Book review on "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck" (9/4/17)

This book arrived in my life at just the right moment. Originally, I was a bit hesitant based on the title. I'm glad I didn't give in to judging a book by its cover because this book did not disappoint in the slightest. Once you keep laughing and get past all the blunt F bombs more so in the beginning (which only adds to its humor and charm), "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck worms its way into your psyche if you allow your heart and soul to go down the rabbit hole with Mark Manson.

It's part hero's journey, part helpful suggestions, and part (non-bullshitty type) self-help insights on life drawn from psychology, philosophy, and a mindful stance of "not giving a fuck" (ie, choosing what to give a fuck about and more so what NOT to give a fuck about in the overall scheme of things). It's nothing that I don't already know on some level, but it's his delivery and particularly the way he integrates it all that drew me in. This book is like a wake up call when you need a swift kick in the ass in your life.

I also strongly identified with his life changing event that he mentions towards the end of the book: how a close friend of his suddenly and unexpectedly died and how that then redefined him as "before" and "after." While it can profoundly transform a person, tragic events don't have to happen for us to alter our perceptions, the choices we make, and the way we live. It can happen right now. Mark Manson emphasizes that we all have choices and we will always have problems. A problem free life is boring, unavoidable, and leaves no room for growth. It's about choosing the good problems to have that will lead us on a journey of meaning and fulfillment, even in the midst of pain.

Halfway through the book, I was curious how other readers on Goodreads felt about this book. Not surprisingly, there were people that either loved or hated this book. If you're wanting a book that will make you feel good about your sense of self, your life choices, and let you know that you're an exceptional/special person....well, this isn't the book for you. And this is why I fucking loved it. Refreshing, honest, emotionally intelligent, thought-provoking, and real....this is something severely lacking in society these days. Everyone needs to read this book, especially in the United States of Entitlement. Perhaps the best book I've devoured in less than two days in years.

Read. This. Fucking Book. And if you don't, well....I just don't give a fuck. You're missing out.

The best "teachers"

Sometimes the best "teachers" in life are those individuals that challenge and remind you of your integrity, kindness, and compassion in the face of their lack of humanity. Resentment, nasty criticism, and self-righteousness make for the perfect cocktail of the ego's dark side. I've never really understood why people hold on ever so tightly to resentment when it's counterproductive to their own sense of well-being and overall happiness in life. Granted, resentments can pop up for anyone (myself included) at times in life...but what makes a difference is whether you allow them to fester or examine it, work through it...and let it go, for your own sanity and well-being above all else. It's just not worth it. Yet so many are stuck in their ego (being "right" or "better than" another infallible human being). For the person on the receiving end of a "grudge" or a resentment that cannot or will not be forgiven, this can trigger uncomfortable and unpleasant feelings. One may feel angry, guilty, unworthy, maybe even "attacked." Depending on experiences you've gone through in life and grown from (or not), you can choose to take it personally or move forward (preferably without those toxic people and situations).

I got to thinking about this "perfect cocktail" tonight as I reflected on how that truly has been the theme of the day. Maybe there's a lesson in there for me. I had a client talking at length about anger and resentment he harbors against a family member. He acknowledges that she may never change but has been unable to let go of it, so much so that his resentment triggers self-destructive behaviors and sometimes leads to a drinking relapse. His resentment hurts him more than it hurts the family member.

Interestingly, I was on the receiving end of some nasty criticism and resentment tonight. Last night I had emailed someone from my past that I had not communicated with in quite some time. I won't go into the specifics here because it's too personal to blog about, but basically the only reason I contacted this person was to let him know about a friend's death. I felt compelled to let him know because if it wasn't for him, I never would have known this friend who was such a huge, loving presence in my life. My email was well-written, informative and to the point. Nothing was brought up about the past. I even expressed gratitude for having met my friend because of him. I was pleased with what I expressed.

The response I received, however, was completely opposite. It was fraught with resentments from the past, fueled by his judgments of both myself and my friend with an incredibly self-righteous demeaning tone. Even in light of my friend's death, this individual still chose to hold on tightly to his ego and discard any sense of humanity. Some people just never learn. Some people would rather be assholes and say or act somewhat abusively to puff up their own sense of "power" than be kind, forgiving, and compassionate. I've encountered this same M.O. from a few other individuals over the years and while in the past I felt very emotionally wounded by this kind of viciousness (for lack of a better description or interpretation), I quickly bounced back from this particular incident tonight. I was shocked and slightly upset by the unexpected harsh words for a short time, but in the overall scheme of things I chose to not take it personally nor embrace his words as truth or reality.

