Birth Story

The nurses and midwives at the birth center strongly suggested I write down my birth story right away so that I didn't forget anything. In fact, they suggested that each my husband and myself do this, share with one another, then keep what we want and throw out anything that was painful. Well the reality is it's now two months later and I'm just finally getting to sit down at my laptop for the couple hundredth time to finish writing out and editing the words I've been playing over in my head as I nursed my baby boy at all hours. And getting my husband to write down his story was a non-starter so I'm not pushing that. And let's be real, a lot of it was painful-ha! So, here's my story:

The photo above was taken about ten minutes before my water broke on Saturday night, December 22, 2018. I was taking mirror selfies and comparing them to previous days to see whether I had "dropped" yet ("no, not really," the photos told me). Alexander's due date was 12/21, the winter solstice. I was born on the autumn equinox, a personal fact that I love, so of course I was stoked for his solstice debut. Statistically, most babies are NOT born on their due date. And so we were a statistic on the evening of the 22nd one day after his due date. It was a full moon so my expectations were high. After doing my photo comparisons, I walked from the bathroom to go ask my husband for a second opinion on the photos when en-route, I felt a warm fluid leave my body. I was pretty sure I wasn't peeing, but it certainly was not like in the movies where a ton of water comes splashing out in a dramatic way. So I wasn't sure. So I went to bed.

I woke up at 4am the next day, December 23. It was then that I was sure this was happening because I was experiencing what equated to the worst period-like cramps ever. I woke up my hubby and we called the birth center. They suggested I take a shower to relax and see if the contractions slow down. They didn't!  That was a difficult shower! I was having contractions about 3 minutes apart lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to a minute. My husband called my parents who had been planning to drive from Massachusetts to spend Christmas with us no matter what, but were also on-call to try to make it to the birth.

We got into the car by 7am, at which point I was having pretty serious contractions. Like, anyone who pulled up next to us at a light and looked over would likely be able to understand what was going on, serious. Like, scene from a movie serious. After arriving at the birth center, and going into our room, everything becomes a bit of a blur. Time made no sense and was measured only in knowing that another contraction was coming no matter what. I remember sitting in a rocking chair for a while and just moaning through it. I had read about "toning", which is using sound currents to help move through the pain. It was explained that the throat is energetically connected to the cervix and that making sounds and loosening the throat would help to also relax and open the cervix. I was 3 centimeters dilated when we arrived and after a few hours of rocking chair, I told the midwife that I was ready for the tub. She filled the birthing tub with warm water and OH MY GOODNESS it was the BEST. It immediately brought me relief. I can't say how long that relief lasted though, because soon enough I was back in the throws of the contractions, though this time they were even more intense. The relaxation of the water seemed to have accelerated my dilation.

Something wonderful happened around noon: my mom arrived from Massachusetts. Leaving so early in the morning, my parents made the journey to Delaware in a record 4.5 hours! My mom quickly joined the midwife and my husband in coaching me, holding my hands, and cheering me on. Meanwhile my dad was in the waiting room down the hall. I was the only laboring mama at the center, so my room's door was open and I later was told he could hear all of my toning (I'm pretty sure I was sounding like every animal in the zoo with all of the OHHHH, AHHHH, WAHHHH and such sounds I was making!), and he was very concerned. He didn't know about toning and when my mom would check on him he was asking, "what are they doing to her in there?"My mom reassured him that it was just my reactions to the contractions and I was helping to move the process along using a technique I had read about.

I believe the combination of the water and the toning worked because from waking at 4am to starting to push at 2pm, my entire labor and delivery lasted just under 12 hours. I'm told this is pretty good for a first baby and my goodness, I cannot imagine going longer. While I had planned a water birth and did spend a number of hours in the water, I actually  ended up giving a "land birth". After failing to successfully get into a good position to really bear down in the water, the midwife decided she wanted to move me onto the bed. In hindsight, I have no idea where I found the power to get out of the tub, walk to the bed and start to push again. But I did! With lots of help of course. I believe it was  about 3-4 pushes on the bed, lying on my rights side, and then I had my baby boy handed to me. Now THAT was a moment. I couldn't believe it was finally over. What a relief! What a joy! I was so overwhelmed and so glad to have the process over with but I was having trouble to just focus on the baby because of how I was feeling: still  in pain. The midwife and nurse did their thing cleaning me and the baby up, cleaning the bed and then getting Alexander to start feeding right away. This was special, he did a great job latching, but I quickly began to notice that my contractions hadn't stopped. Of course not, because there is the afterbirth. This definitely isn't nearly as intense as pushing out a baby, but it's still having to push again, which seemed like last thing in a million  years I wanted to do. But I did want it over. So we moved through that quite well. And again I thought, "phew it's over!". BUT...as I was nursing I again started to feel strong contractions. My mom was with me and checked on me and noticed a lot of blood. Rather than tell me about what she saw, she just said she would go and get the nurse. They came into the room and did this awful, terrible, no  good thing that I'm sure every woman gets where they press hard on your belly to get any blood clots out. OUCH. I was apologizing as I was swapping the midwife's hands away. It was a biological reaction to hit her but I logically felt bad. 😬 At the birth center, mamas usually go home about 4 hours after birth. The way that they gauge whether you're ready to leave is based on your ability to get up and take a shower. Well, when I tried to get up, I passed out. SO, it turns out I had lost quite a bit of blood via clots and needed an IV of fluids and hormones to both hydrate me and make my uterus contract and stop bleeding. I believe at this point I slept for about an hour while that baby slept in his daddy's arms. I think? I can't remember! (I'll need Costea's version after all!) When I woke up the nurse asked me if I was ready to try for that shower again. With some assistance, I successfully washed myself in what was definitely one of the best showers of my life. I felt so raw.

 I chose a natural birth because I had read that it was what was best for my baby and for my own recovery. And I made a deal with myself that so long as my health was cleared for birthing at the birth center, I would do it. BUT. There were definitely moments during labor where thoughts such as, "OK, if we want another child, we're adopting" and, "OK, I've done the natural thing, next time I can get an epidural" did pass through my mind. Childbirth is so...REAL. It's a journey like no other and yes, at the end we get our little miracle, our baby boy or girl.The entire journey from conception to pregnancy to birthing to recovery to caring for a newborn is seriously intense. Yes, it's beautiful in so many ways but it's also the most difficult thing I've ever done and I have a totally new level of respect for all moms! And for all dads and partners who are supportive of their queens! It was not too long ago in history that men were not really participatory in the pregnancy, birthing, or care process at all. Pretty much just the conception-ha! 😜

Now that my son is passed the newborn stage, we're finding a bit of a groove, a new way of living. And I can't remember life without him. Welcoming a new person into your family, into your life, is a major change. It requires an opening of the heart, no matter how this new person enters. And so I bow to my son for his role in opening my heart even wider. 💖

Sweet Surrender

I've always known I wanted to be a mother. Growing up I babysat, I loved up my niece and nephew, and then eventually my friend's children as they came into this world. I assumed my time for motherhood would come naturally, with the grace and ease we imagine most women experience in finding themselves with child. So when I did find my partner and "settle down" and open myself up to be a mommy; and then it didn't happen, I was heartbroken. I know we all hear and read stories about this, and we know it's become more common for couples to wait to start a family, but actually going through this was among the hardest things I've experienced in this lifetime.

