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The Woman Before Me

The Woman Before Me

The woman before me knew What I could only grasp Years spent reaching Stretching my heart wide open

But she knew inherently And showed me in action Inspired me through energy And the rest was up to me

I learned the dance Was no dance at all Authenticity was breathed Sincerity poured

From my pores and my heart Who I was leapt forward I didn’t need to try She was already within me

Her blood in my veins Her wisdom in my soul Bereft of needs I could now soar

Love deepened my roots So my branches would grow Guts and compassion spilled on the table My being could thrive

No need to measure Competition a dead end Who she is was more than enough And so my life could truly begin

The woman before me Knew what I could only hope I am whole I am her, more than enough

 

 

Today is special. It marks the birth of my beloved nonna, my maternal grandmother Paola. She is truly one of the greatest gifts in my life, the woman before me I hope to carry into my present and future as a mother, wife, sister, daughter, and friend. I cannot thank her enough or properly put into words what her love meant to me. For 30 years I witnessed her authentic being shine, generously giving unconditional love to us all, without expectation or need for return. She is love and therefore she effortlessly lives it and shares it with all who cross her path. She is funny, fierce, vibrant, forgiving, encouraging, and one of the most authentic souls I’ve ever seen roam this Earth. I’m happy to know her, better for being her granddaughter, and exceedingly proud to have her blood coursing through my veins. And she is the best damn cook this planet has ever seen.

I love you, Nonna. Can’t wait for my own son to feel your love and I hope he one day sees the same light from your eyes shining through mine.

To The Ones Who Teach Us How To Love

I didn’t grow up with an idol, plenty of crushes, sure, but no icons or symbols of the person I wanted to be. I really just wanted to be happy being me. I’m still the same. The list of men who stir up my loins grows longer by the day. But the list of people I idolize or wish to become lies with one: my nonna Today is my Grandma’s birthday. A vibrant and dynamic soul at any age, she remains the single person in this world I can ever remember looking up to in that way, seeing the woman I could be. It doesn’t mean I didn’t admire or respect countless others, because I absolutely did, but there was truly no celebrity, no athlete, no writer, no fellow classmate who lived love as beautifully as she did. And this truth lives on.

Me and Grammy (her actual name is Paola) at the Field Museum in Chicago

Grammy and Me

She is the reason I respect authenticity over accomplishments, sincerity over success, love over luxury. The epitome of what you see is what you get, my bella nonna lived such a beautiful example. She never forced or hammered her ideas in your head, she taught through action. The proof was in the pudding.

A quality I admire deeply in others is genuine confidence, a love of self that translates seamlessly into the love of others, an effortless respect paid to life and those who live it.

She is confident. Truly confident. In a way that’s not off-putting but rather endearing. You cannot help but smile and agree. I see her love for herself and my thought is, “hell yes, you are beyond lovable.” Without excessive makeup or suggestive clothing, Grandma walked the walk, a saunter only belonging to her, a style with no label, but one with her own special signature.

Grammy and my dad cutting a rug, joy radiating from her eyes and heart

Grammy and Dad

She’s exactly who I wanted to be when I envisioned myself as a grown woman. And the older I become the more I see how much there is to love within myself, the more I see her light in my eyes. Without saying the words “I don’t gossip or speak badly of others,” she just didn’t. There was no petty hate toward other women, no blaming others when something didn’t go her way. She took responsibility for herself, let nonsense from the outside world roll gracefully off her back and just got on with her life.

I wrote about the wisdom she lived and passed down to me for another publication. As I reflect upon those lessons, I cannot believe how fortunate I am to have had her as an example. She’s had many reasons to let life bring her down but she just kept looking up. She’s owned who the hell she is with humor, trust and presence. She’s carried a lifetime of positive relationships, including 53 years strong with my Poppa. She chose love over needing to be right, never held grudges, never let anger or negative emotions fester. She knows how to let go.

And what a presence she has. More than having to be the center of attention or harp on making her presence known, she leaves the deepest impact because her absence is always felt. I miss her deeply. Luckily, she is a phone call and a few hour plane ride away. More than that, her blood is in my veins, her love in my heart, her wisdom in my gut.

During my difficult days, ones where I feel low, inadequate, insecure and insignificant, I feel her resonance, I channel her energy. My blunt nature and feisty attitude began with her, so with a little tough love I say, “Nut up or shut up, Danielle. Life is a gift, stop wasting time on bullshit. Laugh it off and move on.” She survived much worse suffering than I, has lived happily and healthily for over 70 years, I can certainly muster up the psychological fortitude to live with the same ease and gratitude she does.

One of my most significant memories during childhood was of my grandma checking herself over in the mirror (something she didn’t waste too much on, preferring to embrace and lightly enhance what nature gave her), smiling and saying, “Not bad for fifty.” I fucking love it. She said it at 60 and 70 too. She’s still got it.