This is is what I have learned from the best unkind "teachers:" Life is too short to hold onto the bullshit. I don't know about you, but I'd rather hold onto the good: kindness, love, compassion, gratitude, peace, and self-acceptance.

With that said, I'd like to make a shout-out to all the assholes that have been a part of my life. Thank you very much for teaching me to not be like you.

Book therapy

This book literally moved me to tears on at least a few occasions. Having lost someone as close and dear to me as the author did, I could relate all too well to the magnitude of all encompassing seesaw of emotions and existential questioning that follows. I enjoyed reading how Sankovitch transformed her pain with the healing salve of her most reliable of "saviors:" books. I can wholeheartedly identify with the healing power of books, which has always been my most comforting of friends during not only the best times of my life but also during painful times, lonely times, and times of challenging transitions. Sankovitch takes readers on a one year journey, reading one whole book for each day of the year. As she reads, she also reflects and finds connection that leads her to a place of gratitude, joy, and a sense of purpose.

With that said, I highly recommend this book to everyone (especially bibliophiles) and leave you with the following quotes that really spoke to me:

"For years, books had offered to me a window into how other people deal with life, its sorrows and joys and monotonies and frustrations. I would look there again for empathy, guidance, fellowship, and experience. Books would give me all that, and more."

"The world shifts, and lives change. Without warning or reason, someone who was healthy becomes sick and dies. An onslaught of sorrow, regret, anger, and fear buries those of us left behind. Hopelessness and helplessness follow. But then the world shifts again--rolling on as it does--and with it, lives change again. A new day comes, offering all kinds of possibilities. Even with the experience of pain and sorrow set deep within me and never to be forgotten, I recognize the potent offerings of my unknown future. I live in a weird world, shifting and unpredictable, but also bountiful and surprising. There is joy in acknowledging that both the weirdness and the world roll on but even more, there is resilience."

"Words are witness to life: they record what has happened, and they make it all real. Words create the stories that become history and become unforgettable. Even fiction portrays truth: good fiction IS truth. Stories about our lives remembered bring us backward while allowing us to move forward."

"The only balm to sorrow is memory; the only salve for the pain of losing someone to death is acknowledging the life that existed before."

"The purpose of great literature is to reveal what is hidden and to illuminate what is in darkness."

"Sharing a love of books and of one particular book is a good thing. But is is also a tricky maneuver, for both sides. The giver of the book is not exactly ripping open her soul for a free look, but when she hands over the book with the comment that it is one of her favorites, such an admission is very close to the baring of the soul. We are what we love to read, and when we admit to loving a book, we admit that the book represents some aspect of ourselves truly, whether it is that we are suckers for romance or pining for adventure or secretly fascinated by crime."

"In reading about experiences both light and dark, I would find the wisdom to get through my own dark times."

"Maybe that is what love is: the taming of desire into something solid and sustainable."

"We all face mysteries--'Why did that have to happen?'--that we will never be able to understand. But we can, and we do, find order somewhere, whether it be in our books, our friends, our family, or our faith. Order is defined by how we live our lives. Order is created by how we respond to what life dishes out to us. Order is found in accepting that not all questions can be answered."

Along the axis of Time

If time was relative to a particular person, place, or situation.....would we go about our lives any differently? Would we feel more free to do as we please or more anxiety if the concept of "future" did not exist in our minds? Would our relationships be more meaningful or would we feel hopeless that anything could change without the passage of time? Would our mental health be better with no memory of painful events from our past? What if time wasn't constant but broken up into episodes with the ability to hit 'pause' buttons in between? What if there was nothing to 'measure' time? Would we be more productive? Would we be more creative and carefree....or lazy with no goals, nothing to show for? Would we experience beauty more vividly and more appreciation if time was a quality and not a quantity?

Such questions are asked by Alan Lightman in "Einstein's Dreams," an incredibly beautiful poetic novel that curiously and creatively explores the precious value of 'time' in our lives. A good friend of mine suggested this book to me years ago and I finally got around to reading it. I'm glad I did as it is by far the best fiction novel I've ever read. It touched me deeply on a mental, emotional, and spiritual level. It's resonated with me on such a visceral level that I'm having a difficult time articulating it into words.

