Published Asheville Citizen Times February 14, 2011

For years, Valentine’s Day was a day of over the top expectations and inevitable let downs for me. Days that I anticipated with hopeful expectation, whether I had a love interest in my life or not, and then suffering through the crash. High school years with other girl’s arms full of flowers sent by ardent admirers, I imagined, compliments of the Key Club school fundraiser. It was during those years, frustrated and fed-up, that I came upon the idea of how to rework the day and remove the sting. No one said it had to be about romantic love, so why not expand my vision to include love of all kinds in my life.

My girlfriends and I conspired over lunch one day, nibbling at chips and sipping on diet sodas. The idea was revolutionary! Why sit around and wait for someone to buy us flowers when we could buy them for each other! It seemed amazing that we had not landed on this before and the tradition of buying flowers for each other began and continued for the rest of our teenage years. Now we too walked the halls of our high school with our arms full of flowers, how would anyone know they were not from romantic interests? We were not left out anymore and the secret was ours!

As the years went by, I’ve often used the day as a good reason to spread love to all my nearest and dearest….girlfriends alone, fresh out of relationships, family, and eventually my daughters. As they have grown into teenagers, I’ve delighted in sharing with them the day is about love, in all its forms and manifestations. My favorite year was when my teenage daughter brought home 7 girlfriends, all of whom were not in a relationship and deeply bummed about that fact. I treated them to a lavish dinner of chicken parmesan, pasta loaded with cheese, and a decadent dessert. As dessert was served, we raised our glasses of ginger ale and I led a toast. This was my opportunity to impress upon them that men would come and go throughout their lives but girlfriends were forever. I went on to encourage them to always embrace the love of the day, whether romantically involved or not because love is everywhere. To my heart’s delight they all cheered.

Then there are those whose callused hearts make fun of the day and want to rebel the marketing sensation. Who can blame them when our society drives us to spend and overeat as an expression of love? When the message is romantic love is what counts the most? This rebellious approach seems far too jaded for me. My approach of transforming the day into something really meaningful for me feels like a more authentic approach. Could it be possible that we embrace a socially organized day of love and not buy into the machine? I like the idea of using the energy behind the machine to my own self constructed end.

Men do come and go, and now I am divorced after 18 years of marriage. Despite my best efforts, the first two Valentine’s Day were heartbreaking to be alone after so many years. I persevered, fueled by good memories, and found ways to celebrate the day by sharing my love with those around me I care most about. Baking cookies for my daughters, taking flowers to a lonely friend, and buying something special for myself! The consumer machine is big and all those commercials can pull at my heart with their images of “perfect” love, and for a few moments I do feel sad and alone. It is with gratitude that I also know my heart is bigger than the machine and hope is alive if I can revel in the love that is in my life.

Love is where you find it and create it for yourself. Love can save the world, so why not use this day to celebrate all the love in your life and spread generously the love you have to share, including lavishing it on yourself. It has the potential to make the day better for you and the world a better place to be.

Published – Asheville Citizen Times February 13, 2011

The heart races, your eyes lower to focus on the target you are approaching or is coming your way, you lick your lips and get ready to find out more than you can know from anything said or done till this moment…the kiss. Delicious (you hope), toe tingling (you pray), and the communication that comes across is undeniable. Lips meeting yours for the first time reveals so much…will he move strong and fast into your life and take over? Will he be sloppy and boundary-less in this relationship and not see to the details? Yuck! Or will the approach be slow, thoughtfully dancing with you in a dance that you create together for the pleasure and benefit of both of you? Yummy! The kiss tells it all.

I’ve been dating for over 2 years and this fact has remained the same from even before I was married for 18 years, the kiss is the starting point for all you hope to know about someone that you are attracted to and hoping to share time with. After kissing many men, I wonder how can that be and yet the truth remains unchanged. Men and women have been mixing their bodies and energies for millenniums upon millenniums. As centuries pass, we evolve into new ideas and standards for relationships and ourselves. Within all these changes, the need to court and mate with another lives strong. Right up from our root chakra, the need to procreate and connect drives us into the dance of courtship which all begins with the kiss.

It seems wrong to put this much pressure on ourselves and the people we kiss and yet it is what it is. We are who we are and the truth cannot be concealed once the lips have met. In subsequent dates and times together, the dance will ensue and images will be presented and promoted. There are subtle manipulations as we each try to get what are after in this meeting of the attracted parties. I am learning that my mind always comes back to the kiss and what my intuition told me from the start. I’ve tried before to believe what they say, promise and offer even when it goes against everything I am feeling and ‘knowing’. When the cards fall and the game is over, I realize I knew it from the start…the kiss connected me to the truth from the beginning and whether or not I was willing to see it.

