazilian bikini which perhaps is slightly too small , but reframe “it enhances my curves. ”

Maybe I don’t go to the beach often enough anymore to witness this throughout the world. But here it seemed different. People didn’t walk around meekly, ashamed of their bodies. They walked around boldly, strutted and swayed their bodies . It was beautiful to witness.
A pregnant woman wore a bathing suit that said “sun’s out, bumps out.”

Our defeating thoughts about the faults in our bodies keep us from enjoying not just the beauty of the sun, or the soothing coolness of the water , but the fullness of life .

In Positano there is a trail that is supposedly the Hike of the Gods. But on the beach, us mortals reside. We have our imperfections, and we embrace them! La Dolce Vita is available for us all to drink in .

Spending several days in a tropical like environment is comforting to me.  Waking up as the sun rises, and hearing the sound of a rooster serves as an alarm gives me this reminiscent feeling . After 7 am passes, the church bells rang every thirty minutes.  It is as if those beginning moments of a day are universal.  Memories of my time in Hawaii , Cuernavaca Mexico, and Sampaloc Manila Philippines replayed in my brain.

I found it inviting to wake up each morning and engage in my daily discipline of meditation, gratitude, spiritual reading , and even yoga ! With this view, how could I not? There wasn’t anything more I needed.

But it’s not easy for everyone . It took awhile to adjust to our time in Sorrento, particularly for my husband. The main amenities we have everywhere we go we’re practically non-existent here.  No air conditioning in restaurants or stores when it was 90 degrees Fahrenheit outside. No ice cubes, fast wifi , and a lack of non-stop city action. But after our third evening , he finally arrived. The calm and relaxed husband I had been waiting for arrived. 

We could appreciate sitting for a cappacino looking out on our balcony at the beautiful landscape. Although the buildings around were not modern and updated , there was still beauty in the collective experience. Everything was enough. 

Although he may not have viewed it this way, it reminded me of attending a silent meditation retreat.  In the beginning there is all this internal chatter of pain, discomfort , stress, and irritability . But with time we were able to let go of it all and be. 

I had heard this saying before how a nomadic tribe would wait several days after travelling for their souls to arrive. And how true this can be for us all? 

We are always so busy in our everyday lives, do we give space for our souls to arrive? This is where lies the importance of meditation . Each day we have the opportunity for our souls to catch up with our bodies. And we can allow ourselves to find beauty in the simple.

“Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.”-Leonardo Da Vinci 

There’s an allure to Paris…. I can’t help but want to pretend I live there , speak French, exude romanticism, and have the mysterious sex appeal of the French women. Therefore I bought this book on my Eurostar journey home last weekend: how to be Parisian wherever you are .

There are numerous sections and tips in there such as how we should choose our perfume by the time we are 30, never smile with showing our gums, and to keep it simple. But the one piece that stands out for me…Be Your Own Knight In Shining Armour.

That principle has repeated in my head throughout the past week. It’s been a mantra. I tried to share it with a male friend this week, who initially had trouble understanding it. Later he said “oh it’s because people can disappoint you. “. 

Yes, but it’s so much more than that. Why should we as females wait for a man to save us from the lives we are living ? Or to complete our stories? Or to make us happy? We are capable of doing this ourselves and should! 

Regardless if we are male or female, when we recognise we are responsible for our own happiness and fate , we will miraculously bring in a happier partner . 

Stand tall. Be your own superhero. Be your own Knight In Shining Armour . You deserve this !

“O Christ you are,

Lord of our Journeying,
Lord of our Searching,
Lord of our Exploring,
Lord of our Finding,
Lord of our Arriving.
May we find that in travelling to the edges

We discover the Centre.”

-taken from http://www.journeying.co.uk

I found this poem on a bookmark in a church from the 1600s adjacent to the retreat center I was stayed at. During an extended lunch break, I wandered into there. I was at Gaia House, a Buddhist retreat center located in Devon England. Almost every retreat they hold is in silence, therefore this abandoned church served as a refuge. On retreat, not only were we to be verbally silent, but we were to not read or write. Our minds could only be stimulated by what was physically around us in real time… our bodies, the fluctuations in our mind, the nature that surrounded us, and the immediate interactions with our atmosphere.
The church had a guestbook filled with past attendees names, there were also notes on a bulletin board written to people who had passed away and even notes to God. Because the church was only kept open by volunteers, it seemed people appeared comfortable to have a conversation with those on another realm. These notes were short, not long profound letters. It was as if people felt safe here, that this bulletin board would serve as a portal. Being silent for days will do that to you. Quiet the mind from external noise, allow one to filter through their own thoughts, and deliver heart messages to those we yearned for dearly. Maybe through our silence we could hear a response from a loved one or God.
Our daily routine included:

 
7 30-45 minute meditations

3 30-45 minute walking meditations
1 chi gong session
1 dharma talk
1 hour karma yoga
-by choice I added a daily 30 minute self-led yoga session
What arose from this meditation retreat was my purpose. I felt as if I needed to learn to share meditation and mindfulness with others in a way that is palpable. Not many people may allow or give themselves the opportunity to attend several days of silent retreat. But could I assist them with attaining the essence of it?
How could I even describe the essence of it?

