Living Yoga...Possible in a Modern World?

Holy shit it's been too long. Too long since I sat in front of my computer and held space for writing. Too long since I tapped into that creative center and let myself purge. I've let too many excuses rule the why: my baby (who's almost 2?!?!), time (I have the same 24 hours as Beyonce), energy (suck it up, bitch), work, moving, life, etc. While some of those excuses may be valid some of the time, it's really up to me to curate my life, to create a routine/practice/discipline (in Yoga we call this a Sadhana) that brings out the best in me and therefore enriches my life in the way I need. 

I recently returned from a 5 day Living Yoga retreat in Santa Ynez, California, through my beloved Mukti Yoga School. During this time I participated in rituals I'd never experienced before. The first was an ancient Bihar school salt water cleanse called Shankhaprakshalan. I had some trepidation as I'd always heard salt water could kill you and I'm fairly hell bent on living. But with the appropriate dosage, following up with red lentils + rice + ghee, and then nourishing the body with kitchari, you'll feel fucking fantastic. In addition to the commonly practiced yogic rituals of neti pot, hot lemon water, 5 Tibetan exercises, pranayama and meditation; we also spent those several days eating clean, drinking only water and tea. No caffeine. No booze. No herb. Yikes. 

I can honestly report even after 5 days of clean living, I felt clearer. Calmer. More fierce. Motivated. Transformed. I was the same but you could argue I shit out much of the unnecessary excess. The puja ceremony (another new ritual for me) burned old memories, painful conditioned thoughts, and bullshit doubts. The following day of creating vision boards, painting large rocks gathered at the beach, and threading friendship bracelets -3 activities I admittedly suck at- had me feeling so charged and excited. 

Almost immediately post-partum I lost much of myself and have since been gathering the pieces like sorting through debris after a hurricane. What was salvageable? It's taken me 2 years to recognize that I'm not worse and my life is not worse. I am a thousand times better. Even amidst my crankiest, most exhausted days, the hours I clung to my old life like a badly attached yogi, I still took fucking phenomenal care of my son. I showed up for him. Sure, I've had impatient moments or days. Frustrated. Irritated. Haven't wore make-up or dried my hair since his birth. What the fuck am I saying, I never did that before him. Point is, during the physical cleanse, the emotional cleanse, the mental cleanse derived from so much yoga and so few substances, I came clear. I am a badass. 

I started reading a book called You Are A Badass. If I had the guts, wisdom, and fortitude to write my own book it would be so similar (if I was lucky) to this brilliantly funny, and shockingly helpful self-help book. The book echoed so beautifully the work and inspiration from the retreat. And now I sit nearby my favorite studio home here in Los Angeles contemplating how we might all find our own unique definition of Living Yoga in our real lives. 

In the past few years I've come to accept and even love that I am a rebellious yogi. I am not a vegetarian (not against it either, just too into food and feel better on some animal protein). I do not believe in astrology (if one more person -almost always a girl- mentions mercury in retrograde...). I curse like a fucking sailor (luckily I know several other yogis who do, too). I openly smoke marijuana, drink a little booze, ceremonially engage in psychedelics (more mushrooms, please). I have a bizarre sense of humor (even when I get crickets, I still love myself somehow). Perhaps it's being in my 30's, having a kiddo which is truly hard fucking work, or perhaps it's yoga finally sinking in, but I genuinely like and love me. And now I am unafraid to admit it and share it. 

SO here it is...at risk of sounding a bit self righteous (I admit I know very little, but I know some valuable things), I'd like to encourage both myself and you, dear reader(s), to live yoga in your own wackadoodle way. Let's break it down and see if we can make a few small shifts in order to cultivate actual positive change. 

For Your Health: 

   Can you eliminate or cut down one unhealthy habit (soda, sweets, cigarettes, booze, processed food) and add a healthy one (more water, more veggies and whole foods, more time allotted for sleep, a form of exercise you can stand for 30 minutes) ?

For Your Mind: 

   As adults we get lost in the grind of work and responsibility and routine, and often we forget to stimulate our minds in new, enriching ways. Can you make time, save money, store some energy to learn something new? Doing the activities on the retreat made me remember I can still enjoy things I suck at. Learning a new language, instrument, art form, dance, etc., gets us out of our comfort zones and stimulates the brain in ways our routine simply cannot. Maybe 30 minutes less TV and 30 minutes more reading? Marinate on it and figure out what your sweet little brain needs. 

For Your Heart:

   Who in your life elevates you? Boosts you, inspires you, encourages you? More of them. Even if it's Skype or actual phone calls (our smart phones can make real calls!), better yet in person, but bring more of the good in and weed out some of the riff-raff. If you're hankering for a new relationship, be open and socialize a bit more, invite people over and have them bring a friend you've never met. Be open. 

For Your Loins:

  You could blend the heart and loins categories, of course, but sometimes you just wanna roll around nakey with someone who seems fun. It's a scary world, I get it, I can't imagine trying to navigate Tinder and Bumble and Scruff and who the fuck knows what else is out there, but perhaps you put on your sexy underpants, doll up in whatever way feels authentic to you, and then go make eyes with someone. Could be exhilarating. Could also lead to an orgasm. And when all else fails, explore your own body and enjoy it! No shame, no embarrassment. Nothing more natural or wonderful. DO IT. 

For Your Soul:

  What brings you joy? I love dance (Side note excitement: I put a pic from Dancing with the Stars on my vision board and just this week the opportunity to see a live taping of the show in a VIP section was presented by a dear student! Thank you, Universe!). I love to watch it, get lost in it, absorb all things movement. I also love hiking, eating, all types of yoga, seeing live comedy, enjoying live music, sports. I'm finally starting to do more of these things, little by little, and it truly spills into the days after! What fills your cup? If you're currently broke as a joke perhaps you use the cheap to free option of the internet and in-home entertainment while you save for a trip out to enjoy what you love, but the point is, make time. You're dying. I'm dying. This ain't a joke. Fucking enjoy yourself and don't apologize. You won't miss that 50 bucks. 