This does not mean that a good kiss and connection from the start means a good relationship. It is merely the beginning point for discovering this new person you have met and those first impressions are lasting and real. I am not in a relationship and I’ve had plenty of great kisses from men which led to good feelings about him which portended good times and new discoveries that I would enjoy. Each man has been a gift to me in one way or another, even the ones whose kisses forebode caution. At times I have chosen to hang in there hoping to prove my intuition wrong; that something might shift or change. There are also those kisses which left me feeling nothing, or worse, feeling like they needed a kissing coach. These are a repellent and I usually depart quickly hoping there is someone out there for them who likes to kiss the way they do but it isn’t going to be me!

And then there are those with the great kiss that rocked my world which came with the ‘watch out’ message deep inside me, which I also tried to deny and overlook, and still the truth would insist on being seen. He was a risk, I took it anyway and got burned. Ouch! I hate when that happens. Even those times of denying my knowing led to valuable experiences and more information for me about the opposite sex, my self and the dating game.

So next time, before you lean for that first moment of truth, tap into your inner knowing and listen closely. What you hear and feel could be the key to the next step you take. Cultivating our intuition and listening to ourselves is the most powerful tool we have in our arsenal, use it well and often. I also still believe in kissing anyone you feel attracted to who wants to kiss you as well…you never know what you might find!

Published August 13, 2010 Asheville Citizen Times

Having just completed my 5 week adventure in India, I was headed for Cornwall, England via London. My journey was now completely focused on being with myself and continuing in my recovery from my pending divorce, after being married for 17 years, and finding the confidence with which to recreate my entire life. I would be traveling on my own for the first time in 22 years for 8 more exciting days and I felt anxious as I de-boarded the plane in London.

It was freeing to be traveling alone and it also felt odd. I became aware of how I had been insulated with my group in India when the sights and sounds of London overwhelmed me as I found my way. My intention in being there was to visit specific sacred sites to connect deeply with Spirit, and discover more about myself and the life I was creating. During the 8 days, I traveled by foot, tube, train, and in a rental car in the countryside of Cornwall. It was exhilarating to navigate my days and direction alone. My confidence and strength grew each day without my even knowing it. This was my time.

Every day was full as I sought out the sacred sites I had read about and longed to visit. From the druid well in the crypt of Winchester Cathedral to Chunn’s Coit in Cornwall to the stone circles, Merry Maids and Boscawen, and the sacred ancient wells at Madron and Carn Euny, my experiences exceeded all my expectations. Each site offered healing reflections and it was deeply fulfilling to discover them, and open my heart to receive all that was there for me. Sitting beside sacred wells under Hawthorne trees, I prayed for my daughters and me, reflected on our lives, asked for healing for our family and a renewal of my spirit.

It is customary to leave an offering at these wells and the trees were covered with ribbons, beads, shells and other things where many others had been there before. I left offerings of rose quartz beads tied to trees to hold the energy of my prayers after I was gone and to give thanks for the gifts I received from these places.

Every day there were synchronistic meetings that left me feeling as if my every step were charmed. There was the 62 year old woman I sat next to in Paddington station who had traveled similarly to me in her 40’s after her divorce. We connected and she readily shared her dreams, fears and experiences. There was also another woman in Cornwall who told me how she had traveled internationally, despite her fear of flying, right after the death of her husband. These women gifted me with the realization that we do not need to be fearless in pursuing our hearts calling, we just need to listen and follow through, and the rewards will come.

While climbing hills, hiking isolated trails, having scones and tea by the sea, and sitting with the rainbow in Lamorna Cove on my last day in Cornwall, I had numerous opportunities to reflect on the gifts India had given me and what was different inside of me. Some of my discoveries were that I liked my adventurous side as a traveler, I appreciated my bravery, knew my fears made me human and had become more comfortable with them, appreciated my intuition and connection to guidance from within, and I loved my inner rebel, my wild girl who wanted to write, live, love, explore and feel free in this life!

This time had reacquainted me with parts of myself that had been lost over the years of my marriage and it was deeply reassuring to find them again and know that they were not lost completely and there was more to be discovered. On my last night in England, I celebrated my birthday in London with new friends I met on the train back from Cornwall. The next day I would be headed home.