I did not have any mind altering meditation sessions. I did not become self-realized. I don’t even know if I could state I had a “good” meditation session. But I did work on learning to control my monkey mind. I brought it back to the present place. 
One of the leaders of the retreat discussed how we should breathe through our seat (while sitting) or our feet (while standing). Allow our body absorb up the earth’s energy. She would signify with her finger to breathe into now, drawing her finger up and down vertically several times. Breathe vertically into the present, instead of how we usually breathe horizontally. Horizontal breath is back to the past or forward to the future. Her finger motioned this as well. This simple demonstration and practice was shifting. We were informed throughout each practice to “feel how this is in our bodies right now.” In practicing this multiple times per day, our bodies could imprint this experience to return to whenever necessary.
Through practice, this becomes available as a “go to” tool to return to.
Silent retreats are not once in a lifetime experiences, but something that we should have in our lives frequently. They serve as reminders for us to arrive to now. The mind will fluctuate. Return to now.
I have attempted to share the practice of mindfulness with my mother through the simple practice of “Breath In, Breathe Out.”’ Resources of books, apps, and websites have been shared as well, but what has stuck is that mantra “Breathe In, Breathe Out.” It doesn’t take much to remember. Yet she frequently forgets.
My mother struggles with extreme highs and lows. The most recent one was earlier last week. As she crawled out of the low with the assistance of her husband and local family support, I reminded her of the phrase “Breathe In, Breathe Out.” She was inspired to have this be easily accessible that she got it tattooed on her left forearm!
I have this large aspirational goal to impact others with potential of mindfulness and meditation in their daily lives. My ideal audience is clients, workshop attendees, and future readers of my book. At times I feel I am not successful until that latter monumental task is achieved. But perhaps success starts at home. If I could convert and assist my mother to breathing into now, instead of the past and future, it’s enough. 
A tattoo is more than enough, it’s a transformation!
“In every day, there are 1,440 minutes. That means we have 1,440 daily opportunities to make a positive impact. “-Les Brown    

If you take myth and folklore, and these things that speak in symbols, they can be interpreted in so many ways that although the actual image is clear enough, the interpretation is infinitely blurred, a sort of enormous rainbow of every possible colour you could imagine. -Diana Wynne Jones

Recently, I had the luxury of visiting the trifecta of the Balkan coastline: Tallinn, Helsinki, and Riga. Although all cities were quite amazing, there was this pull in Riga to know the culture on a deeper level. As I lingered onto the city’s streets and stores, I noticed a pattern of symbols popping up frequently on clothing, purses, notebooks, scarves, and wallets. I inquired a store teller about this, as I noticed the images were being sold as small wooden souvenirs.

 

She began to describe that these were symbols of their pagan Gods. It wasn’t until the 13th century that Christianity were forced on the Latvians. Despite this, the symbols remained rooted in the culture over time. At first I simply bought several symbols as gifts, and left the store. I quickly returned and stocked up buying 15 various symbols, but almost half of them were one particular style. Although the most popular one was “Austras koks” (power of all symbols), there was only one left. I chose to stock up on “Ugunskrusts” because it was described as the most ancient of all symbols and was equated with strength. It looked celtic and I thought this would be a perfect gift for others. The store teller Janna told me I could use the symbols as either a display on my xmas tree, in a car, office, home. It was versatile, cheap, and portable for gifts.

“Is there a book on this?” I asked Janna. “Just google it,” she encouraged me. I would find loads of resources. And therefore that evening, in my hotel room, I did. I began finding page after page of the history behind these symbols, numerous individuals gracing themselves with tattoos of these images, and other souvenir ideas I could purchase. But then I stumbled on a fact that I could not release from my head.

The Ugunskrusts which I purchased 7 of were previously worn by the Latvian military, as it signified strength. Germany was inspired by this, and therefore embraced it. It became known to the world as a “swastika”. Of course! I knew how familiar this looked. Why didn’t the store clerk tell me?

I informed my husband, and was horrified I did this. He laughed, and I was curious if I could exchange these souvenirs the next day. He reminded me that it wasn’t America, I would be stuck with 7 swastikas. The next morning, I woke up, and ensured I entered the store when it opened at 1000 am. Luckily Janna was there and recalled our interaction the day previously. I graciously inquired if I could exchange the 7 symbols for other ones. She quickly approved. I should have stopped my mouth there. But my babbling mouth continued.

“I googled it like you told me to, and it said that these were swastikas.” 

She retorted,”they are not swastikas.”

Ugg, I realized I was offending her. This was a Seinfeld episode living itself out in real time. I couldn’t stop it. 
 “I know they were originally gods here years ago, then taken from the Latvian military by the Nazis. But my family and friends may see it as swastikas. And we’re ethnic.”
She understood and was cordial. I left, but kept ruminating on how I may have offended Janna. I returned to the store, apologized again, and took a photo with her. I knew this would be a funny story. 
Having this experience, reminds me of the essence of why we travel. We uncover history of spiritual roots of a country, the power of symbols and how it can be transformed and rewritten, and the authentic vulnerable interactions we are able to have with strangers, even with store clerks who sell us souvenirs. 

 

Thanks Janna.