Coincidentally enough, I started reading the book as 'time' became more present on my mind and in my life....though more from a negative standpoint. I've been feeling annoyed and pissed off at Time these last few months, particularly when it comes to time zones (don't even get me started on how challenging it is to coordinate talking on the phone with family and friends because of this pesky concept) and that feeling of constantly being busy yet not having enough Time to do all that I would like to do....or Time to 'just be.' Or the yearning to hit the 'rewind' button and relive those past episodes with the knowledge (from the future) that I will not see a particular person in a year's time because he will have died by then, thus savoring every moment with him. This excerpt from "Einstein's Dreams" resonates so true:  "In a world without future, each parting of friends is a death. In a world without future, each loneliness is final. In a world without future, each laugh is the last laugh. In a world without future, beyond the present lies nothingness, and people cling to the present as if hanging from a cliff."

I cannot recommend this book enough. I'd even go so far as to say it should be required reading. The world might be a little brighter and joyful if people took these concepts to heart and somehow integrated it into living a meaningful and purposeful life....

Here's a teaser of my favorite excerpts:

"In a world where time is a sense, like sight or like taste, a sequence of episodes may be quick or may be slow, dim or intense, salty or sweet, causal or without cause, orderly or random, depending on the prior history of the viewer." 

"Suppose that time is not a quantity but a quality, like the luminescence of the night above the trees just when a rising moon has touched the treeline. Time exists, but it cannot be measured."

"In a world where time cannot be measured, there are no clocks, no calendars, no definite appointments. Events are triggered by other events, not by time."

"In a world where time is a quality, events are recorded by the color of the sky, the tone of the boatman's call on the Aare, the feeling or happiness or fear when a person comes into a room. The birth of a baby, the patent of an invention, the meeting of two people are not fixed points in time, held down by hours and minutes. Instead, events glide through the space of imagination, materialized by a look, a desire. Likewise, the time between two events is long or short, depending on the background of contrasting events, the intensity of illumination, the degree of light and shadow, the view of the participants."

"In this world, time is a visible dimension. Just as one may looks off in the distance and see houses, trees, mountain peaks that are landmarks in space, so one may look out in another direction and see births, marriages, deaths that are signposts in time, stretching off dimly in the far future. And just as one may choose whether to stay in one place or run to another, so one may choose his motion along the axis of time. Some people fear traveling far from a comfortable moment. They remain close to one temporal location, barely crawling past a familiar occasion. Others gallop recklessly into the future, without preparation for the rapid sequence of passing events."

What have you done/what are you doing/what would you like to do with this powerful and beautiful Time?

Trust: the "faith" of relationships?

There are numerous reasons I could list on why not to trust someone, but I'm more curious to ponder the opposite: What is it that drives one to take the blind leap of faith and choose to trust another human being? Is it dependent upon the relational dynamic? Is it easier or harder to trust an individual vs. a group entity? Are we more likely to trust others with our secrets, feelings, passions? How much trust do we invest when it comes to trusting someone with our life, fidelity, money?

These are questions I've been pondering since I watched the Martin Scorsese movie "Casino" last night. Throughout the movie, I noticed and found it funny that characters repeatedly (and emphatically) made comments about needing to be able to trust one of the other characters....funny because it's a movie that centers around the mob and  there's major underlying deception going on among multiple characters. As much as they can hold their own in certain situations, the ultimate downfall is that the characters chose to trust when it wasn't in their best interest to do so. And the price for trust? Loss of money, loss of mental sanity, loss of love, loss of friendship, loss of life. With so much at stake, why do they trust? Why do any of us trust?

Perhaps trust is to relationships what faith is to religion....belief in something "higher" or better despite the unknown lurking in the shadows. A yearning for connection on an intimate level (whether with a friend, lover, or spouse) overpowers the risk it takes to trust and the consequences that may unfold as a result of that trust. Could it be that we would rather see the humanity in each other than be jaded and completely closed off? Maybe there's hope for humanity after all. Or so I trust.