Back in the States, I faced many more challenges that continued to rock me but not as I had been before. Every aspect of my life was changing. The difference was that now I knew I had the strength to face what was in front of me because grace would support me with what I needed in each moment no matter how bleak the outcome appeared. All would be well eventually because I was surrendering to an inner voice that guided my every step. While I had lost parts of myself over the years, I was living an amazing opportunity to reclaim these on my own and make them real. My time had come. Where grace and Spirit were leading me was hard to know for certain and my trust continued to grow with every step.

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Published August 8, 2010

After waiting 22 years to return, my amazing trip to India was nearing its end. The group of students, along with my former professor, had become incredibly close during this time and I was enjoying having people to share my days. My emotional and spiritual release from my pending divorce and other losses was taking on a life of its own, of which I was not yet conscious.

On day nine of the trek in the Himalayas, we arrived at Lake Chandra Tal for a day of rest before proceeding up to 16000 ft. The beauty of this place was breath taking and the day of rest was a welcome relief as was the opportunity to bathe for the first time on the trek. Diaper wipes had served me well so far and full immersion in water sounded divine, no matter how frigid that lake would be. I felt refreshed and rewarded for the long hike we had endured to this place at 14,000 ft.

That night, sitting by the glassy lake at sunset, I realized that in this place and time I was living a conflict free existence for the first time in almost 2 years. I felt the safety and serenity of my life here and sought to breathe this peace deep into my heart and soul. The sunset turned red, the sky ablaze with color, and then the full moon began its rise in the sky. I felt deeply what I had accomplished on this trek and a deep peace filled my heart. I prayed to Spirit, “Make me happy, wild and free” and knew in my heart that eventually it would be so.

The last day of the trek to Kunzum Pass just past our peak at 16000 ft. was challenging. My muscles were deeply tired, my feet shuffled and at times I stumbled on rocks on the path. The landscape was rocky and desolate, uninhabited for ¾ of the year, and that emptiness left me feeling hollow as I climbed. I was trusting more than ever that I would have what I needed as I continued, chanting affirmations to myself at my slow and steady pace. At one point, I looked up to see an eagle soaring through the pass I was crossing. I saw her lightness and freedom and felt it was a sign of encouragement. My steps became stronger and my feet moved more easily after seeing her there.

At Kunzum Pass, where the Dalai Lama is flown in via helicopter to teach his followers, I knew I had finally made it. The terrain was rugged and the sky was a bright blue with clouds so close it seemed as if you could touch them. The pass was framed by the tattered peace flags hung by pilgrims who had come before. Snow capped peaks in the distance reminded us of the snow that is here most of the year.

The effects of the altitude were breath taking, literally and figuratively. The air was thin and my breath was hard to catch. I found I could not even grip the lid of my water bottle to twist off the lid because my muscles were not getting the oxygen I needed to function normally. I knew it would take time for my body to acclimate to the conditions and I waited patiently. Some students were retching from having hiked too fast to this place and I was grateful to not be one of them. My own slow and steady way had served me well.

As I acclimated in the quiet reverent, serenity of this place, I remembered that I had placed a picture of the Dalai Lama in my home during the harsh days of my divorce to encourage me to be courageous and stand for what I believed to be right without warring. With this remembrance, I went into soulful reflection in, I prayed and asked the Dalai for continued support and strength to get through the last of my settlement negotiations. As I circled his chair, I heard inside that what I needed to get through was ‘fierce and strong compassion for myself’. Tears of joy and blessing came as I recognized that I had not been compassionate enough with myself through this process and to give that to myself would allow me to give it to others. With deep thanks, an offering, and a Namaste, I left Kunzum Pass satisfied my dreams were coming true thanks to my open heart and the support of the Universe.

Coming down out of the mountains back into the cities of India with the people, noise and activity that surrounded us was an adjustment for all of us. I soon would be headed for Cornwall in England and wondered how that cultural shift would be for me. It was with bittersweet anticipation that I left India.

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Published August 1, 2010 Asheville Citizen Times

From Agra we traveled to Jaipur where I visited the Money Temple and had a deeply moving, spiritual experience. I was more acclimated to the culture and feeling more in my own center, so my heart began to open and be receptive to the spiritual influence of this mystical land. Four other girls and I went into the temple and sat with the priest attending to a small shrine. I felt the tears start to come up from my heart and out of my eyes. The smell of incense filled the little room. He smudged each of us on our third eye and tied strings of devotion on each of our wrists. I tried to be strong and simultaneously open to what was moving through me. Crying openly is not part of the cultural norm in India. As I emerged from the shrine, emotion coursing through me, I began to weep. Two Indian women came up to me very concerned. They did not speak English so I began to try to communicate and assure them my heart was hurting with emotion and I was fine. They bade me to sit and fetched oils and began to rub them into my chest and shoulders all the while brushing away my tears and encouraging me not to cry. I knew in that moment Spirit had sent angels to care for me and the weight of my emotional pain began to dissipate. They ministered to me with such love and compassion and I realized how many human emotions are universal. While we did not speak the same language, the language of compassion was clear and on that ground we met. After ten minutes or more, I was feeling better, deeply blessed and rose to go out onto the temple grounds. I offered each woman a namaste and a hug feeling deep gratitude for them. I knew a deep healing had begun and I was getting exactly what I had asked for on this journey.