Here's what Living Yoga is looking like for me right now:

   I wake up and neti, drink hot lemon water (I add turmeric and ginger too! and sea salt), throw my legs up my hallway (I don't have much space) and breathe for 7-10 minutes every morning. I dance with my son at least once a day. I have nearly eliminated my latte habit so I now drink mostly water and afternoon tea. I walk a lot (in LA this means I'm not afraid to park far away). I stretch. I eat a lot of vegetables (luckily, this one isn't new). I make boozing/indulging a treat, a conscious choice to elevate or alter my mind/taste buds in a stretch of time that makes sense, not simply out of habit or escape. I carve out 20 extra minutes to read (some days, most days, it's all I get) and 15 to write. I look at the ridiculous vision board I made and put myself in the mindset of believing and accepting I am worthy not only of the life I have, but also the life I'm striving for. Mindset matters. These little habits each contribute positively to my overall well-being and to growth. 

How can you live Yoga in your life? No actual Yoga required (but why the hell not?). 

Namaste! 

remembering what you already know

“You are a power. A force as strong and strange as any element in nature. Do not shrink. Do not hide. Be the thing you were meant to be.”

— Nayyirah Waheed

Found this piece written in my phone from the day before I gave birth. I have no recollection of writing it, but I have every intention of taking it with me and believing it with a depth and a force that can only exude from within.  Let's not waste another minute picking ourselves apart, measuring ourselves against others or feeling any shred of dislike for ourselves. Seriously. It's bullshit. No more.

Love & Namaste,

Dani 

Today I cried three times for no reason. The tears running from my eyes were not escaped moments of sadness; no, they were overwhelmed morsels of joy. I have this ecstatic feeling that seeks some form of escape from my body; it needs to move. But regardless what I do, I am forever trapped in this vessel. And the tears I feel are constructed of immense gratitude for my vessel, my body, my flesh. Sure, I am more than a bag of bones, than some curly hair and curves that just won’t quit. My being cannot be summed up by the sum of my measurements and physicality. But it is the conduit for experience. It is the form I wake up and absorb life with everyday.  I see beauty because my amazing, brown, tree bark colored eyes perceive light. Because my incredible fucking body can do that! It has evolved to do that.  I hear because my small, slightly pointy ears perceive sound waves. And because of that, I hear music, sounds of an artist's making and sounds of my own inner space. It’s really quite astounding.  I smell because my long, slender nose pulls in surrounding air. Immediately, without my choosing, my nose smells it all. I smell and it leads to tears. I smell and it leads to sleep. I smell and it leads to hunger. I smell and it leads to vomit. I smell and it leads to god knows what, but my nose is quite the catalyst for sensation and emotion. And that’s fucking amazing.  I taste because my long, frenulum-less tongue has thousands of taste buds and a pallet that yearns to explore. Because of my tongue I can feel pleasure and satisfaction from any number of flavors in one day: the taste of my lover’s skin, the savory ingredients in my grandmother’s spaghetti sauce, the smooth, heroine-like joy of chocolate!  I feel because my skin is highly sensing, nerve endings combusting with every step, every hand held, every hug given. Because of my skin and touch I am able to perceive textures, from rough to silky, slimy to rubbery, natural and fabricated. I can feel it all. And it feels so fucking good.  I perceive and sense and experience this magnificent earth because of my weird brain and my passionate heart. None of the above would be possible without whatever the miracle is that turns my light on, making me conscious. Beyond the curse and blessing that is cognition is the simple awareness that I AM. And that awareness, coupled with all that I am able to perceive, is almost too much to bear. And at times, it’s not enough.  The insatiable in us all forgets. It’s all here, within and without. It’s all a fucking carnival ride. Throw your hands up.  I am about to have a fucking baby. For 9 full months my remarkable body has done what millions of other remarkable bodies have done: create and grow life. As I type I feel this little creature stirring inside of me. At one point, not long ago, he was the size of an apple seed, perceiving nothing, just absorbing my nutrients, doing what he was evolved to do: grow. And he did. And now, he perceives so much! And he’s only just begun.  I sit on the precipice of probably the most transformative, challenging, life affirming right of passage of my life: giving birth. The previous 40 weeks have been nothing compared to what these hours/days will be. I don’t even know, can’t even fathom, can only minimally imagine what this experience will be and how I will fall even more deeply in love with my body, my being, and my child than I already am.  This 240 days has served so many purposes. I feel the truth of so many yogic lessons. I feel them in my bones, know them to be true in my heart, rather than simply understanding them in my mind. Way beyond my intellectual understanding, I feel with every breath a gratitude, a love, an awakened sense of being that I’ve yet to truly feel. Not even in the deepest meditation, the most beautiful asana practice, the greatest travel adventures, wrapped up in the most captivating ecstasy with another, have I felt so in tune, so in love, so aware, and so god damn awake.  And despite the knowledge that my vessel is about to skyrocket into space for the first time, enduring shifts and changes I’ve only heard stories about, I feel so calm in my being, so ready, so trusting of all that I’m truly capable to overcome. And I know whatever it is will be worth it because of the love I already feel, and the love that will grow exponentially, for myself, my child, and my tribe once we’ve made it to the other side. I can do this. We all can do this. We’re meant to live and to love and all that intersects to create a true living experience. I fucking love Being.

All the feels

“Feel it. The thing you don’t want to feel. Feel it. And be free.”