My beautiful momma and nonna making gnocchi together

Momma and Grammy

We should all look at ourselves with the same benevolence. It made it so easy for her to love others, even easier for her to forgive others. She never let the words or actions of another affect her internal well-being. This is so Yoga! But it’s so rarely seen and lived by our fellow human beings. Not to disparage anyone, this is really difficult to do. All the more amazing that my beautiful Italian grandmother is able to truly inhabit it.

We experience love first before we’re able to understand it. Words and ideas muck it up but as we grow older we learn HOW to love by the examples we live with. How we love others begins within. When I see one who is unkind, resentful, angry and otherwise incapable of truly loving another, I feel tremendous sympathy and compassion, for this poor soul must treat themselves even worse. Their karma is having to live with themselves each day.

My Nonna knew innately to let others be, without attachment or expectations. She took care of her own, absorbed only the energy that would serve her, and in turn, gave back precisely what she was harnessing inside: Love.

It is through her I remember to never compare myself to another and not to compete either. We are all the same, each bright lights capable of shining. It is up to us to feed the love within rather than the chaos without. It is her that reminds to live joyfully each day, no matter who sings my praises or knows my name, no matter how much money I have or stakes to claim, it’s a privilege just to be here. And being me ain’t that bad, I need to appreciate it and take the gifts my grandma passed on and give as much as I can to others, so they may feel that same pure love within we all seek for outside.

It all resides inside. Enjoy the ride.

Thank you, Grammy. I love you and appreciate you more than you could ever know. I couldn’t fathom a better idol than you.

We Don't Need No Resolution

Humans love to romanticize endings. And beginnings. And the draggy parts in the middle I guess, but they dig a goodbye, the drama of dissolution. And so as 2011 comes to a close, I’m forced via the emotional climate and energy to reflect upon this year, make assertions and judgments, constructively criticize myself and then pinpoint a new goal for next year. But what if this year was so beautifully perfect, glorious and pristine, rich and dense, at once hazy and yet crystal clear, that you don’t want it to dissolve? I want to reside in this current state of being into 2012 and keep experiencing life with this mindset and principles. Not that I’m whole, fully realized, successful or 100% fulfilled, but this year set off a flame inside me that is already burning bright, it’s impervious, cannot be dimmed. This is not a spotlight. I am not performing. I am Alive. Excessively so. And I aim to remain. We often want to lose weight, lose/gain a job, lose/gain a relationship, start something we’ve been wanting or end something our friends have been pleading us to; none of this works. These are external solutions for internal issues. We must be patient and kind to ourselves, begin to recognize old thought and behavior patterns, bring some awareness in and see the subtle shift we make toward progress. We shift the internal and the external blossoms. Having goals to change or improve aren’t bad, clearly, but our society perpetuates superficial or cliché objectives every new year, as if that specific fragment in time means anything.

Winter is often difficult and sometimes depressing, 3 months of dissolution, we see it in nature. A more appropriate date to explore varying routes to positive change is the end of March, Spring, a time of worldwide growth, amongst humans, animals, plants, a time of beginnings, renewals, a time to blossom. However, putting an actual date on your impending change in behavior or lifestyle only keeps this goal living in the future, some distant place you’ll reach somehow but obviously progress can only really occur in the now, and keep occurring during this very moment, from the inside out.

Just speaking from the western culture I’ve developed in and observed, we begin a steady decline once fall hits, the weather cools and we roll into the “dress up like someone scary/slutty/funny/weird/obscure” time while ingesting copious amounts of sweets and probably alcohol or some fun but harmful substance, and then for some deranged reason we hop on a gluttony train, eating stale candy until we can fill ourselves with pie, starch, turkey and other November deliciousness that inevitably makes us tired so we coast on lethargy and bloat until December when the cavalcade of holiday parties take up our weekends. By then we’re exhausted from our consumerist activities, shopping, eating, decorating, napping, drinking and any combination/order of those until we park ourselves permanently onto a cushioned surface to eat some tasty meat doubled over with butter, served with sides of gravy, accompanied by items covered in cheese or mysterious crunchy goodness, which is then sandwiched in moments of time eating holiday themed savory and sweet treats, washed down by equally intoxicating special occasion beverages while you watch Home Alone for the 8th time that month because you have the case for Christmas Vacation but no actual disk and although the charm and nostalgia of a VHS tape is fun, no one in their right mind still owns and uses a VCR, nor do we want to watch that shitty version made for a 19 inch 80’s television, then stretched to fit a modern high-definition flat screen.

After Home Alone 1 and 2, you may switch back to the 24 hour marathon of A Christmas Story, marking the 12th year you’ve watched it out-of-order, finding somehow to see the same scenes but never the full story, rarely remembering character names or a plot but merely specific famous lines and scenarios that have embedded their way into our culture like Star Wars references. I’ve only seen the first film (the one with a handsome Harrison Ford, not episode one or whatever, nerds) and yet I know that Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker’s father, just like I know in a Christmas Story the boy shoots his eyeglass out, gets into a fight, gets pushed down a slide by Santa’s boot and gets soap shoved in his mouth for cursing. It’s my parent’s generational holiday story and for some reason ours is Christmas Vacation and Home Alone. Can’t get enough of either. Back on track...