There have been times in the past where I had no problem sharing my life struggles, epiphanies, and growth through my writing. But something shifted with this situation. For some reason, this was too raw. I was too vulnerable. I was too ashamed. This one thing, that all humans no matter what color, class, race, religion should be able to do, I couldn't. I felt like a failure. Like a fraud. Like less of a woman. How could I share that with anyone outside of my closest, most-trusted circle? I knew I wasn't alone and I read other women's tales seeking glimmers of hope, paths of progress and solutions for acceptance. Sometimes these stories lead to successful pregnancies, sometimes they didn't, sometimes they adopted, sometimes they opened businesses. The key was that I knew I was not alone and yet I felt so very alone.

Praying for a solution.

As time passed,  a year turned into two years and my fear around the subject grew as I approached and then passed the 35 year-old mark (when I women becomes considered advanced maternal age-ha!) and so we visited a fertility specialist. After some tests and then some surgical procedures, I was diagnosed with endometriosis and told it was highly unlikely I would ever get pregnant on my own. And they had an answer for us: IVF. For me in that time, in a very victim mode, this felt like an incredible injustice. We couldn't afford IVF, not many can! It felt like a stab to the heart, this blessing and miracle that so many experience without much effort, I'd have to find/borrow/steal (ok maybe not that last one!) to experience. But with this being our only option other than adoption, which I quickly also discovered would come with a large invoice, about the same as a round of IVF, we decided to go through with it. And it didn't work. And I was devastated. Devastated. I was sure this was the silver bullet, the thing that would guarantee us our baby. This was a test of all of my personal and spiritual strength. I had to reevaluate everything. What would be next? Adoption? Try again? Do IVF in Mexico? During this time, our marriage was also put through many tests. What could our future look like with no children? What would we do with our lives? Were we even meant to be together? Was this a sign? Fertility challenges for a couple who knows they want a family are so incredibly intense, it is surely one of the biggest life tests/lessons a person could go through. I'm in awe every day of my husbands patience with me. He never stopped believing our child would arrive.

By this past winter, I was emotionally spent. My prayer for a solution turned into a tearful prayer for God to take away my desire to be a mom. And after much deep-diving and discussion, we decided to take a break from the "try". To raise the white flag. To surrender. As corny as this may sound, the popular radio song "If it's Meant to Be" came out about this time and spring was just around the corner. It felt right to just let it be.

March and April are the most intense months for me at work. I knew I needed to be "on" to run our annual 400-person event, making it a good distraction from our pain. Costea's family would be coming into town for a number of weeks and so we had them to prepare for, and then work with, on our long list of home projects: bathrooms to update, basement to be finished for my yoga classes, and garden to expand to bring us a little closer to our homestead dream. So you might imagine my distraction as one day I realized I was a few days late for my period. This hadn't happened before. Even with my stage 3 endometriosis diagnosis, I'd always had a very regular cycle. I assumed it was from the stress at work and change in schedule from having family staying with us.

A few more days passed and on the way home from work one day, I decided to stop at the store and pick up a pregnancy test. I had had a dream months earlier that I had taken a pregnancy test, then another, then another, that were all positive. I could feel the elation from that dream. I remember so clearly that in the dream a Christmas tree was lit in the background. I was shown two pink lines with each test and so that's the kind I looked for this time. I brought it home and found Costea working on the bathroom floor. I took the test, and it was positive. I literally fell to my knees as I showed him the result and we hugged and we cried and we were in total disbelief. Costea never had doubts, it was me that was full of fear and, as I understand it now, impatience.

A lesson in patience, trust and surrender. 

Thank you God, thank you sweet baby being for choosing us! Thank you for answering our prayers in every way, by teaching us surrender and by making our dream of being parents come true. As I write these words I am both full of joy and also painfully aware of the other women and men who find themselves in the same conundrum we lived through for just under three years. There are no words to soothe the pain of not understanding why something so wanted is not happening. All I can offer is the hope from my own experience. That miracles do happen!

And so, baby Grozav is coming in December 2018, just in time for that beautifully lit Christmas tree.

Coming Around Again

I just read that quote on Facebook (oh yeah, I am meaning to get off that dreadful site, but I'm not ready ;)). The person who shared it was pointing to procrastination and how feeling that we need to have everything figured out and in its place often stops us from getting started in the first place.

This sentiment is oh too true in too many areas of my life. For example, even writing this blog post. I have been thinking, "I want to write again" and even telling people, "I want to share my thoughts on this," or "I want to write a book on that", the advice is often,"Why don't you first start with some blog posts?". Seems easy. But having stepped away from writing (sharing) here for almost a full year, I feel sheepish as I log in and face my Self. I mean, it's hard enough when you reach out to that person or contact you've neglected, "Hey, it's been waaaaaayyyy too long, how ARE you?" and it's no different than when have to look at yourself and say, "Yes, I neglected you."

I know that I need a creative outlet. And if I am not going to sit and write a darn book, I had best be writing this darn blog!

So a check-in. Somewhere to start.

Last time I wrote here I was leaving Moldova to return to the USA after my 2.5 years with the Peace Corps. Since then, things have been weird. It's a period of time when I have looked around me and said, "well heck, THIS isn't how I pictured my life". Truth be told (and yes it pains me to share this, because these are those types of thoughts people don't usually share with others, but perhaps what sets apart a writer/sharer/blogger?) I LOVED to babysit in college and assumed that by the age of 33 I would have my own home and family. Stay-at-home-mom, 2-3 kids, rescued dog, darling husband who worked in something in finance and required me every so often to host a fancy dinner party where his boss and his wife would attend and I would have to buy a new dress....you know. The stuff I saw around me, the stuff we see on TV.

Of course I have now seen many, many, many versions of this "normal life". Extremes even. Everywhere from in a Moldovan village where kids were 1-2, dog was "rescued" only to be tied to a stake in the yard for life, and husband was actually in Russia building a pipeline or driving a truck. No boss for dinner except maybe her's because she took care of the home and children probably with the help of her mother and then also worked. So she had her boss and his wife over for the nicest meal she made all year. Maybe. Or maybe the family in Maine enjoying the sweetness of summer. Dad flying home on the private plane to attend to some business but returning with the chairman of the board of the fund he invests his family's dwindling trusts, but no fear, he married her and her family has got plenty of money (who cares if it's "new" anymore?!). Mom will host an amazing dinner of fresh crab salad and a real lobster bake with bibs and everything. It will be so quaint!