From Jaipur we returned to Delhi via train and then onto Chandigarh to prepare to head north for the trek. On the morning of the drive to Manali, at 7000 feet, I woke up with intense gastro-intestinal distress…the nicest way I know how to describe it. We were facing an eight hour drive on curvy roads. Armed with toilet paper and a barf bag, I got in the front seat of our vehicle and prayed as I am sure my three traveling companions in the backseat were as well. Two hours into the trip, I was feeling some better and comforted by the kind driver who spoke very little English. We did a great job at finding ways to communicate and I could understand that his caring for me was real and I would have what I needed to get through this day…no matter how many times he had to stop for me to run to the side of the road. One time he stopped, ran to a little leaning shack and came running back to the car. He ripped away newspaper to reveal a cd inside. He placed it in the player and out came Bob Marley singing a beautiful Hindu chant. Another blessing for me as I love Bob Marley, felt comforted by the familiarity of his voice, and once again had found a common ground with this Indian culture. As Bob Marley sang and we continued to drive up and up, my soul relaxed and my stomach stopped its relentless torture of me. Once again, I had been given what I needed to see the day through.

The trek itself began 3 days later and I surprised myself beyond expectation. By the end of day four, I was finding my pace and the right frame of mind to hike each day. Our guides were encouraging and supportive. While I was not able to keep up with the 20 year olds on the trip, I was never far behind. I moved from feeling “I do not like this…I can do it but it is not really me” to enjoying the challenge, rising to it, and feeling pretty bad ass. Confidence had finally come and while I knew there were plenty of women out in the world who are tougher than me, I still felt incredibly tough, strong and capable. A sweet place to find myself emotionally after all I had gone through in the previous days and years.

During the hike, the smallest things could bring the most beautiful insights. It became evident that when you slow down and remove yourself from worldly distractions, gifts are found in the most amazing places. I was impressed and touched by the small white flowers I would see growing up out of the rocky terrain. It was amazing that they could grow up so abundantly amongst the rocks and the dry climate. These wildflowers were delicate, beautiful, persevering, strong and real. Each time I came across them, I saw myself in them and the truth of who I was becoming. India was having her way with me, transforming my heart and soul.

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Published August 1, 2010 Asheville Citizen Times

My dream had come true and I was back in India after 22 years. I was also in the middle of a divorce that seemed to threaten my very sanity. My initial purpose in taking this trip was to do a cultural anthropological study of India from 22 years ago to generate written work to help me begin a career as a cultural anthropologist and assist with the college students traveling with my former professor. Another part of me knew I was in India to rediscover myself and heal from all that I had endured the previous year. My life had completely disassembled itself before my eyes and I felt ungrounded and lost in my new life alone after 17 years of being a wife and mother.

At first India welcomed me and I felt her familiarity like a long awaited homecoming. Then I quickly went into cultural immersion and full confrontation with myself as India overtook me and pulled me in. The summer heat in Delhi was overwhelming as the monsoons had not come that year to give the usual break to the heat wave. Temperatures in the upper 90’s and nearly 100% humidity made walking about a struggle as I clutched a bandana in my hand to mop the sweat dripping into my eyes and felt my clothes plaster to my small body. As a woman who hardly even sweats during a hard workout at the gym, this was beyond anything I had ever experienced. I told myself I was having the ultimate ‘spa detox’ experience to give it a positive spin.

One particular day, while out with some students in the group, my stress increased to where I felt completely out of my body. Men physically running over and into me, people staring at me intrusively while getting in my ‘American personal space’, sidestepping cow dung, navigating groping beggars, and numerous vehicles nearly smashing my toes had me wondering why I had come and what had I hoped to gain from being here. While I never felt threatened in India, in fact I felt physically safer here than in New York, my presence as a woman here took me to places of vulnerability. I knew I would have to acclimate and find my groove…adjust to the culture and pace, and my place in it as I had before. After all I was not here to be a tourist and cling to my comfortable American ways, I was here to immerse myself in culture, let it transform me and teach me about myself.