— Nayyirah Waheed

So this has been my practice as of late (per the insightful guidance of my superb therapist). My post partum transition has been emotional, to say the least. Despite the fact that I feel as if I've moved to another planet, I placed unfair expectations on myself (do you do this? Don't, it's abusive. We can help each other) and expected to flow through new motherhood with an even keel and energized body. Well that ain't most people, and it certainly ain't me.Part of my difficulty came from me feeling a certain way, and then feeling guilt or judgment over feeling that way. I never just felt it. I swam in the insidious waters of self loathing and criticism, but rarely just paused and felt the totality of sensation, emotion and experience of that specific moment.And that's precisely what the bodymind (our integrated being) needs to do and feel, exactly what we're fricken feeling! Without labeling, telling ourselves what we should or shouldn't feel, just listening deep within, into the murky, uncomfortable pit that flows in the pool of the gut.As I practice(d) this, I feel more acceptance of my humanity, of being a work in progress, of being a very sensitive soul, and of being a well intended but sometimes flawed and confused momma person. And the more softness I gave to myself, the more forgiveness I felt in my heart, the more apt I became at navigating through the rough waters, back to the calm, still deep of my inner essence. When you feel angry, sad, frustrated, overwhelmed, confused, etc., rather than chastising yourself, distracting yourself or avoiding your feelings, go further into the experience. Take a 2-3 minute sanity break, get quiet and still, and just listen. Observe intently. Describe all the feels. Feel all the feels. Let your whole self go there. And then watch yourself transfer into the next moment. Try this and let me know how it goes.It's helping me. I hope it helps you too.Love & Namaste 

Don’t Make Assumptions: Lessons from Robin Williams’ (and other's) Beautiful Lives and Tragic Deaths

Don Miguel Ruiz’s brilliant little book, The Four Agreements, has weighed heavily on me for a few years now. It has inspired more contemplation and reflection than most, and even inspired my own piece on the 2nd agreement, Don’t Take Anything Personally. The recent news of Robin Williams’ tragic death has many bewildered over such a bright, vibrant and funny personality succumbing to such darkness. And it is the onslaught of opinions and reactions that has me reflecting on the 3rd agreement, Don’t Make Assumptions.

Years of memes and quote sharing has helped us all see, even for a brief moment, that we never know the struggle of another, that we’re all winding our own weird path, often filled with deep pain and sadness, and there’s no way to know another’s plight unless we walk in their shoes. And we simply can’t. It’s impossible. And even within our closest loved ones, it is difficult to empathize and even understand their pain.

I do not personally struggle with addiction. That is not how my darkness manifests. It would be arrogant for me to assume to know the depth of pain, solitude, and endless confusion one might be enduring every single day to just survive. It would be just as arrogant for me to assume the whys and hows of one struggling with depression and anxiety, something I do have personal experiences with, both within my own psyche and as an outsider attempting to help loved ones.

We make assumptions about others, the reasons for their behaviors, the backstory to their pain in an attempt to square away some cognitive dissonance in ourselves. We don’t want to believe that sadness can cut so deep that fame, fortune and adoration cannot elevate it. We can’t fathom a loneliness so potent that a person surrounded by love isn’t somehow at the same time filled with that love within.

All the beauty in the world and all the examples and demonstrations of love simply aren’t enough. It is one thing to see, it is quite another to feel, understand and live in the truth of it. And often our forays into both lightness and dark are attempts to understand and receive glimpses of just that: Love.

Out of respect for our fellow humans we should make no assumptions about their lives. As innate as it feels to analyze thoughts and actions, it serves no one to draw conclusions based on nothing but our own mental machinations. And out of concern for our own sanity we should also make no assumptions about why someone is behaving in a certain way, whether it directly affects us or not. Easier said than done but the wiser choice.

Similar to not taking anything personally, often when we assume the truth of another it is merely a projection and reflection of how we feel about ourselves. Most human beings fall into the trap of making something about ourselves, allowing ourselves to feel offended, hurt, misunderstood or forgotten simply from assumptions created by our own minds.

Here are a few examples you may have heard yourself or another say:

“Why would she look at me like that? She must…”

“Why won’t he text/call/message me back? It’s because…”

“I haven’t heard back so I probably didn’t get in/win/make it/etc.”

“They’re just being a jerk because they’re jealous.”

“They had a leg up because their more attractive/rich/popular than I am.”

“They’ve been gone a while. They must have diarrhea.”

That last example was just for levity, but you get my drift. I’ve fallen into these patterns of assumption so many times, too many times to even count. We’ve all most likely, at some point in our lives, been on the giving and receiving ends of assumptions. And at neither time does it feel good, does it satisfy whatever discomfort we’re trying to dissolve. It simply keeps our minds stirring, distracted from real life, pulled away yet again from the present moment.

The questions and statements above are very generic and broad, obviously we can get much more specific, detailed and often mean in our assumptions. And with the case of Robin Williams’ death and the tragic happenings of many other people we feel (assume) we know, the unkind and presumptive thoughts that suicide is selfish or cowardly, there must have been some lack of gratitude or perspective, or that there were any real choices in the matter are more reflective of those judging than those whose lives we’re carving hypotheses about.

Often the line between darkness and light is quite thin. And those providing the most light and levity frequently deal with deep, private darkness. As one who considers herself a bit of a comedy nerd, I've learned how many of those most talented are engulfed in crippling depression, anxiety and dread.

And I think many of you are aware of similar occurrences within Yoga.

It is my own experiences with darkness that led me to Yoga, a practice and career that I feel balances me, helps me share mere moments, lessons and aspects of light I wish I felt more. And sharing those experiences does just that; helps me feel. More.

My parents divorced when I was young. As sadly common as it was and still is, being the only child of my biological parents made the experience feel endlessly confusing, sad and lonesome. This caused many sleepless nights drowning in the depths of assumption. Throughout my adolescence and early adulthood I doubted real love existed, certainly didn't expect to feel it myself. And it is precisely through art, films like Mrs. Doubtfire, practices like Yoga and Meditation, and raw, honest comedy that I was first able to glimpse real light and real love.

I hope Robin Williams can truly rest now knowing he provided so much joy and light to an often dark world. Don't be afraid to reach out, friends. Hug someone. Tight. Let assumptions lie. And as Robin brilliantly said, “You’re only given a little spark of madness, you mustn’t lose it.”

Stop and Smell the Roses

I am a born traveler, a mover, a shaker. I have an insatiable thirst for what's next, too much focus on what's around the corner. I am rarely satisfied with myself and adventures provide distraction for me to discover more. Sometimes the lessons we learn hit us abruptly and unexpectedly. And other times, they come to use in quietude.