Yes, I have been privy to witnessing this play out on so many layers of life. And so maybe that's why I expected to be experiencing that same thing. But alas, I am not. I have no children and I work full-time. And I swallow that. It might be different if my full-time work was for myself in one of the many ventures I planned and plotted along the way but never found the partner, time, money etc. Only myself to burden and blame with that silliness.

As you know, if you've read my other blog posts, I did get married. But my husband is not a banker or investor, he works in construction. He loves to make things with his hands and to be outside in the freshness of the world, not in an office in front of a screen. And how can I blame him? Yet I do. When I am scared and reeling from the fact that we don't have a home or kids or bosses coming for dinner, I start to feel angry towards him for not being a computer programmer or banker. But I married him for who he is. How dare I think those things? I love him BECAUSE he is who he is with no airs, to pretense, simply doing what he loves to do and trusting that the universe will provide when the time comes for things like children, homes, and dinner parties.

I won't lie. It's been rough. He's foreign, no US degrees, a heavy accent. He's with his third construction team now. I'm SO thankful he has found work as quickly as he did upon arrival in July, because he's not a person who can sit home for long. I have so much to be thankful for and so now, after many journeys to many places, karma has brought me back only 45 minutes from my hometown to where I found work, with a university managing programs for youth in entrepreneurship. I had done projects while in Moldova to inspire people to take control of their own lives through the entrepreneurial mindset, after their past with communism, which seems to have leeched into their hearts and minds.

I'm coming around again.

Oh and so back to the quote above...so much of what we teach in the entrepreneurship program where I work is based on lean startup methodology. This says that you NEED to get started before you're 100% ready so that you know that what you're building is the right thing. You need to put it out to the world for which you're creating, so the world can respond and get you on the right track. There is no one-man-show. There is no ready.

Om tat sat.

Before and After

Before

Of course after 2 1/2 years a person ages somewhat. So we can see those changes. But what about the changes we can't exactly see but we know are there?

I made a quick trip to the Sivananda Yoga Farm right before embarking on my Peace Corps experience. I wanted to touch base with the silent inner voice I had gotten to know better while there, and to gain some feeling of "blessing" from the director, Swami Sita. I was so happy when I found that the lovely and sweet Ambika, an Ayurvedic practitioner well known at the Farm, was also staying while I was there. Before I left, she looked deep into my eyes and told me to be sure to take a before and after photo with a clear look into my eyes, so I could see the profound changes that were sure to occur, even, and especially, at the soul level.

OK, so there are many levels on which we change. They can actually line up exactly with the 3 bodies: spirit, mind, body. And yes, all of those have changed. So let's look at each of those for this post :)

The easiest to notice are the physical changes:

1) My hair is longer. I cut it short right before I left for Moldova as I didn't know what I could expect for hair-care. Well, little did I know that I would be living in a city and there would be plenty of places for haircuts and even highlights. But I didn't exactly find a stylist I loved and sort of decided to let it grow out!

2) I am 3-5 pounds lighter. At one point, I had put on a good 7 pounds. That was almost a year into my service. I remember taking a trip with my friend Natashia to Budapest and we were visiting a spa that had hot spring baths and waters to drink. I wanted to cleanse. I stepped on the scale and saw 60 Kilo and it didn't take too much calculating to realize that was more than I usually weigh. Of course this was the beginning of spring and I always gain weight when it's cold (and the Peace Corps doctors and all of the women here would also remark I needed to be more sturdy for winter). I am closer now to my "healthy weight" but I do fear that is more fat than muscle since I didn't keep a regular workout routine...ugh.

3) I look older. Apparently I look young for my age because people in Moldova always thought I was 25 (I am 32). But when I look at photos from 2011 and now, I guess I can see some new lines. I also think I see some circles under my eyes...

4) I might possibly be toxic. This one is out for the jury. On one hand, I ate quite "clean" in Moldova in the sense that I didn't eat a lot of packaged or processed foods. Moldova also has incredibly rich "black" soil. The fruits and veggies are unbelievably juicy, tasty, amazing! So this makes me think that the micro-nutrients that go into the foods from the soil are higher there. But on the other hand, there is no great organized waste management in Moldova so who knows what's going into the soil really. The water is heavy in minerals and I have no idea if some of those are the dreaded "heavy metals" that come with industrial wasteland type environments. With no place to put your trash, a lot of people burn their trash, including plastics, so who knows what I was breathing on many days. I didn't do any sort of toxicity testing before Moldova so I have no baseline data to compare, but I will definitely be doing some sort of cleansing when I get home.

And next comes the mind...

A little harder to take notice to, but comparing to my thought patterns of the past:

1) I am less self-important. I can't say how I was before I left, but I can say that is something that hit me when I would meet new Americans well into my service. I often felt they were really loud, open, and sharing strange details about their lives that didn't seem to be relevant or necessary. This was overwhelming to me. When I shared this with my work partner, Inesa, she said that I was probably just the same as them but then I got used to the Moldovan ways of being which are typically more reserved with personal life details. I am not so sure if this is exactly "self-importance" but it does seem that I have taken to the Moldovan way of remaining a bit more reserved until appropriately accustomed to a person or group of people and it's not out of shyness but more out of not feeling like everything I say or share is the most important. I have learned to listen more.

2) I compare myself with others less. I won't call this phenomenon an American thing, because truly it's a human thing. We tend to see where others our age are in life, what our neighbor has done to their home, and so on, and compare that to where we are. It's like trying to stick in a life thermometer and ensure we are somehow OK. But living in a place where I understand how difficult it is for people to "get ahead" and living with people who don't have much but offer everything they have, has truly shown me that the things in a person's life are nothing compared to the way a person conducts themselves within that life. Comparing the way we look, what we own, where we are in our careers with others, can be both useful and harmful .There is nothing wrong with seeing some life aspects that we want to reach for, but to understand that we all have our own path in life and that is not a linear and defined path, but an amorphous and evolving process, will help us to just love who we are and where we are...and have respect and love for that!

3) I have less anxiety. I wish I could say I somehow rid myself of all fear and anxieties but heck if that were true, I could probably convince every American to join the Peace Corps ;) My mind still plays plenty of it's same old games of self-doubt. Did I try hard enough? Do I do that the best I could? Did I waste time? Am I on the right path? These questions don't go away but they can lessen and quiet down. One thing Moldova has done for me is to significantly "ground" me. In this I mean that a lot of those high-flying, spinning fears and self-doubting thoughts were probably from being in such a fast-paced and highly critical society coupled with a seemingly unavoidable food system of highly processed inputs. (This is an Ayurvedic or "energy of food" concept that the more whole and local your foods, the more grounded and whole you will feel). Feeling more grounded and whole means feeling more comfortable in one's body, life, and choices. For this I am incredibly grateful.