Organically intimate

Opening up. Letting go. Surrendering. To oneself. The moment. To opportunities for organic intimacy with the self and with friends or lovers. How often do we allow ourselves this in the age of iPhones, iPads, texts, social networking, cyber chats, busy lifestyles and instant gratification? How often do we pick up the phone to share something of depth and meaning with another? Share laughter, spark intellectually stimulating conversation, swap life stories, or otherwise hidden secrets?

We fidget, we resist, we avoid ourselves and each other, we escape into machines and addictions. The humanity that can be found in connecting is fading in the dwindling creative process that takes place when people interact and relate in organic ways....face to face, heart to heart, verbal conversations, eye contact, touch, body language, expression of visceral uncensored emotion, vulnerability (being emotionally "naked," open, honest, and transparent with nothing to hide behind/from).

I could be in the minority that finds these experiences few and far between, but I highly doubt it. Having recently experienced a significant number of these experiences more than the usual (ie, rare), I got to thinking how much different I feel with them vs. without them. Connected. Alive. Joyful. Hopeful. Seen, wanted, desired, understood, known. Real experiences evoke real emotion. Virtual is an illusion that numbs and leaves one extremely wanting. It's no wonder why we as an American society are more depressed, disconnected, empty, unhealthy (physically and emotionally), and overly medicated now more than ever. But it doesn't have to be that way.

It will likely feel very uncomfortable to relax and completely surrender to your physical environment when you've been tethered to the ease of virtual living for so long. But you will feel alive. Earlier this week I had one (of many) such moments. I've recently discovered a new interest and appreciation for relaxation yoga and meditation, something that never struck my fancy until I was at my wit's end with a painful rib injury that left me desperate to try just about anything to heal that much quicker. Sadly, this was my only motivation for going. I'm oddly grateful for that injury though because it gave me the priceless gift of yoga. It's done wonders for my soul. I'm able to relax and let go completely, which speaks volumes since I can rarely turn myself completely to "off" mode. Since I've been practicing this yoga once a week, it's becoming a little more natural and likely I can do so when I'm not in the class.

Then there's meditation. I've never been one to meditate. I never thought I could do it the "right" way, even thought it to be boring, futile, and even a little pretentious. The other night, however, proved me wrong. Within minutes of being asked to think about and visualize those in my life who have been my greatest teachers, mentors, and loving supporters....my eyes (which were shut) filled with tears as I found myself surprisingly overcome with emotion, triggered by memories of people dear to my heart. I was filled with such joy to be reminded of this love and gratitude that could have gone unnoticed otherwise.

As I have been challenging myself, I challenge you to seek out opportunities to live in the organic....that which kindles intimacy and self-discovery, sparks genuine self-expression.

Real is slow, organic, random, messy, risky, at times even ecstacy. A puzzle to be put together. Layers of an onion to be peeled. A gift to be unwrapped and savored.

Sexuality/memoir book recommendation

It can be challenging enough to write about the taboo subject of those who engage in the BDSM and swinger lifestyle, let alone write about it from a perspective of self-discovery and intimate honesty. Suzy Spencer blends and balances the two perfectly in "Secret Sex Lives: A Year on the Fringes of American Sexuality." In between the voyeuristic sharing of her interviews, correspondence, and in person interactions with her subjects, Suzy also courageously explores her own sexuality with curious wonder.

What I most respected and loved about this book wasn't what was said, but how she said it. Not once did I feel the writing was contrived, patronizing, condemning, or even glorifying....which I imagine is difficult not to do when writing about taboo sexual practices. Suzy did not always agree with her subjects, nor could she oftentimes relate to their practices...but she always respected them and she turned something that could be construed as stereotypically "dark" and "dirty" into a very humanistic desire: Finding that sexual spark or passion that exists deep within human beings, yearning to be ignited....to be authentically wanted, seen, and known.

Closeted free spirit

 Photo taken by me, Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest, August 2012.


It's funny how you think you know yourself well....but then one particular day, week, or month comes along to reveal something about yourself you had not noticed before. All this time you gravitated to and admired others that had this special presence about them, not even recognizing maybe the reason is because deep down....you are just like them.

Travelers. Independent thinkers. Unconventional lifestyles that go against the grain of the status quo. Intelligent. Quirky. Friendly and approachable. Walking contradiction. Incredibly curious. Spontaneous. Worldly in one way or another. Crave meaningful experiences and people, no matter how fleeting. Love learning. Open-minded. Dare to be different. Creative. Explorers. Seek adventure. Challenge themselves mentally and physically. Take risks. Usually fearless. Compassionate. Appreciate both the simplicities and complexities of life.