In the span of three months since I returned from Haiti, I got pregnant, got hired, got fired, received two unfortunate traffic tickets and countless headaches. I'm recognizing now what the Universe is trying to tell me. Slow Down. Take it in. Take care. The future will always arrive on its own time and growth only happens Now.

It is no wonder it feels so natural to teach Restorative Yoga, even more so than Vinyasa, Power Yoga, or anything fast paced. It's what I need. I need to restore. I need to slow down. I need to stop and smell the roses, truly the whole point of Yoga and many other spiritual teachings: Life is short, dummy, what are you racing for?

Beyond the question of who I want to be and how I want to feel is the energy and space I want to create for my child, for my tribe, inside and out. And that is an energy of love, first and foremost, but also of calm acceptance, of joyful peace, of trust that we can ride out whatever storms blow our way, and of treating life like the gift it is, no matter what we do, where we live, or what we have. What we all are is enough.

It is in this vein that I choose to take a major break from social media, on the professional front. As a teacher and writer, a self employed woman, I'm encouraged by society to use the tools of Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and the numerous others to market myself better, to sell whatever "brand" I've deemed myself to be. I think many do this brilliantly, with humor, dignity and respect. But it's just not in my instinct to do this well. I've enjoyed my connection with readers and students, but my greatest joy comes from in person exchanges, email correspondence and deep telephone conversations. Not from digital connection but real connection.

The expense of energy trying to play a game of social media chess is just too much at this time in my life. I want to focus on being a great teacher for my students, an honest writer for those of you readers I'm so grateful to have, and most importantly, a present and reliable loved one for my family, friends and animals I'm fortunate to love.

I will keep my website and blog alive so those interested can know when and where I'm teaching and have access to my pieces of writing. I'm grateful and hope you'll stay connected. Social media will always be there, I'm sure I'll return at some point, hell, maybe sooner rather than later, but for now, I need the clarity of simplicity. I need to stop and smell the roses. I need to Be.

Today I will shut up and listen, sit still and Be, and remember that there is always an adventure lying inside of me. And I hope to help you remember the same.

Please enjoy a two minute video on my favorite restorative pose. If you have a bolster, you may use that instead of the two blocks. Give yourself permission to be still and bliss out, open your body without having to burn calories or sculpt it. Rest and play are just as important as action and productivity. Give yourself the gift. Stop and smell the roses in your life.

Email me anytime at danieatslife@gmail.com

Overcoming Anxiety

If there’s one psychological experience that jars most humans in some form, it is recurring bouts of anxiety. We can all relate to the uneasy, nervous feelings that often go along with a future unknown. Despite differences in age, race, background, religious and political ideology, income level, or sexual orientation, feeling worry and tension over what’s to come is actually something that connects us all.

The intensity of the experience lies within the individual but it is imperative to strike an honest, open dialogue free from any judgment or shame. Sure, the negativity manifests differently in us all, but that doesn’t mean our sharing in what brings or exacerbates our anxiety and how we’ve managed to learn from it won’t benefit others. The more we collaborate in tackling these basic human challenges, the less power they have over us and the more likely we are to overcome them.

It is precisely within that dialogue where I found inspiration to write this piece. I wanted to write it with someone from a very different background, with her own unique challenges with anxiety, but one who I feel deeply connected with on this path. Our journey coming together was vastly different but the truths and insights we’ve gleaned are so similar and connected, we know they can help others.

Leeann is Yoga student, recently became a certified teacher, finishing her last year of college. After undergoing a particularly challenging divorce as a child, being an anxious teenager, along with the pressures of being a dancer contributed to deeply personal issues with control. The converging issues in her mind had nearly cataclysmic consequences on her body, after years of digging deep and undergoing significant amounts of pain (both physical and emotional), Leeann has emerged into one of the wisest, most compassionate, open and tremendously helpful human beings I know.

We’ve come together to share tools that have helped us manage our anxiety. Are we cured? Finished? Complete? No. We are each ever-evolving works in progress, but what we understand now is we don’t have to be complete or perfect to know we are whole, to know we are enough, to start the day with gratitude and withstand whatever highs and lows the outside world throws at us.

We recognize now how important our inner dialogue is and how deeply, profoundly connected the mind and body are and always will be. We share a bit of our personal experiences and then our most helpful tools. You will notice similarities and common truths, but we each carry a different echo. We hope you resonate with either of our words and will feel encouraged to start your own dialogue.

My experience with anxiety began very young. I’d lay awake just stewing at night, from the early ages of 7-8-9 I’d have trouble sleeping due to an over-active imagination. Sometimes this creativity can be fun, exhilarating even, but when the initial experiences of sadness, tragedy and heartache set in, the imagination is then led down a winding road of misery, and the very thought of those experiences repeating themselves would send my heart and gut into a tailspin of fear. The fear would build and I’d get sick, whether it be vomiting, aches and tension in my body, or even symptoms of the common cold, they all began and grew from an idea.

Making matters worse, I constantly felt guilt for those I knew who had circumstances much worse than mine. I felt gratitude for the good I had, the loving people in my life, but for some reason the noise of the good couldn’t overpower the constant chatter of the bad. I was trapped in a device of my own making and I didn’t even see it! I still had my happy days, of course, but inside, the unknown future kept me feeling a sense of dread. I feared I’d disappoint the world and that the world would ultimately disappoint me.

I’d yet to realize what power I held, what tools I had in my disposal, and the total lack of awareness that kept me perpetuating these vicious cycles. To borrow a line from Perks of Being a Wallflower, I felt happy and sad at the same time without knowing why. I felt sad, confused, unsure of anything. As soon as I’d strike out batting, I’d fear going back up to the plate, literally and figuratively. I let what-ifs takeover and it wasn’t until I began practicing Yoga consistently, deciding to become a teacher and delving into the wisdom of Eckhart Tolle, Joseph Campbell, Osho and others, that I woke the hell up and saw the misery I was repeatedly inflicting upon myself.

Below are some tools that have seen me through tough times and continue to see me through tough days:

-Disassociating from thoughts: We all talk to ourselves, internally or out-loud, there’s a dialogue within one mind. Recognize yourself as the witness, not simply the thinker. You are not your thoughts. How could you be something so small, so fleeting? You are the conscious presence behind them.