And finally, the soul...

It's so hard to know how we've changed on the soul level. Of course I have but I won't be able to see that until I have my life review or however that process works towards the time of leaving the physical body. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and there we might see the change. I am not sure this is the best picture but it was taken the day I finished with Peace Corps, my "Close of Service" date. The picture at the beginning of the post was taken the day I swore in as a volunteer in  Moldova. Om!

After

The Julie and Costea Show

Looking up the definitive definition of the word narcissist allows me to know that is not what I am. And I hardly think that I am alone in my thinking. It's like this: ever since I was a little girl, I felt at times like I was in a movie or a show, on stage, as though people were always watching me. (Ok, so notice my fear of narcissism, but truthfully there is no self-importance or lack of empathy or anything...)  I have no idea where this idea came from, but it's stayed with me, a sense that is at some times stronger than others. Like I am observing myself.

In a world of Instagram updates showing off every little thing we do, my fantastic ideas that people were watching me, have become reality for those who actually want that. I did so many cool things throughout my youth and can actually recall thinking, "Wow, how awesome is life, if only the people could see me now". I know I was not alone in this thinking because of the popularity of Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. These services arose in popularity because there were millions of people thinking that same thing. We're all the same in many ways...

I can't say I have totally taken to showing off everything in my life, nor would I want to. I will go over the reasons why much more in my "the differences between people here and there" and  "how I have changed" posts coming soon. But with all of that, I can't help from daydreaming about the crazy reality that will be mine and Costea's life when we are living and trying to make a go of it in the US of A. And in my mind that plays my life like a show, I mean, we are practically a reality TV sensation :)

So why will our life be so crazy?

Starring Constantin Grozav as Costea

For one, Costea has never been to the USA. He's met a lot of Americans, mostly Peace Corps volunteers, which one might argue are a breed of their own, but he's never experienced the kind of diversity he'll meet there: people of every color, religion, sexual identity and beyond. Of course I sense he is an accepting person but it will still be a big difference for him. Costea does know English so he'll get along in conversation. But the little sayings and idioms will surely get him at times. For example, one time when I was really mad (warning: not so yogic moment ahead...) I called him a 'piece of shit'. Rather than getting mad at my diarrhea of the mouth he started laughing because that just sounded so funny to him. He was imagining a little piece of poop and why I would call him that. I had to explain that it's a saying people use in America to describe a person who is not so nice. SO...one can imagine how many of those we'll go through.

and Julie Frieswyk as Julie

Next, though I am American, I haven't been in the USA at all in two and a half years. I have changed indeed and will have to find my place in my new role as an employee somewhere, a wife in America, and hopefully in some part of some awesome and supportive community of friends. But as the native between us, I will be the "root" so to speak. Costea won't have any roots and I need to be grounded enough for both of us. And for a girl who loves to fly, this will be a whole new challenge.

Lastly, I will share that Costea and I have quite of a bit of an age difference. I am the older one and surprisingly not too many people here have thought too much of it. We'll see if that's the same in America. I honestly always thought I would marry someone my senior, but you know, when you're the kind who moves with life rather than planning so hard, life surprises and amazes you constantly. 

I figure that as an outlet and for entertainment, I can document our transition to life in America a bit. I already have a few seasons of our show and maybe even a feature film played out in my head with about 1,000 different paths, variants and outcomes. It should all be interesting. Thinking about sharing our craziness makes me a little nervous and feeling quite vulnerable. I have definitely become a more private person in my time here. But the lessons we'll be sure to learn are probably too juicy not to share. And the laughs...

We want to be healthy and fit and introducing Costea to the "health nut" version of myself will be interesting. I can't wait to juice with him and do cleanses and experiment with food. We want to be more active than we've been here. There aren't exactly national parks and tennis courts around here. I want to hike and take yoga classes and to both take up tennis. Costea was the captain of his volleyball team so hopefully he can find some way to play wherever we end up. Oh and that...that's just another twist to this story...we don't know where we're going to live yet! A few irons in the fire but nothing for sure. So much is open and we're keeping our hearts and minds open. Finding our way around my friends who seemingly all have mortgages and babies, the new friends we make, our professional lives, and family, will keep us busy and above all, hopefully happy. This will be challenging...! This is life.

Just Because

This is what came up today.

We all go through hard times. Dark times. Life is both. Light and dark. Finding a graceful way to move between these two places...that is true success.

Someone is in that dark place right now. Maybe it's you.

Here's my letter to you:

Dear Beloved,

I am not sure exactly what you're going through but I can sense it. What I know is that all great souls have to reach some place of darkness before a period of intense light, so that they may recognize and go after that light. So that they will remember the other side of the coin. We have heard of "the dark night of the soul".

My own first deep dive into the dark was when my brother died. It was sudden and traumatic and took a long time to process. And that's OK. Life is just an experiment for processing all that happens around us. We experience things as happening "to" us but really we're all just trillions of mattered-particles spinning around and bumping into eachother and it's our emotions that start clinging to "things". The harder the clinging, the bigger the lesson. It sounds so cold...that the great sages could move through deaths and losses without showing emotion. However, this was just out of a place of complete understanding that all that was happening was in many ways an illusion and quite temporary. That all that is "real" lasts forever. And when something is lost or changes, it wasn't "real" and just an experience.

So that is the question? What does actually last forever? Really? Not our bodies, our jobs, our homes, even our relationships (although I like to think some carry on with us!). What is left? Our Selves. Everything else can go in a split second.

Life seems to offer us these sometimes seemingly "terrifying, paralyzing, how-the-heck will I survive?" lessons. And I ask myself, WHY?! WHY THIS LESSON? WHAT DO I NEED TO LEARN HERE? I cry, I feel sad, sorry...but then...finally...I remember how many lessons I have payed for in my life: yoga, cooking, nutrition, dance...all areas I want to learn more about for my personal growth and to in turn help others. And what I have realized, is that sometimes we don't get to sign-up for and attend lessons, they are simply brought TO us. And these are the ones that matter most. Because God/the Universe brought them and knew we needed them and they will shape our souls into exactly the shape they need to be. IF we pass of course.

How do we pass? Well, I guess only we can know if we have moved through something with the most grace, surrender and acceptance we can muster. And each time we go through that darkness we pick up a new strength, a new tool.  I wish you all of those things right now.

Be gentle with your Self. It will get better. I promise.

XOm

All Abuzz. (or 10 Things I Learned this Year in Moldova)

Laying on the "hospital" bed this morning, I become acutely aware of the fact that I was in a completely different place than where I grew up, from "my culture". I used the word hospital in quotes because it was actually an old military hospital and the office I was visiting was that of a massage therapist. The room was large and stark with separate "booths" for the massage therapist's patients. The furniture was old, straight out of the Soviet 70's. There was a light buzzing sound and the light  sound of the radio in the background further compounded my recognition of "foreignness" by producing elevator-music-like Russian ballads. 