Go ahead. Admit it.

You're a closeted free spirit.

Get Your Gaggle On

I came across this book ("The Gaggle" by Jessica Massa) quite randomly and unexpectedly after reading an article about it on CNN last week. I'm not normally one to be drawn to typical dating/relationship advice self-help-y books....which is exactly why I loved this book so much. While most dating/how-to-find-love books (particularly those geared towards heterosexual women) harp on all the stereotypical "do's" and "don'ts" in order to snag 'the one,' "The Gaggle" turns the focus to one of self-discovery. Incredibly refreshing! It caters to those of us navigating through the confusing post-modern dating world who are looking for something different. After reading this book, I have more insight, optimism, and an overall more relaxed outlook on dating/relationships in the 21st century. I had an epiphany of sorts. Part of my problem had been my mindset. I was going about it all wrong....dating and/or pursuing a long-term relationship in very black and white terms. "The Gaggle" encourages women to explore those shades of grey with an open mind, awareness, and sense of adventure(aka, those various men in your life whom serve a very functional and/or meaningful role without you even realizing it...until you read what's in this book!). I have a great 'gaggle' of fun, intelligent, attractive, and caring men in my life. How can I not feel excited and grateful to have SEVERAL guys in my life that fulfill me in one or more ways?

Melting ice in Annawadi

Pulitzer Prize winner Katherine Boo eloquently and brilliantly captures what is truly a heartbreaking level of abject poverty in a slum of Mumbai (Annawadi), India in "Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity." Boo weaves intimately detailed narratives of a handful of the residents, respectfully revealing the gritty nuances of their day to day existence. Tragic tales juxtaposed against tremendous resiliency and ability to adapt to destructive forces (particularly in regard to inescapable political corruption).

I finished reading this book several hours ago and I'm still struggling with articulating the words to describe my thoughts and feelings about it, nearly speechless. Ever heard human emotions can be narrowed down to seven basic emotions? This is a rare book that will likely trigger all seven for you as it did me: fear, sadness, anger, joy, surprise, disgust, and contempt.

I give this book five stars (and in my estimation, hands down the best work of narrative non-fiction of 2012 thus far!) based on the following factors: 1. Well-written, both in content and with an excellent balance of objectivity as well as articulating the complexities with a humanistic touch. 2. It's a human interest piece that educates without exploitation or self-righteousness. 3.Truthful accounts validated by reliable sources via the documented experiences of residents with notes, video recordings, audiotapes, and photographs. 4.It challenges one's notions on diverse subjects of morality, politics (corruption at its worst), freedom, and loyalty to community vs. individualism/being true to oneself. 5. Despite the tragic subject matter of the book, Katherine Boo subtly reflects the luminous power of the human spirit to live in survival mode and yet experience beauty, hope, and love amidst the worst imaginable living conditions.

"Behind the Beautiful Forevers" reads so much like a work of fiction, I kept having to remind myself "These are REAL people and these disturbing things REALLY did happen...are still happening." I had immense empathy for the "characters" Katherine Boo chronicles. I wanted to reach through the pages and pull them out, take a stand on their behalf...or at the very least, take a stand against injustice with them....to a more safe and peaceful, joyful place.

If you think you have it bad in life, read this book for a brutal awakening that life could be much, much worse. One such example: It's common in the slums to have "jobs" as garbage scavengers, which comes with dangers you can hardly imagine. The most disturbing sentence in the novel: ‎"Where skin broke, maggots got in. Lice colonized hair, gangrene inched up fingers, calves swelled into tree trunks, and Abdul and his younger brothers kept a running wager about which of the scavengers would be the next to die."

A few other powerful quotes which particularly stood out to me:

"Becoming a success in the great, rigged market of the overcity required less effort and intelligence than getting by, day to day, in the slums. The crucial things were luck and the ability to sustain two convictions: that what you were doing wasn't all that wrong, in the scheme of things, and that you weren't all that likely to get caught."