I borrow and echo this wisdom through Eckhart Tolle. I’ve been practicing staying aware of my mind-chatter and over the years it has become much, much easier. Set an intention to watch your thoughts, either through meditation, journaling, Yoga, setting an alarm a few times a day to check in and just observe, or whatever method works for you. Practice is key.

-Breathing through during the worst days: the greatest gift Yoga gave me was a stronger attention to my breath. When I’m anxious, worried, scared, stewing, my breath is short, labored, tense. My body is too. When I’m breathing, everything softens. Suddenly, I listen more acutely, I watch more intently, I’m more present. Combine watching your thoughts with slow breaths and you’ll see your mood transform within minutes.

-Movement/exercise/yoga: I do not count calories or exercise for weight loss benefits. I move because it feels good, it improves my attitude, keeps me energized and friendly. It also keeps metabolism ticking, my heart in great shape and muscles active. Win win. I always encourage students and loved ones to find movement they enjoy, be it walking, Yoga, dance, Pilates, gardening, hiking, responsible weight lifting, moderate running, playing with your dogs or children, frisbee, I could go on. Your body is a machine. It needs and wants to move. Use it or lose it.

-Being with others: I hold no specific religion or ideology in my heart. I feel we are born to love. Often specific regimens within spirituality are gateways to this experience. Sometimes they’re stifling. If yours opens you up, elevates you, makes you feel more love and respect for yourself and others, keep on keepin’ on. I have found my relationships with students, deep friendships and fostering stronger relationships with long-term loved ones to be an excellent religion and moral compass.

I don’t believe in holding onto bad relationships, whether family or otherwise. That is within your heart to decide who to keep close and who to wish well but send on their path. People say relationships, marriage in particular, are work. I disagree. It shouldn’t feel like work. Love yourself first, rely on that as your priority, your number one sense of confidence comes from within. Love is a reflective experience. Choose loved ones who elevate you. Period. Laugh, dance, walk, cry, exchange ideas and experiences with the same goodness you give.

-Give fear the middle finger: Confronting what it is that scares you proves the worst case scenario lies in your mind. Most things we talk ourselves out of will not even come close to killing us. It may hurt our feelings but there are valuable lessons within rejection and failure. Knowing what you can withstand will only make you stronger and more fearless, willing to try, willing to truly take steps toward your big dreams.

Recognize that what scares you is also what excites you, see the positive emotion over the negative what-ifs. Follow the excitement, believe in your ability to handle the inevitable ups and downs.

From Leeann: As a person who started Paxil at the age of 13, “anxiety” is a word that has resonated with me for many years. I spent my adolescence in and out of therapy and on and off of medications, never thinking twice about the fact that these weren’t permanent fixes. I would stay up all night checking my doors to make sure that they were locked and practicing superstitious rituals that I thought would keep my family and me safe.

I was scared to apply for jobs, meet new people and talk in class. It wasn’t until I started taking my yoga practice seriously and letting it penetrate my every day life that I was able to get off the medication and start dealing with my anxiety in a more direct way. This is a constant process and the lessons I learn on and off my mat help me to get through even the toughest days with anxiety. I know now that my anxiety doesn’t get to dictate my life and by taking baby steps, I am able to live more freely and open than ever before.

My journey with anxiety has given me the opportunity to experiment with different tricks and techniques to help me calm down and let go.

Inhale and Exhale- I find that whenever I am feeling anxious, my breath is the first thing that goes. Recognizing that and being able to slow down your breath can make a huge difference. It sounds almost too simple, but after about five deep and steady breaths, I always feel some relief. It helps if I count my inhales and exhales and make the numbers match. That way I give my body a chance to gain back control.

- Connections- Yoga has also brought me some amazing friends that have had a significant impact on how anxiety affects me. The people in my yoga community are open and loving humans who understand the depth of the mind-body connection, which is key in understanding anxiety. They’re helpful because they’re always encouraging me to stay out of my head. They serve as a distraction from my anxiety if I need it, or as listening ears if I want to talk about it. Surrounding yourself with loving, open people can keep you present and in the moment, rather than worrying about the future or the past.

- Leaning into fears- I have many small, trivial fears that come along with the bigger, more serious fears that can send me into a panic attack. I am learning that in some unconscious way, these fears are connected. While I can’t practice whether or not I will get a job when I graduate, or if I will be able to handle moving to a new city on my own, I found that I can practice fears that are on a smaller scale.

I recently bought a bike and started riding it in Chicago. I hesitated and was terrified to take this step as I came very close to losing a person dear to me in a bike accident two years ago. I always knew biking would be the most efficient way to get around the city, but I was consumed by the potential negatives. Thinking about getting on a bike in this fast-paced city gave me a knot in my stomach and triggered a sequence of dark and scary thoughts. Once I realized how little living in fear was doing for me, I decided to try taking baby-steps toward practicing courage and facing my fears head on. Since I began riding, I’ve noticed that I’m able to handle some of my more irrational fears that usually extract an anxious reaction.

By getting on my bike, I was practicing the act of freeing myself from constant worry and fear. I showed myself that my anxiety does not have to control me. Most of our fears are related to things completely out of our control, so by practicing facing fears that are in our control, we are learning to face and overcome. This could mean anything from riding a roller coaster to traveling to a new country on your own to telling someone a truth you’ve yet to reveal. It doesn’t matter so long as you’re giving yourself a brief moment where you’re letting go.

-Living Yoga off the mat- take your favorite quotes, memes, philosophies and lessons into the world, implement them on your bad days, not simply agreeing with them when times are easy.

None of these tools provide easy solutions. There isn’t an on and off button. They’re choices, tough choices to make in the midst of anxiety, but tremendously helpful in easing the intensity and moving through it. Applying the principles in everyday life, regardless of outside circumstances, will help keep a strong, calm presence within. Keep the dialogue moving. We can encourage each other through this.