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Last Friday marked one-year since I arrived here in Moldova as a Peace Corps Volunteer. It was a  nice reason to celebrate and also to take some time to reflect on what I have learned this year-about Moldova, about life, about my Self. I quickly realized how comfortable I am here. I truly feel "home". However, there are certain incidents that pop up to remind me that I am definitely some place different. (More below). Here I have compiled a short list of the top 10 interesting things I have either learned, or solidified my belief in, over this past year:


1. People are People-no matter where you live, people have the same basic fears, hopes, desires, and needs. These fluctuate in types and sizes based on culture, socio-economic status and background,of course, but BASICALLY...we all want to belong, to have fun, to be acknowledged, to be loved.
2. Life is Life-no matter where you go, life has ups and downs, dark and light, the good and the bad. Our experience as to how profound or dramatic this wheel of life is, depends more greatly on our inner state, than on our outer environment. 
3. Food is yummy-no matter where you are, you will find food you like and it will taste good. (Well, maybe this is one I learned about myself!). My favorite foods in Moldova are: Голубцы (cabbage rolls), mamaliga (a kind of cornmeal-like polenta), борщ (borscht-red with beets and a dallop of sour cream), халва (halva made from sunflower seeds), the pumpkin seeds, and all the fresh local veggies and fruits found at the базар (outdoor market)
4. Friends are important-back home, if I was having a mental breakdown, there were a handful of close friends and family I could easily call. Now, I have to check to see who is on Skype, what is the time, wait for an email reply, or trust the new people around me to not judge and just share with them. In these kinds of situations one quickly realize how important close and trustworthy relationships are. You also realize the importance your relationship with your Self.(the most important!)
5. Language is a big deal-You wouldn't think it's such a big deal: "ok so my family grew up speaking Russian, yours Romanian, maybe we both don't speak each perfectly but..." Well-it IS. I am constantly asked why I am learning to speak Russian in Moldova, a predominantly Romanian-speaking culture. I have to explain first that is wasn't my choice, it was assigned to me, and then I try to go into the fact that there are people in this country who don't understand Romanian that actually need assistance as well. My idealistic side says, "Hey look we all speak the language of friendship and understanding". But that view gets kicked in the butt every time...
6. I could probably live anywhere and be OK-I suspected this about myself, and now I know. Давай! (let's go!)
7. Massage is important-I have three different massage therapists in my phone. No matter how much yoga, sleep, water, sunshine ect. I get, I find I need touch and my muscles require some work. Some might say it's a waste of money, I say they're missing out!
8. Transparency is king-It does NO HELP to hide one's feelings. This is true EVERYWHERE, but when you're in a foreign place and people act differently culturally, there is no "reading between the lines" to figure out what the heck you want/don't want. You HAVE to SPEAK UP and be clear. Wow, that's a tough one coming from America where we tend to sugarcoat everything.
9. Russian music is fun- Elka-Provence Tочна! And so is Romanian!  Kamelia-Prima oara
10. Soviet Winnie the Pooh is cuter than the American version.


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I hope you have enjoyed reading this list as much as I enjoyed writing it! I had a rough weekend this past one. After the joyous one-year anniversary celebrations, I discovered that my bank accounts had been hacked. I won't go into the details, but needless to say, such an experience can set you on a spin. After one night of lost sleep, I decided to not let such a "life experience" get the best of me. It was my second bout of theft while here and that is certainly more frequent than when I lived in the U.S. However, life is life (as mentioned above). 


Good and bad things happen. There are "good" and "bad" people everywhere. However, it is our inner life reflected out that will shape our experience of the world around us. We can spin, we can be stagnant...we can BUZZ a harmonious and joyous vibration. I chose to stop the spinning, to put on Vinnie Pooh (promise me you'll watch it-I laugh each time) and laugh, to get a massage in a room that buzzed...buuuuuzzzzzzzzzzzz! 


LIFE HAPPENS. How will you BEE in that?


XOm!

Star, Star, Teach Me How to Shine, Shine

Light fixture I liked on recent trip to Budapest-key word, LIGHT

Just had to throw in a little Moldovan love. My host sister, Diana, in traditional dress at the Cricova Hram, or city day, in May. She danced the hora with her friends for all the town. It was awesome!

So. It's been a while. I have been asking myself almost daily at this point, "Why aren't I writing on my blog?" It's not that I don't think about writing. Perhaps it's more that my thoughts don't come together in any way that I see worth sharing. Usually, an entire blog post is written in my head while I do some mundane task like showering or making breakfast. Once I finish said task, I open my notebook and viola. It hasn't been like that lately. I can't quite put it into words, but it goes alongside a post I had written last summer about processing. There seem to be long periods of time where I just can't share enough. Life seems, well, novel. It's all churning and epiphanies and pondering. And then there are other times. When life seems just plain confusing. Nothing seems to connect, it's all swirling and whirling and there's no making sense of it. As you can guess, this has been life for me over the past few months...whirling and twirling and staying afloat.


Don't get me wrong. It's not as though I have been sitting on my tush, down and out, nor depressed. I have in fact been so busy with my work here and with keeping my health at a reasonable place, that I have to remind myself to come up for air every once in a while. Like today for example. I have been waking up with mild fevers in the morning the last few days and just feeling all-around pooey. I called my partners to say I was going to take a day to just stay home and rest. Wow. Look what happens when I do that...I actually write a blog post. I needed some hours to be with just me to put it together, to be able to communicate what I am going through, and as to why I haven't been sharing. 


I want to share. It's the greatest joy in life-right? I mean, you experience something, you learn something from that, and then you share.  Whether to warn the other about that type of experience, to tickle them with the laughter of your story, or to share a valuable insight about the nature of life, sharing our experiences connects us all in a profound way.


I hope that with this "breaking of the ice" I can re-open my conversation with you all and start to share again. I am not so sure that the clarity has returned, I am still in somewhat of a fog (more on my suspicions of the WHYS for another post)...but the intention is there. And isn't that what matters most? The reasons WHY we do what we do...


In respect to what I have just shared, I realized I was listening to  The Frames as  I wrote this post. And thus, the title of this post is from one song (and it's a full moon right now which isn't quite a star but DOES shine!), and another has inspired me with following refrain/reminder:


We have all the time in the world, to get it right, to get it right.
We have all the love in the world, to shed a light, to shed a light.


I suppose it doesn't really matter much that I have taken this time away from writing, from sharing. Just so long as I do shed some light. 


XOm

The Day of the Kittens

It has taken me a while to share this post.  It was written back in July, towards the end of my Pre-Service Training (PST).  It can be so hard to be so vulnerable.  But today, today I am ready.  I am OK to bare it all.  You see, for one reason or another, today I have decided that you love me.  In the past I might have instead thought that you may find me interesting but perhaps odd, perhaps wish I was a different way.  Or more likely, that you don't really like me.  But not today.  From now on you love me.  And regardless of all of that, whatever you do feel is your business, and none of mine.  But in my mind, yes, you love me as I love you.
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Monday was a strange one.  It never ceases to amaze me the way that the Universe delivers messages....