Then you have pie. And then, even though you all promised to cut back or perhaps not buy any gifts this year, the tree is up to its angel in gifts and you dole it out eagerly, most going to babies who don’t know and children who will soon forget, or simply prefer to play with the box over its contents. You add up your gift cards, inevitably lose something in the piles of wrapping paper and then you nap, waking up to another shot from A Christmas Story you saw earlier in the day. And then you eat cookies. At some point someone starts gathering trash, hoards and hoards of ugly patterned paper, tissue, tape, ripped bags, cards someone pretends to keep but actually tosses, rolled up food stained napkins, plates, half full cups, and candy wrappers, saying goodbye to numerous trees yet again, asking yourself if you’ve even had water once today, opting for whatever’s left in your plastic santa cup before you throw it away.

So you’ve had an 8-10 week sugar rush interspersed with moments of pure sloth, to then emerge at the end of December with nothing to show for it but some sugar related acne, broken zippers, burst buttons, probably some fun albeit foggy memories, and fading bitter ones of board games lost, and then a low-grade -no more singing joyfully, no more candy (until Valentine’s Day), no more forced, organized opportunities to gorge and get drunk with family and friends, no more too good to pass up sales, back to work- depression sets in.

For some reason, during this time I just described with 100% accuracy, we’re forced to evaluate our lives during a couple of months of indulgent, surfacey fun behavior and amidst all the chaos and stupor we’re then encouraged to land safely back in reality to then scout out our faults and bad habits and scold ourselves into changing after one last night of emotional and physical bingeing, to then miraculously make huge steps in an entirely newer and better direction for an infinite amount of time. No thank you. What a bunch of bullshit designed to keep us in our cyclone of crap, to repeat the same nonsense from January to December yet again.

There should be zero guilt associated with those few months of celebration, sugar absorption, gift giving and relaxing. It’s biological. Winter is coming, we need an extra layer to keep warm. That ebb and flow is natural, we’re leaner when it’s hot and fuller when it’s cold. When it comes to the more long-term, major adjustments, the resolution is much deeper and cannot begin after a night of alcohol abuse and slurred words. Perhaps we should begin on an arbitrary date, or our birthdays, or some date significant to us but no one else. The date does not matter. It is the intention and the energetic focus of that intention that determines our success in this evolutionary endeavor. Our goal as individuals and as a society is to keep getting better, internally, opening our mind and our heart a little more each day, so what we have to give only grows and a blissful presence remains despite external stress, relationship woes, excess pounds, or the absence of money.

We don’t need no resolution and we certainly don’t need it on January 1st. This is recuperation time. Time to reflect on the positives of the year, take the lessons from the mistakes and let any lingering negativity go. Time to let the massive quantities of carbohydrates digest, give the ole liver and kidneys some much needed H2O, resolve to either make changes necessary in the areas we are not happy and/or recognize the power in our own perception and reactivity. We choose to see people and situations in our own light and if that light is consistently dark and pervasively negative, then we know the change must first come within. As within, so without. If someone or something is so overtly caustic to us and others, then we must choose to remove ourselves from their presence. When it’s a necessary to suck it up and deal, then I’ve found it helpful to find the good and let it drown out the bad, whether in a human being or circumstance. We then change the way we operate toward the person or environment and the results are proof, we get what we give.

This year I resolve to feel nothing but gratitude for what’s led me here. Love.

I will allow my heart to speak up over my head and my chattering left brain to be silenced by the wisdom and acceptance of my right.

I will continue to strip my life down to simple truths and joys, food, laughter, love. Everything else is bonus.

I will do my best to choose collaboration over competition and relish the act of playing a game instead of predicating my happiness on the result. The means is far more important than the end.

I will not be discouraged when whatever external forms of success seem to be at a stand-still and when the financial well continues to be dry.

I will try to treat myself like I do my best friends and encourage them to do the same. Instead of labeling myself and others for their faults, I’ll lead and be grateful for the strengths and hope they diminish the weaknesses.

I will strive for a stream of consciousness that imbues a sense of connection with others, an unshakable calm disposition with an uninhibited self-expression, while in a perpetual state of internal and external motion.

Even those with whom I’d prefer to be apart, I wish you peace and goodness. For those I love, I wish you a balanced, loving life so full you’re overwhelmed by your happiness, fulfilled by your endeavors and satisfied in every imaginable way. I wish for us all to enjoy a full life together. Happy New Year.

May you always Eat (like a fatty), Laugh (like a schizo) and Love (like a lunatic). Remember: You’re awesome, give whatever you feel you’re lacking, let’s not take each other so seriously and have some fun in this whacktastic world.

Resolve conflicts. Relinquish control. Realize your innate goodness. Release. Repeat.

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