Leeann Hepler works for a fantastic organization called Smarty Pants Yoga. Their goals surround empowering young girls through Yoga, teaching the real meaning of confidence, self love, strength, intelligence, and happiness. They're doing great work, you should check them out.

I continue to teach Yoga and write in the Los Angeles area. I teach private, couple, group and workplace Yoga, along with meditations, guided relaxation, and psychological coaching on building your own sense of health and happiness. Please feel invited to email me at danieatslife@gmail.com for any questions and needs.

Twisted

TwistedGut aching Heart calling I know the direction Just need forward motion For all parts of my being To move together in kind Living as one cohesive piece More heart Less mind Shift Transition Progress Evolve Answers inside Each problem solved Nurture Your nature Foster True being Love is my first action Living is believing Let's get twisted

What is Discipline?

Discipline is an everyday commitment to your worthiness. Most things that require discipline have major long term benefits, be it to our health, happiness, personal or professional success. All that is worth achieving in life requires a focus and determination those less confident are unable to sustain. We must believe we are not only capable, but also deserving of the joy and accomplishments we hope to achieve. While buying myself a chocolate chip cookie from a juice bar the other day (well aware of the irony here), I noticed a wooden placard with a quote from Thomas Jefferson. It read: “Do you want to know who you are? Don’t ask. Act. Action will delineate and define you.” There are few truer words spoken.

If you want to get a sense of yourself, and of others for that matter, watch them in action. Sure, listen to their words, pay attention to your own thoughts, tune in to subtleties in body language and attitude, but simply pay attention to action, it speaks louder and more boldly than any words can attempt.

Discipline is all about action, moving from thinking to doing. It has very little to do with wanting, trying, or believing, and everything to do with seizing. We must move, even if we’re unsure of the correct direction, we must channel the energy of forward progress and take that first step into something new.

I am personally craving and in need of discipline because I am still in the middle of what feels like a major transition. As many of you know, I recently moved from Chicago to Los Angeles. Although each are big cities and come with unique challenges, they couldn’t be more different, in climate and in culture.

I’d finally built my teaching and writing career into a level of progress I felt satisfied with, not satisfied enough to just stop and give up, but a level that ignited a confidence in me to keep growing. I could not love my students more, having a modest but loyal following at three studios in such a magnificent city filled me with gratitude I’d never felt.

But those famous Chicago winds came and forced me to show what a genuine yogi I really was (or wasn’t). I left with many tears and slight resistance, choosing to release attachment once I drove out of Illinois. I felt the excitement of opportunity and growth ahead, but I was also scared shitless. I yearned for the same experiences in Chicago, the same successes and joys, to follow me to LA. But for that I needed to grow, adapt and change.

My month long pause in Bali and Thailand was a tremendous gift to allow me to reset. It helped me to be truthful about the issues I still carried: feeling worthy of success, deserving of love, truly capable of living out all these big dreams I had. It helped me to more accurately see how I still wasn’t quite practicing what I was teaching. I lived from passion and enthusiasm, that was no bullshit, but the unconditional love and acceptance of myself, that same sensation I would encourage my students to foster, had yet to take permanent residence within me.

I felt guilt and hypocrisy over my struggle, which I then had to take a step back and reflect: ‘Danielle, you’ve worked to overcome perfectionism and unfair standards you placed on yourself for the past decade. You feeling shame over not being completely over these difficulties, essentially for being human, is precisely what’s keeping you from moving forward and out.’

Bali was therapeutic magic and my emergence back into LA, with the goals of building similar success I had teaching in Chicago had me feeling both inspired and overwhelmed all at once. I had no routine, no work, no friends, and no discipline. I’d carried out a personal practice/ sadhana for roughly a week but I’d made no real efforts to delve deep into my personal growth as I was encouraged to do in Bali.

I forgot all that practice and introspection wouldn’t just magically cling to my heart without my own personal diligence in keeping it there. I felt such love, a real cleansing of old habits, and a strong idea of the woman I was becoming when I left Asia. Now it’s time to continue the work.

It is today that I begin a true sadhana, a 40 day practice that will take form in many areas of my life. The nut shell of my devotion to growth is below:

-Rise by 7. Stretch and smile. Neti. Short asana practice to prepare my body for the day, pranayama (breath practices), a few key asanas/poses, and stillness (contemplation, meditation, repetition of a mantra, etc.) -Throughout my practice, and my day, the mantra I repeat is I AM WORTHY -Devote 2-3 hours to writing and teaching projects -Devote 1-3 hours to widening my yoga and friendship network -No alcohol, limited sugar, less bread, more fruits and veggies -Read, snuggle with my dogs -Cultivate feelings of abundance by keeping a gratitude journal, noting the areas where I’m already rich and full, and opening myself to financial sustainability and ease from this day on -Watch my thoughts, every negative word I say about myself or another, police my complaints and express affirmations and silver linings instead -At least one long hug and one long kiss a day (dogs included and accepted, for the hugging!) -Call at least one loved one a day, e-mail is only form of digital communication, social media is taking a back burner to real life connections and feedback

So this may seem like a lot or like nothing at all but for me, these small steps are pivotal in me maintaining this commitment to myself. When I teach, it is all about my students. I share personal anecdotes in hopes they resonate with my human struggles, but mainly my energy is there to serve them on their path, to help them build strength and love from the inside out.

This sadhana is a method to ensuring I practice what I teach, so I may lead effectively and inspire others to find the same love, gratitude and joy that Yoga has helped me feel. Students and loved ones are major sources for my gratitude and helpful in keeping my accountability. And readers are too.

I toyed with just keeping this sadhana silent, private, but then I realized how much worse I feel when I let others down, recognizing how I seem to let myself down too often, and that’s somehow okay. Well, it’s not. You are worthy of your discipline, acceptance and sincere belief more than any other human being on this planet. And so am I. When we take care of ourselves, we open up a well of generosity, kindness and compassion that we cannot help but give others.