I decided to take a different route to school for my Russian lesson.  I left early so I would have time to check my email at a Wi-Fi spot near the town market and to look over my homework before class.  I like to be prepared.  But certainly we cannot be prepared for everything.

It was about 7:50AM and I spotted a small dog in the road.  I spoke to him in the baby voice I tend to take on when talking to animals, as if they just might understand me. At the least it must be some way to convey that I am there to love and nurture and not harm.  Well this little pup, though I thought was cool with me, decided to give me a little nip in the back of my leg after I had passed him.  What?  I whipped around, threw my hands in the air and said, “Ayyy!  Pachemu?”  (Russian transliteration for “why?”).  He just stood there looking at me, wagging his tail as if nothing had happened. 

A few steps ahead, I stumbled upon what I believe the Universe was “preparing me" for, a message my heart was ready to receive.  Since I had already had my run-in with dog #1, all dogs and small things moving were pronounced and calling my attention.  I quickly spotted another dog that seemed to be sniffing and pushing around with his nose a little bird of some sort.  But wait…if it was a bird it would fly away.  I picked up my pace.  It was no bird but a very small kitten.  And the events that unfold from here.

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I saw that the kitten was so small and figured it must have been born very recently.  I shooed away the dog and began to look around, perhaps hoping to spot the mother.  But something else had caught my attention-a sound.  It sounded like crying…it was coming from the dumpster.  Could there be more kittens in there?  I bent to look more closely at the small kitten and noticed she was very dirty.    I was a sort of afraid to touch her, what if she was sick?  Could I get sick?  But she was in the road and crying so I quickly swept her to the grass before heading to investigate the dumpster.  I followed the sound to find another small kitten on top of the trash heap.  This kitten was in much worse shape than the first.  I saw some blood in its neck.  This kitten was crying so loudly and trying so hard to move, “anywhere but here” it seemed to be calling.  I agreed.  You will die small being, anywhere but here.  I found a plastic bag in my lunch sack and used it to scoop up the kitten from the dumpster and transferred it to a shady spot in the grass under a tree down the road a couple of meters.  It didn’t cease the cry or to stop writhing.  With legs that seemed broken, this little creature, so new to the world and yet so close to leaving, had no balance.  The emotions which had been brimming like a cup about to overflow, came.  My cup runneth over.

The other kitten, who was moving with some health but whose tail shook with the trauma of her situation, moved to my side and there she stayed.  I cracked open a boiled egg from my lunch giving half to the healthy kitten and placing half with the dying kitten.  Both tried to eat but the dying kitten soon lost the energy to try and the healthy one seemed to choose being close to me over the immediate nourishment.  I began to cry.  “It’s OK little one, it’s OK to surrender.  It’s OK to go.  Just close your eyes and be at peace”, I told the dying kitten.  I began to pray, “Please God, take this small creature of yours into your hands and ease her suffering.  Please let her feel your love and help her to surrender to the peace that is to come.”  And the other kitten was climbing up my leg, desperate to have some protection, something to hold on to.  Together we went to my bag for water to wash the sick kitten of filth and blood.  How did this happen?  The sick kitten cried as I bathed her and slowly she began to inch towards the plastic bag with which I had carried her.  Her head resting inside the bag, and the healthy kitten curled upon my foot.  I sang a bhajan I had learned at the ashram:Mother Ma 

Mother Ma Mother Ma Mother Ma
Be with me, Be with me, Be with me, Be with me
Set me free, set me free, set me free
Mother set me free….

With one life passing, and another so fragile looking for some comfort and nourishment, somewhere to belong, I began to see the message.

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My parents moved from my childhood home on Sunday.  They walked out the doors of the home where they raised their three children, one last time.  They pulled out of the driveway where we played tennis and basketball, one last time. 

In the dying kitten, as one life was passing, I saw my old life, and parts of my ‘self’ that were indeed, passed on.  “Tell her it’s OK to let go…”  And in the healthy kitten, I can see parts of myself now: healthy enough and trying to make it.  Perhaps a little roughed up, a little naïve and scared, yet strong and capable. 
As I departed from my childhood home in June, from the country where I have lived for 29 years, from my friends and family, one life passed.  And as I prepare to swear in as a Peace Corps Volunteer in a strange land surrounded by new people and places, I will pray for nourishment and I will dole out all I have to offer.  Surrendering to the cycle of life. 

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I could see the sick kitten's breathing becoming less labored-slower, calmer.  I picked up the healthy one, knowing I could not take her with me, that I had no more to offer her than this short time of love, and I laid her next to the sick one.  In my mind they stayed together until the one passed.  I quickly picked up my bag and walked to class.

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Sometimes the messages are harder to hear and sometimes they are loud and clear.  The key is to listen.  Can you hear?

I dedicate this post to the people of Moldova, whom I hope will take me in like the small kitten and whom I hope to nourish in return.

 Om tat sat.

Moment by Moment

The apple crisp was vkucna (tasty)

There are defining moments in our lives, no doubt.  Life is just a whole lot of moments all added up to make a minute, an hour, a day...however we choose to measure.  But how do you measure the quality of a moment?  While some seem rather ordinary, others are extraordinary whether because they are painful or full of joy.  But they are full of life.  They are all equally important of course, adding up to make our lives, but some seem to be rather full of impact.  Perhaps here is the quality.

Today I had one such moment.  Full of impact, fully alive. 

It  was a gorgeously sunny fall day here in Moldova.  I woke up early to make my way to the capital for a meeting about GLOW, a volunteer-led organization intending to empower girls in leadership.  I spent the morning with some fellow volunteers, sipped some (instant) coffee and ate some cookies (very normal here, in fact I am yet to attend a meeting where there are no cookies...).  I was eager to get back to my training village, Cricova, where I am staying for another 2 weeks of language training, so that I could make apple crisp with my host sister.  And so I breezed out of the meeting and out the front doors.  However, I did take a moment to stop by the guard's desk to see if I had any packages.  It was recently my birthday and some friends from home had mentioned I should watch the mail.  Sure enough, there was a bright red box with Mickey Mouse on it from my friend Erin.  I picked it up and off I went to catch bus #2.

I was walking briskly as I didn't want to find myself spending too many moments waiting for the next bus, I wanted the 12:05.  So I, with my red box, moved down the sidewalk-all flashes of black sweater, blonde hair and red box.  At one point, I looked up and saw one of the Peace Corps language teachers, Angela, walking towards me on the opposite side of the street.  I called out to her, "Priviet Angela!"  She replied, in Russian, "Hello Julie, how are you?" as we each continued briskly towards our intended destinations.   