My inner prayer was for healing and transformation, to be able to detach from the pending divorce and be with myself in this magical, soul-stretching place. I had made a personal commitment to have as little contact with home as possible, even though I had a cell phone in case there was an emergency with my daughters during these 5 weeks. In those initial days, jet lagged, hot, and overwhelmed with my displacement, I was deeply tempted to text and call home to friends to anchor myself and elude this Indian reality. Instead, I held firm and did not run from myself and my emotions. The only way out of my discomfort was to live through it.

In Agra, 6 days into the trip, I found solace on a rooftop at sunset. With the Taj Mahal clearly visible, the red streaked sky all around, and the call to prayer echoing out over the city, I prayed and went deep within. Tears came to my eyes, goosebumps raised on my skin, as I asked for help and guidance. Feeling one with the Indian people while having my own spiritual practice as they were simultaneously having theirs brought me into deeper resonance and feeling at home. The quiet of this time and place soothed me deeply. With each breath, I went deeper within. The call I heard was to rely on Spirit inside of me rather than outer securities. In Spirit I would find comfort, grace, support and inspiration for the days and years ahead. Everything else could and would eventually pass away. The only real reliance I could have in this life was inside of me with Spirit. More tears came, as they always do when I hear a deep truth within. This knowing felt solid and more real than anything else. I left the rooftop that night feeling loved and held firmly by a force greater than myself, more clear about what I was looking to find inside of me, and faith that I would get all that I came for and more. I was back in love with India.

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Published July 28, 2010 – Asheville Citizen Times

It was exactly one year ago that I was in India. The fulfillment of a longstanding dream to return after my first trip 22 years before. In the midst of a painful, drawn out divorce and on the heels of an arduous move out of the mega-marital home into my precious tiny cottage, I packed my backpack and headed to India for a month with my former college professor. There would be 17 of us, a mix of current students and alumni, traveling for the purpose of cultural immersion and experience. For me the trip was research based doing a cultural anthropological comparative study of India, and a huge spiritual opportunity for growth and reflection. India had opened my heart and changed my life 22 years before and I knew that this trip had the potential to help me profoundly with my healing. India and I would be taking our relationship much deeper because of the passion I had for her that had never left me in all these years. To return was truly the fulfillment of my heart’s prayer.

The three previous years had been something to be endured and overcome beginning with the death of my father, followed the next year by the death of my grandfather who raised me and then separating from my husband of 17 years. Relentless tragedies that brought shock, loss, betrayal, and even estrangement from my two teenaged daughters had rocked me to my very core for months on end. Moving out of the marital home had been exhausting and disorienting as well as freeing to my soul, which I likened to moving out of a sarcophagus into the light. Things were beginning to turn for me and still there was much to be endured, all of it unknown with no hope for predicting the outcome of the divorce settlement or the future of my relationship with my daughters. The life shattering changes I had survived so far had leveled all that I had ever really known and lived for. From this groundless place, I went to India.

So here I was facing the trip of a lifetime and doubting my very core and ability to do this for myself. The main part of the trip was a trek into the Himalayas up to 16000 feet. I was excited and anxious with self doubt. Would I be able to do it? Would I get sick? Would I be able to take care of myself? Would I hate it? I wanted to climb those mountains and discover that I was as tenacious, strong and determined as I hoped. Still my mind was relentless and had me wondering what truths about myself I would confront on this trek including the fear of disappointing myself.

The trek took me deep within and revealed much to me. One of the insights that came was to see the analogy between what was needed to complete the hike and to see my divorce through to the end. Both would require endurance, pacing and perspective. The trek could only be done one step at a time, one day at a time. To look too far ahead was overwhelming and created only self doubt. Elevation changes, rivers to forge, elements to be endured and worked with. At the same time, as I breathlessly chanted affirmations to myself to get me through, I knew to look up and around and not miss the beauty that surrounded me.

I can still remember the day that I felt how much like my divorce the trek was for me. I knew both would be complete – eventually – and all I could do was surrender to my heart and trust that I would be given what was needed to see each through. One step, one day at a time. As things were being leveled and cleared in my life, I knew deep inside that fertile soil was being cultivated for the emergence of my new life. I have always believed that the gift waiting for us on the other side of a struggle is equal to what is endured. To live a life where I am present to the gifts as well as the challenges was the only way to come through this time with an open heart that was ready to receive what the Universe had in store for me. With these gifts clear in my mind and heart, I went on to complete the trek and my divorce successfully.

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