"What was unfolding in Mumbai was unfolding elsewhere, too. In the age of global market capitalism, hopes and grievances were narrowly conceived, which blunted a sense of common predicament. Poor people didn't unite; they competed ferociously amongst themselves for gains as slender as they were provisional. And this undercity strife created only the faintest ripple in the fabric of the society at large. The gates of the rich, occasionally rattled, remained unbreached. The politicians held forth on the middle class. The poor took down one another, and the world's great, unequal cities soldiered on in relative peace." 

Open your mind. Open your heart. Open this book.

Going my own Way

(Photo taken by me, near the Arboretum, Sept. 2011)

For my senior year high school English class, students were required to pick a novel of their choice and then write an analysis paper about it. While I can't recall the various book selections we were given as examples to choose from, I do remember thinking that I did not want to choose a book that everyone else would pick or one that I knew too much about....though if you asked me at the time, I doubt I'd be able to articulate why. As I scanned the page, few options stood out in my mind. Or rather one in particular. My eyes curiously wandered to Herman Hesse's "Siddhartha." "What is this about?" I thought. And so began my discovery of Buddhism and more so, the beginning of my own self-discovery.

I suppose I had started going my own way prior to reading "Siddhartha" senior year, though it wasn't until that moment that it was brought to my awareness that my path in life has always been different than 'everyone else.' And for the first time I realized this was a good thing. It comforted me, inspired me, and pushed me forward. Suddenly being different and apart from the crowd was a strength, a sign of growth and the embodiment of genuine enlightenment.Western religion has never done that for me. Ever.

When times get tough and the road feels lonely, I find myself going back to Eastern philosophy time and again. Buddhism. The Tao Te Ching. The works of the spiritual mystic Osho. The wisdom, compassion, and non-judgmental encouragement of finding one's own way pours into me and through me. The paradox is actually quite hilarious when I think about it, at least for me. So many fearful people blindly following a religious path that really isn't their own, just words of everyone else because...it's easier?! But it's not. The same individuals are fearful of having their own unique perceptions and feelings, especially what choices to make with them. The last thing they want to do is think about them, yet going your own Way is the first step on the path to understanding, freedom, and growth.

Recently, a friend of mine kindly and unexpectedly mailed a book to me. "Path of Compassion: Stories from the Buddha's Life." I'm slowly savoring each chapter like a child comforted by nightly bedtime stories. I feel both alone and not alone reading the courageous journey of Siddhartha, boldly embracing the judgments of loved ones and strangers alike. Most of all, I'm comforted and inspired by his letting go of external pressures of what they want him to say or do (ie, their own agenda) in favor of going his own way...not only for himself, but also for the greater good.

And with this, I am reminded (again) to continue...going my own way.

City walking

As I walked around Capitol Hill tonight, I got to thinking about the art of walking: how it brings out something in my personality that seems to lay dormant when I simply drive my car every day. Is it just me or is this true for most people?


If you've never had the experience of living in a walkable city (specifically taking public transportation and walking quite a bit as part of your daily ritual), you may not understand what I mean. It's almost as if there's a psychology of walking vs. a psychology of driving in cities....and each one brings out different personality traits, for me anyway. Not that I'm a totally different person, but I feel my persona is different maybe.

When I walk around a city like Seattle, Chicago, or New York City, it's as if all my senses are heightened in some strangely pleasant way. My eyes wander to the roads, the cars, the lights, the sky, people in front/around/behind/beside me, the restaurants, the bars, the street musicians, and the obscure little shops I wouldn't normally stumble across had I been driving. My nose picks up the scent of the cold winter air; my ears tune in to laughter, chatter, fire truck sirens, music spilling out as bar doors open and close. My footsteps happily occupy the sidewalks and crosswalks as my mind wanders further than my feet.

Walking somehow allows my mind freedom to expand, to reflect, to analyze, to ponder, to let go of inhibitions or expectations, to explore, to step outside the box, to feel like a part of the community...to live more in wonder. Walking also jogs my memory, reminding me of people and places from times past. A part of me wonders if I wrote more in Chicago because I walked more than I do in Seattle. Wandering around on foot in a city seems to be good for my spirit.