What ensued was a simple, fast and passing conversation, all in Russian:

Me: I'm good, all is normal, such beautiful weather!  And you?

Angela: Me too, all is good. 

Me: Bye, see you tomorrow.

Angela: Bye!

What was significant about this conversation was not what was said, but that it was followed by a moment where I realized I had spoken entirely in my new language without the premeditation of what I would say.  This doesn't happen very often, not yet.  It felt natural.  I felt like it was totally normal for me to be walking down a street in Chisinau, Moldova, seeing people I knew and exchanging pleasantries, in Russian.  I felt like I belonged. 

All in a moment.


Like watching a child grow, you cannot tell moment by moment, day by day, how they are changing.  But there are moments where a great leap in growth is realized.  And it's in reflection of these moments where we are gifted with understanding our growth and seeing the lessons this life has to offer.  Isn't is SO COOL to be alive?

Om tat sat.

Today? A Celebration

Flowers growing outside of my host family's house in Cricova

Eating sweet watermelon with my host cousin Elena

It’s July 26, 2011 and I have exactly ten nights left in Cricova.  As we are wrapping up our Pre-Service Training (PST) and gearing up for the actual volunteer experience, there are surely many thoughts swirling, minds twirling.  For me, I have been quite careful not to place much energy or thought into my move to Balti.  I have seen where I will live, I have met my work partners and all will unfold as it will. 

I do anticipate that as the swearing-in as a Peace Corps Volunteer approaches and as I am packing my bags here in Cricova, I will experience some emotion.  These feelings will range from fear to excitement  to anxiety and all in between.  But there will be one constant: bottomless, omnipresent light.  Let me explain…

This blog post is in no way meant to be a “brag about how wonderful it is that I can move about the world and keep a smile on my face and oh how wonderful it is to be me” post.  No, this post is a celebration of learning and acceptance...of surrender and through all, of feeling…this little light of mine. 

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When I was a wee thing, my mom sent me to Vacation Bible School.  I remember sitting on the cool pews of the church on hot summer days and belting out songs about this little light ‘o mine.  I was pretty into it at the time.  And I am finding that same song popping into my head here in Moldova…so far from home…so far from being that little girl.  And yet she is very much still a part of me. 

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Summers when I was growing up, we would spend the last week of July and the first week of August on Cape Cod.  We stayed in the beautiful town of Wellfleet where one could relish in any multitude of summer activities.  We would spend our days on the gorgeous beaches playing paddle ball and boogie boarding.  Afterwards we would stop by one of the fresh water ponds for a rinse and head back to the house for steamed clams and corn on the cob.  These two weeks were by far my favorite of the year.  But there came a time when those vacations stopped.  My sister married, my brother passed away, I "grew up".  I would try my best to emulate some semblance of a summer vacation with friends.  We would rent a place, or stay in someone’s lake house for a week.  I would drag boyfriends to the Cape to try to relive my younger days.  One summer, when I was 26 I even moved to a resort town for a entire summer after being laid-off from my full-time job.  I sensed my soul needed the fresh air, the excitement of summer living, and of course, the ocean.  A rebirth was just beginning…

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Yes, this  post is to celebrate that today, at 29 years of age, I am perfectly happy to be spending my last week of July and first week of August in a developing/transitioning nation riding a bike up and down poorly paved streets and dirt roads with my 20 year old host sister by my side.  It is to celebrate the joy to be found in waking at dawn to prepare for lessons in Russian, the fun in forging new friendships with folks whose paths I would have never otherwise crossed.  I am writing this post to share with you the immense joy I feel regarding the fact that I no longer feel that I need (or am entitled to?) a “summer vacation”, a beach house, trips, tans or tonics to experience the absolute joys that are a summer day: fresh fruit, long hours of sunlight, and laughs with friends, crickets filling the air. 

That today, a day where I couldn’t help but beam a smile straight from my heart, I truly feel at peace…THIS is a blessing. THIS is life and I am wise enough to know that THIS feeling will not last.  Times ahead will be hard, but I know that at the bottom of all the emotions that I will go through, of all doubts that I will have, and all times I will question, “what am I doing here?”, there ALWAYS be: this little light of mine.  


I'M GONNA LET IT SHINE!

Om tat sat.  With love and gratitude.

PS-Can I just add that as I wrote the final words of this post my host mother came inside calling my name and I followed her outside to find fresh beet, carrot, apple juice?!  WHAT?  The heart sings and the universe rewards J

My Two Sides, Sprituality and Lil' Wayne

Driving in the car today, the song of the moment came on and I turned it to full blast. As I did my best hand pumping and hip swaying, I could feel the beat of the song through my entire body. And this is one side of me. I have always loved hip-hop, dropping low, sexy looks, long hair, long legs, high fashion, outrageous parties, delicious foods, full body massage and the list goes on...Yes, this is my sensual side, the part of me enjoying living on Earth-my "animal being".

And then there is the other side of me. She takes the path less traveled. She abstains from over-indulgences and has led long periods of abstinence. She is deeply entrenched in spirituality, in touch with her intuition, and able to see the "good/God" in others. This is what makes me a "spiritual being".

Animal + Spiritual being = Human

Anyone who knows me well knows of these two sides all too well. They get me into trouble, mostly with myself. Imagine indulging in a night of drinks, boat rides with music blaring, hanging with a bunch of men, kissing one of them- all on a whim. Having an absolute blast. In the moment of this particular evening, I was high on all my senses. Attention, speed, thrill, music, touch...but we know what goes up must come down. Right? Because the next day I was so GUILT-ridden.  I was in my worst nightmare when just 12 hours before I was having an amazing time "letting loose". I fret and I panicked, "What are people saying? what are they thinking?" The bigger question is "WHO CARES?" BIG WHOOP. What a waste of energy.

And I'm Like F- You

It's useful to say "Forget You" to those who judge. And this includes my holier than thou self. I have been getting therapy for the past six months. It has been a long time coming-my first attempt at working with a truly outside objective voice. Yesterday she guided me to a HUGE breakthrough: that I had overdeveloped this "spiritual" side of myself at a young age in order to escape from having to deal with what was happening in my everyday life. And as soon as I did this (about 6th grade), I immediately began to heavily judge myself and others.

I can clearly recall one afternoon when I was maybe 12 or 13. I was in the forest with some girlfriends. It was a Saturday. I was sensing that the three of them were ganging up on me and making fun of me. I can't recall what about but how I handled it was to walk off on my own. Eventually they became worried about me and set off to find me. I had made my way a swing by the creek we were playing in and they asked what I was doing. I replied, "I'm talking to God". Their response was one of awe. They asked if I did this often, did I ever hear a reply. This was good. They weren't making fun of me anymore. And so it began. Can't deal with the here and now, I'll go up. And while this is not a bad move, it's not "wrong", and it's a beautiful thing to turn to a higher power when we are in despair, but it did give me an excuse to separate myself from other.