I am taking care of myself so I can take even better care of you, whoever that may be. I do believe that we’re in this together, that we need each other, and there is great strength in allowing that vulnerability to seep in. What I want is to connect deeper to that friend I have within, that sweet and soft essence in me that trusts in my innate goodness and believes in my potential greatness, the voice that knows I am no better and no worse than another, so I can release the stress of competition and comparison, be happy for my fellow human beings’ path while fearlessly able to pursue my own.

In Yoga, we are constantly reminded that everything worth striving for in life takes great effort, discipline and patience. We must be in full acceptance where we are, in whatever step we’re taking toward a greater goal, because life is not a means to an end, it is the end, the be all end all. I would regret spending my life struggling to reach something forever out of my grasp because I never allowed myself to simply Be, to know that where I was, was exactly where I needed to be, and each baby step to progress is a monumental leap in bliss.

I leave you with an image captured by the beautiful Pacific Ocean. This was after my first week teaching here in LA and I was celebrating the joyous years of love and growth by sharing how my discipline in Yoga earned me more than power, strength and control, but a pliability as well, an opening to move forward heart first. Mat is metaphor for life. I carry the same strength, flexibility and discipline in my heart and mind as I do my body. Years ago, this felt far out of reach, but through action and practice, I got there. Who knows where we can all go?

We all have a unique power we cannot even fathom. Believe. You are worthy of discipline. How can you help yourself to better sustain it, believe it and achieve it?

If this resonates with you, please feel welcomed and invited to engage in a dialogue with me via e-mail at danielle@danieatslife.com

Here’s a short piece I wrote on Vulnerability for MindBodyGreen that published today.

You can catch me at the Green Yogi in Manhattan Beach and other studios around the Los Angeles area. I teach private lessons in person and on Skype and I foster long term relationships with my students so that we may continue to grow as happy, healthy humans together. Come eat life with me...

How Many Likes Does it Take to Feel Loved?

I have a love/hate relationship with social media, as I’m gathering most of us do. It’s such a bizarre little world, a fragmented bubble hardly representative of real life, and yet we place an obscene amount of importance on it. We invest so much energy, so much of our time on this very arbitrary form of connection.

On one hand I love how I am able to connect instantly with loved ones all around the world. How astounding is that? Bam! Instantaneous. We all hate waiting, and Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and a billion others make it easy for us impatient fools to have what we want right here, right now!

I genuinely love seeing photos of my friend’s children, their travels, hearing about their successes, funny anecdotes, odd memes, you name it. But being self-employed, attempting to market myself as a teacher and writer through my measly little Facebook page proves an odd challenge, one I find simultaneously meaningless yet strangely important in maintaining whatever business it is I’m running.

Facebook controls every element. Despite having a modest but somewhat successful following, only a small fraction of those who’ve ‘Liked’ my page are actually exposed to my posts. I cannot predict what times work best to post, whether photos are better than statuses, whether videos get more traction than other posts, who the hell is seeing my posts and why. It nauseates me to even think about this.

I decided months back to let go of any attachment to it. Whether 1 or 1000 people saw a post from me, I’d release something positive or informative into the digital universe regardless, hoping to add a little something to another’s day, to share a bit of me with the world. Perhaps it’ll bring another person to class, another reader to my articles, another connection to my microcosm.

Then I moved to LA. Everyone has a page, a website, a twitter, an instagram, you name it, they’ve got it. And they know their stats. There’s actually something called Rate Your Burn, where you can promote or criticize a teacher you’ve experienced, which has nothing to do with Yoga but everything to do with setting yourself apart and being ‘better’ than another.

Upon meeting some fellow teachers for the first time, one very boisterous and well-meaning girl speaks of a recent argument with her sister over not ‘Liking’ her statuses enough. Sigh....Seriously? It’s THAT important? I know it’s not to all, but given people of all ages, races, and socioeconomic backgrounds are making their way to Facebook and other social media outlets, it points to a bizarre truth in how we are choosing to connect these days, through the screen of a computer even more than the eyes of another. And trivial as it all is, we value its feedback, we glean confidence and feelings of success and love over mere ‘Likes’.

But I am just as guilty. I quietly feel the need to post, to check in with feedback, to expose myself more and more in some attempt to be seen or heard. But why? I resisted social media for so long and then I succumbed so deeply that I now can hardly see a way out or back. I’ve felt disappointed, inadequate, unappealing and minor hurt when a piece I’ve expressed and exposed, however small or meaningless, gets little traction or feedback.

I have a relatively small amount of friends on Facebook, given the nature of most, so the ‘Likes’ I acquire on both my personal and professional pages are small in comparison to some others. It shouldn’t matter, but somehow those numbers have an effect on our brains. And so I began asking, “How many likes does it take to feel loved?”

Do I really have a few hundred friends, 2700 loyal students and readers? Of course not. Those numbers are so arbitrary, so transient, so feeble, so unpredictable. Why place my happiness, sense of success or feelings of worth in the hands of something so totally out of my control? Why compare myself in any way to the personal or professional feedback given to others? It is a fool’s errand.

Only those who know me well can truly provide feedback into my experience as a human being. Only those who actually read my work and take the time to carve a thoughtful response can provide some semblance of insight into the impact I may be having in that realm. Only students who’ve experienced my classes in person can supply me with genuine observations and responses so I may then determine how I’m resonating with my community.

Only through exchanges, bilateral connections, conversations, and pure energetic feedback can I feel real love. And only through my relationship with myself, my view of my place in this world, may I open to receiving the true love I hope I deserve. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram are simply weird bubbles of chaos, sometimes positive, sometimes negative, sometimes poetic, and often times completely pointless.

No one can make me feel whole, full, or enough but Me.

No one can make me feel attractive, unattractive, appealing or unappealing but Me.

No one can motivate me to achieve authentic success and respect but Me.

My fellow humans are teachers, signposts for growth, inspiration, trust and Love. But people are merely a reflective experience of whatever’s happening within. And the digital universe carries only one iota of a percentage compared to real, in the flesh exchanges. The truth of the matter is, in life, and on the internet, people will like and dislike, ignore and adore at all times. It cannot be controlled and it should not matter. Social media should be used for fun, for humor, quick insights and information, as a means to connect and collaborate, but its influence should be minimal, limited to the superficial form it is.