Driving, however, is more like a chore...it's something I dread doing, but I know it has to be done. It simply gets me from point A to point B. It is the antithesis of walking in almost all aspects. It doesn't encourage me to relax or take in my surroundings. It's the one activity that can get me a little aggressive....which is weird because I'm not usually aggressive at all; driving can bring out the jerk in me. When I drive, the goal is to get where I want to go as fast as possible. I always pay attention to breathtaking sunrises and sunsets when I'm driving, sure, but that's about as far as it goes. There's nothing creative and adventurous going on within me when I drive. In fact, most times I take the same exact driving routes and sometimes get anxiety when there are times I must find my way along confusing streets. It's as if my mind is so attuned to doing pleasant and fun things at a slower pace (while walking) that it will totally pass me by if I'm driving.

As much as my personality is different driving vs. walking, each serve their own purposes and come with their own rewards. When I lived in Chicago, I didn't have a car and so I never had the luxury (or choice) to drive when I wanted to do so. The great thing about living in Seattle is that I do have a car, which means I can have the best of what both walking and driving worlds have to offer.

The living moment

(Photo taken by me, July 2011)

Most of us tend to wake up every day and expect things to be the same they were yesterday, whether that be positive or negative. We live with a false sense of security or mindlessness of wash, rinse, and repeat, going through the motions of day to day living (our comfort zone perhaps?). It can be easy to lose sight of meaning, purpose, and/or gratitude when we're on the proverbial auto-pilot.

But what if tomorrow you woke up with a sense of true wonder instead, not knowing what the day has in store for you? Would you be more grateful for the people in your life and the beauty around you? Would you be more compassionate? More forgiving? More happy? Would you let the little things go? I know I would.

Every moment presents a unique opportunity for mindfulness, peace, and completeness. Yesterday and today have been particularly enriching reminders to me of living in the moment.

I live in a beautiful city, the most beautiful place I've lived thus far...Seattle. Now most mornings I begrudgingly head out to work dreading the rush hour gridlock on I-5. Yesterday morning, however, I couldn't take my eyes off the rays of sun pushing their way through the clouds off in the distant horizon of Bellevue to my left. It's a wonder I didn't get in an accident with how hypnotized I was by the tranquil morning sunrise in my midst. This morning was no exception, as I took in the beauty of mountains as a backdrop to the glow of the sun. How did I get so lucky to see something so gorgeous to start my day, right before my very eyes? Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, tonight I was walking to my car as the sun was setting and I was blown away by a virtual painting in the sky, brushstrokes of cloud lines dappled with patches of pink and purple. A camera could do it no justice.

My mindfulness also extends to relationships....being reminded of how quick things can change with people in our lives, in my own relationships as well as what others tell me of their relationships with partners, family, friends, colleagues...and in my profession, even clients we help. Today a friend of mine shared with me that one of his colleagues that is a year younger than him was suddenly diagnosed with stage 4 cancer....and one of my colleagues today found out suddenly that a client died. Funny enough, a movie I watched tonight also reminded me of this same theme. In "The High Cost of Living" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-t1Vc6PfcMs), drug dealer Henry is living a mindless haphazard existence...until suddenly (!) he accidentally hits a pregnant woman with his car one night. I won't say anything more about the movie because it's astounding; you must see for yourself. It couldn't be a more apropos movie to represent what has become a helpful reminder to me not to take the simple (ie, beauty of a sunrise or sunset) nor the complex (ie, people in our lives) for granted.

Suddenly. Suddenly. Suddenly. It can change so fast. We don't expect to get tragic news, nor do we usually expect that the last time we see someone may very well be the last time. Granted, if we took this to the extreme in our lives it may make for a very morbid and paranoid outlook....but taken with a healthy sense of mindfulness and compassion, it can give us the opportunity to live more deeply (and paradoxically, more lightly) and love more fully.

"The living moment is everything." ~D.H. Lawrence

You three with me

Relentless yet futile are my efforts, I hope you will one day see
The effect you men have on me when I go out of my way to be

....the parent, roles reversed
Will it always be this way?
Is awareness enough or am I truly cursed?
I yearn for the day
It doesn't feel rehearsed

....the friend, years pass and I still can't figure out
Why I care as much as I do
The scare only gave me more doubt
Made it quite clear to you
I'm your friend to the end...that's what I'm about
But what you feel for me I haven't a clue.

....the one for you, you're my ideal
Wish I could turn back time
If we'd met years before now, it could have been real
Friends and lovers, a passion sublime
Instead I feel shitty for wanting to steal
Your heart's not mine...feels like an emotional crime
But can I heal?

