If you know me well, or are a regular reader, you know that personal development is a big part of my life. I’ve been seeking, and trusting that the “ye shall find” bit will follow. I meditate, journal, set intentions and goals. I’ve read ALL the Brene Brown books and have actually done the exercises in the back. But, also: I’ve done all kinds of crazy shit on along this journey. I’ve walked on hot coals. (Thanks, Tony Robbins!) Tony had us chant the words "COOL MOSS!" intermittently throughout the day before the coal walk. Also, I just realized I totally look like O’s friend, Sheri. I’ve had my Yantras read. (Don’t worry, it’s not as dirty as it sounds.) I’ve been naked in front of more sha

March 2019 — Playa Troncones, Mexico It’s a couple of days into this yoga retreat and so far it’s bliss - which is also the name of my cabana. On many vacations, especially when I’m traveling out of the country, I tend to over schedule myself: excursions, classes, sessions with spiritual healers/astrologers/tarot readers, sweat lodges, kayaking, zip lining... you name it, I’ve probably tried it. I’m actually working on writing up my epic “thrown from a horse” story during one such vacation. It’s a doozy. But, on this trip, I’ve decided to unFOMO myself. To just be. The days are long and lazy. I’m up pretty early for mediation and morning Yoga class then nothing on the schedule until eveni

I write this note to myself at work after deciding not to pick the fight I’ve been dying all week to pick. I can’t remember where I’ve heard this phrase before - I assume I read it somewhere, or heard it from a teacher. But it pops into my head and seems right. I’ve been brooding about this thing that's bothering me, but is definitely/probably not bothering the other person when I realize that having this particular conversation again isn't really going to change the inevitable outcome. It will only keep me in the mind-trap that I’ve made. So, I just let it go. (Cue the Angels!) Later, on my way home from work, I start listening to a new audiobook. Within the first 20 minutes, the narrator

My mom, aka “Fancy," has been on my mind a lot this week. March 2 marks 5 years (can it be five years??) since she died. During this bleak week of winter, I’m remembering how much she loved the beach and the sun…. Fancy always says that sun, salt water, and salt air can fix any problem. Head cold? Get out in that sun. Acne? Splash some ocean water on it. Heartbroken? Take a walk and breath in that salt air. Getting a suntan, which she refers to as a “burn” — as if that’s a good thing, was a critical component of a successful trip to the beach. Fancy turns golden brown within the first few days of summer and keeps her glow until Thanksgiving. She corrals us kids to the beach us even on the c

Note: I found this entry in my Evernote App, written almost 4 years ago. At the risk of making this blog all about my intermittent panic attacks and anxiety, I’m posting it. Because it’s a real thing. And this is real life. Original date: March 27, 2015 I don't think I'm the kind of person who has panic attacks. I mean, I didn't think I was a person who had panic attacks until I had one. Then another. And another. At first, I didn't know what was happening. I thought I was just having a moment. My parents had both passed away within a few years of each other. I was handling it pretty well if you didn't count the moments. And I wasn't counting the moments. I also wasn't counting the yo-yo per