The truth is that even though I am seeing my spiritual tendencies in a new light, I still am-to my core-a very spiritual person. There is a reason that I had the tendency to go this place. I probably was indeed talking to God on that swing-but was it out of a place of connection or out of a place of escape? I see this now and I embrace this part of me as well as the girl who likes to boogie down, wear beautiful clothes and go out for delicious meals. I'll always be the yoga teacher talking with teenagers about Facebook AND the co-worker making you get on the floor to stretch and breathe between meetings. I am jubilent Julie. I love looking at the pages of Vogue and standing on my head. I like Lil' Wayne and Krishna Das. I eat goji berries and potato chips.

THAT is who I am. I am both. I am one. I am me. The only. And you are the only YOU. And that is what makes it so darn cool to be human. We all come here with some truth to share. That is our one job. We each hold a piece of the one Truth and the more we share it, the more we all come together as one. Once we embrace our many sides, we actually become closer to our own true nature and God.

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Now go ahead and play this would ya? Because it's fun. And you know what? Lil' Wayne is a pretty deep dude. Catch this line: "...but most of ya'll don't get the picture 'less the flash is on."

I see that he is saying we can't see the truth a lot of the time until it's made utterly impossible to ignore.

Om tat sat. I'm off to dance!

Big Day for Breakthroughs: The Next Big Change and Why it's Already Here

Seeing that I am not an astrologist, I cannot tell anyone when auspicious days are for them or for the collective. All that I can do is to share what I feel is going on. We had a strong full moon on Friday-in Leo no less. Intensity, flare-ups, expression, merging of the collective make it a Full Moon of breakthroughs.

Over the weekend I couldn't help but feel that many people, perhaps the collective, were feeling an uprising "unrest", a feeling that large changes are coming. This has likely been a feeling many of us have been having our entire life. If you are reading these words right now then you are probably someone who has had the feeling at one point or another that you were born at a rather crucial point in humanity and that some how, some way, you will be a part of the large changes headed our way.

It's Already Here

The truth is that these "large changes" have already happened and continue to make exponential leaps and bounds. The fact that this morning I had an amazing session with my therapist and that now not even an hour later I can press some buttons to put together my insights from the session (insights that have to do with my lif- sure-but with the collective as we are all in this human experience together), push another button and BOOM-it's in front of you...THAT is large change from what your parents were doing to share their stories at your age. There is no denying the exponential growth that technology has made over the last century. It is remarkable. And we are here, living in this age, to figure out how to use this to take humanity to the next level of consciousness. To use this technology to help rather than harm.

I think most of us can attest to the harm that technology is capable of. I blame a large percentage of anxiety, depression and chronic illness not ON technology but ON the human response to what it has made possible. Technology didn't ask us to check our email twenty times per day. Technology didn't determine we would have to have our cell phones on at all times and answer every call that came in. Technology did not demand of us that since we had 24 hour access to information and the electricity to have false daylight 24 hours we have to stay awake and pound on a keyboard for the grander part of our days, our lives.

No, these are behaviours that we as humans have developed around technology therefore placing unachievable demands of our ability to live a full life both in the virtual and physical worlds. At least that is how it has been. The change that I am feeling, the large change, is a flip of this coin. The tale of 2012 has been looming around us for some time and it begs of me to share that this timing, this event, this CHANGE, is that of the collective being able to switch from slave of technology to wise master.

Mind Over Matter

Anyone who has studied spirituality or even psychology will know about the battle of the mind. Anyone who born human will live it. It is the same with modern advances is ways we disseminate information and share our lives with each other. The mind can take over, can cause havoc and heartache making up stories about the way things "are". Technology can also take over when we allow that it demand how, when and where we place our attention and energy. We can flip both around once we become the wise master of each. With the mind this is through meditation, mindfulness, breathing (pranayama), proper nutrition and detachment (varaigya). With technology, it is the same. Simplify, discern (viveka) what and where deserves your energy, and embrace both your physical and second (virtual) self.

I can admit that for a long time I thought of one's existence "online" was a shallow, narcissistic and wasteful place. I was judgemental about it for two reasons: one being that it intimidated me. This made me feel like not matter how I might try, I could never catch up with those who knew how to write code, had amazing blogs, followers, friends, fans ect. The other reason being that in my deep dive into a strict yoga practice, there was a general thought-form that it was MUCH too vata-inducing and "unreal" to exist in a place like the Internet. Now that I have been living outside of the ashram life for the better part of a year and immersed myself in aspects of life that I had shunned for so long, I have been able to discern and discover some new ways of thinking, a new paradigm, that works much better for my own mind. And it's this: that it is not only OK to embrace technology and the idea of a "second self" online, it is actually the way things are supposed to being going. Things are speeding up-yes. Things are changing more and more exponentially-yes. This is because we are evolving much more quickly and this is EXCITING and SUPPOSED to be happening. The second self gives us the opportunity to express what is in our hearts and minds without attachment to physical place, body, stutus ect. As we move forward, our goal as humans is to be able to speak and live within the physical realm as openly and freely as we do the virtual. These worlds collide creating a new possibility for mankind.

Using the Internet to share ideas is accelerating human evolution. All I have ever aspired to be is a source of transformation- bringing humanity to the next level of existence. A level where suffering is less, joy is more and people embrace one another. Our physical self needs to have attention, love and care. Grow your food, cook for your family and neighbors. Do yoga asanas, take walks, decorate your home as brings you joy. But also share of your soul, bare your truth to the farthest reaches of the planet. Your second self, your virtual self, might bring that nugget of truth to another soul that guides them to the light they need.


Further Reading and Inspiration
Here is some further reading from some of the sources I have come across on the topic of human evolution and technology. These are Digital Warriors, bringers if light, and sharing Fierce Wisdom. Introduce yourself, follow them on Twitter and prepare to move into the next Big Change. In my next post, I will discuss more of went down in my therapy session-how I am working to bring my own "two selves" together. I am discovering for me, and maybe you have felt this too, that there is a disharmony between how I am living and what I want to be living. I am working hard to have these two sides of me not only know of but embrace one another.

-Satya Colombo, Shooting Stardust at the moon: time and space died yesterday: prepare for takeoff

-Ev Bouge, Data Transfers from the Heart

-Gwen Bell

-Watch Amber Case's TED talk, We are all cyborgs now for some more background on "second selves".

In my next post, I will discuss more of what went down in my therapy session-how I am working to bring my own "two selves" together. That I can share that I am in therapy is in part a large step for me... I am discovering for me, and maybe you have felt this too, that there is a disharmony between how I am living and how I want to be living. I am working hard to have these two sides of me not only know of but embrace one another. I certainly don't claim to have answers, only that I am incredibly grateful to have a space to share what I do learn. And to learn from you.

Om tat sat. Om shanti. Om peace.