You three with me.

You three with me.

What's my purpose?

When I was a senior in high school, it was while I took a psychology course out of mere curiosity and interest that I found myself intrigued by the subject....so much so that I delved into it more and majored in psychology my freshman year of college. My sophomore year of college I took a sociology class about families and relationships. During one particular class, the teacher brought in a marriage and family counselor who spoke about what it was like to be this kind of therapist, what it entailed,etc. I remember getting this feeling that I really wanted to do that, in a strong sense that I was even "meant" to do that.

After receiving my BA in Psychology and feeling "lost" for a year without any full-time employment, I decided it was time for me to really reflect on what I wanted to do next. It was at that time I made the bold decision to move to Chicago and pursue a master's degree in Marriage and Family Counseling. This was truly a life changing experience for me, all 6 years of it (living there)!

Though this is not something a majority of people know about me (even those closest to me), I have always been powerfully guided by spiritual principles and intuition....I just rarely talk about it. It is the one part of my life that is totally sacred, something I would rather experience than talk about.

For me, no time is greater for growth than in the unknown-ness of what direction my life will take next. A part of me though wonders if that is because I thought I knew my spiritual purpose.
From that high school psych class to grad school to my almost 5 years as a therapist, I have spent the last 14 years believing that it was my purpose (and I truly speak with no ego, only good intentions) in life to help heal others. It has been a valuable journey and I am blessed to have been a part of various individuals' healing processes....yet I am in a transition right now that has me feeling like I do not want to do it anymore, that it is no longer what I am meant to do. I have spent so much of my life taking care of other people, focusing on them, helping them, being attentive to them...and while it wasn't in vain, it has been to my own detriment alot of times. It's scary, strange, liberating, and exciting to envision what my life would be like to spend most of my time taking care of myself and living my passions rather than taking care of other people and living vicariously through their passions.

I have been thinking constantly about wanting to do something serious with my writing, something big. A part of me wonders if this is what I am meant to do next, yet I am not sure how to get there, when, or how. All I know is that whatever I write, I want it to mean something. I want to write about things that will touch people in some way and contribute to society. I am definitely in a transition and trying to allow myself to "let go" of the old in order to make room for the new me.

I've been experiencing alot of things lately that are drawing me to a different way of life. I've had very telling dreams. I also find myself giving clients feedback of a spiritual nature that I feel I need to honor within myself in order to be true to myself. I am more selective about who I choose to talk to and interact with, trying to avoid people who seem negative, judgmental, or not on a similar "path" as myself. I am becoming more aware of what I consume, both with food and drink. I am eating more fresh produce and less junk. I have reduced my "emotional" eating patterns. I am more "green" with the environment and have been recycling since I moved to Seattle. I spend more time in nature. I have less tolerance and interest in alcohol, as well as that being a medium to "connect" with others. I would rather connect in deeper ways. Surprisingly even to myself, I have even been considering giving up alcohol totally. I feel like it has no use for me in the overall scheme of things.

In addition, after reading a book about self-care written by a former social worker here in Seattle, I realized just how much I've been lacking in that department. I've been neglecting what brings me joy, happiness, and peace. So I decided to sign up for a creative writing class, which I will start in a few weeks. I'm incredibly excited. My mom recently gave me a book on creative nonfiction to read, something she just read and thought I would like too. As I started reading it on Saturday, I found myself getting excited about it. I even looked up the creative nonfiction website associated with the book's editor Lee Gutkind. I also went to Gutkind's webpage.

Between looking at both webpages, I was pulled by this strong feeling of "THAT" is what I want to do in some shape or form. The definition of what creative nonfiction embodies, Gutkind's literary philosophy ("mission statement" if you will), and the literary career he has had over the years (teaching and writing books with different themes) finally put a name to the kind of writing I am passionate about and strive to emulate.

A part of me really wants to pursue a degree in creative nonfiction with an institute in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (where Gutkind teaches), but how is that possible? Is that something I truly want? Am I crazy? How do I make a career out of my passion for writing given that I have no degree or work experience in writing? What do I do if I don't know what I want other than simply wanting to write? Passion and purpose are two sides of the same coin, at least for me.

I hope this is where my intuition and receptivity to spiritual guidance comes in to get my answer. I need some signs.