It takes zero ‘Likes’ to feel truly loved.

17 to 27...Life after 9/11

I was 17 years old, a senior in high school. Counting down the days until college. My cynical, bordering on bitter views were only about to catapult to the height of what was the Twin Towers. Coming off 8 years of nothing but a stained dress, the majority of citizens, especially my peers at the time, took living in our country majorly for granted. They felt patriotism but without the background or understanding. Elementary and middle school U.S. History and/or American Government in high school did not prepare us for the inherent, even life-threatening level of patriotism we’d soon exhibit. Every single cognitive human being about to don red, white and blue and stick a flag in their yard was about to lose their proverbial innocence, thanks to a few nut-log anti-capitalism, western living haters on September 11th, 2001. At this point, I don’t think about 9/11 on a daily basis, probably not even weekly. I do happen to glance at the clock at 9:11 frequently, but I’m too logical to consider that anything but coincidence. The fact that I always see 11:11 and 7:11 as well makes me think I’m glancing at the clock too much. I’m always reminding myself and others of presence and constantly checking the time is the antithesis of that practice. But I digress. The fact of the matter is 9/11 changed me as much as anyone else old enough to understand that day, and what I received was a crash-course on the world we live in, a violent place sporadically strewn with love and beauty.

Walking into my college English class at approximately 8:05 in the morning (I cannot remember accurately, forgive me), I noticed my liberal, rebellious teacher had the television on, and one of the big, ugly rectangular (please admit now that they were ugly, it’s still a tragedy, don’t get your panties in a bunch, but just because they were tall doesn’t mean they were some feat of modern architecture) skyscrapers were in flames. In a matter of weeks I was about to embark on my first trip to NYC, to say I was excited would of course be a vast understatement. The image on the screen confused me, my mind didn’t immediately know it was terrorism, nor did it recognize today was 9/11, clearly someone was deliberately inflicting a nationwide emergency on us, but my naive, albeit skeptical mind still couldn’t comprehend this. I sat in silence, stunned, while my idiot classmates laughed and high-fived over not having class. See why I was excited to graduate? And also why I was single? I was no picnic either, but at least I was mature enough to know to shut the hell up and not be happy about it.

Watching the second tower get drilled by the west coast bound plane solidified the terrorist theory and watching the first tower burn to the ground propelled a new fear, sadness and compassion I never knew existed. All I thought was, holy shit, all those people, what a horrible, lonely, frightening way to die. The images of firefighters running up the towers are burned (forgive the pun) in my brain and make me think if losing a specific group that day was more sad than another, it was the first responders, those displaying bravery most in our country could never equate to. We arrogantly proclaim to support the troops and often cheer our military on as we fly over countries none of us have been as they drop bombs on strangers, killing people we’ll never know and couldn’t have possibly, ever understood. That element of patriotism I’ll never comprehend or endorse, I’m sorry.

Not to be a downer on this day, but we need to face facts. Here’s how we’re worse: Religious intolerance- we’re all probably guilty of racial profiling, and instead of questioning the legitimacy of our own beliefs and what potential negative consequences strict religious allegiance can bring about, we seemingly delved deeper into our chosen organized religion (probably a denomination of Christianity) and let our discrimination and ignorance expand over Muslim people and their beliefs. Blindly following politicians- Because of the initial fear over 9/11 and our subsequent terror over anything resembling the middle-east, the majority of us swallowed the ugly war in Iraq pill wanting to believe so desperately we needed to be there. We didn’t. Nothing positive has emerged from this war; only unnecessary death, the ever-expanding deficit, astronomical costs on oil which we seem hell-bent on depending and the loss of previously respected and productive relationships with foreign countries. Afghanistan was understandable, but our current president needs to do more to get us out of there. Bin Laden was hiding in Pakistan for years and is now dead, let’s move on to stifling more legitimate threats like Iran and North Korea. Treatment of those we hold so dear- My cousin/older brother Eric (Cuzzy as we call each other) is one inspired by the tragic events inflicted on our country and decided to become a member of the Jacksonville Fire and Rescue Department. He is dedicated, loyal, never complains, just works, and their antiquated and arbitrary methods of advancement have screwed him time and time again. He’s been injured and affected physically, most likely emotionally as well, after many fires, seen unimaginably grim life-situations and disturbing levels of death. Does he talk about it, brag about it, ask the government for recognition, support, money? No. And similar to the first responders still struggling to receive their government help, Cuzzy and his beautiful, hard-working elementary school teacher wife, Angie, consistently receive cuts or the status quo and it’s bullshit. If anything this tragedy should force us to suck it up and spend the extra money on Education and those working in fields most of us could not stomach, and not just the military either. That is a cop-out. The levels of waste on the federal level I have personally witnessed would anger even the most conservative, freedom loving person. It needs to change. And I really hope it does.

Please have a rational, open enough mind to understand why I wrote what I did above. I love this country and similar to my love for myself, I expect the damn best out of it. I don’t begin to believe I understand the depth of our financial difficulties or how to solve them, nor would I want to be burdened with that responsibility, but my hope is when reminded of how we all felt the afternoon of 9/11, that same unity will re-emerge in that overgrown high school that is Washington D.C. I’m probably under the disenfranchised youth umbrella but I am informed and do choose to vote. I read, watch various news programs (not simply one channel whose non-objective analysts conveniently hold my beliefs), and engage in discussions with people smarter and wiser than I. This only exacerbates my frustration, but for some reason, within all this madness, all the exposure of our politicians being seedy little liars, I still feel tremendous hope. And here comes the positive.

Once my peers mommies and daddies sat their teenaged lazy asses down and explained how getting to watch TV all day in class was, in fact, not a good thing, quite the contrary, my classmates started to mature, slowly, and we all collaborated on some pretty gnarly patriotism. National pride can see many ugly consequences, as I’ve watched over these past 10 years, but then it was so pure, sweet even. Those not even understanding our constitution started voraciously reading it, along with other pertinent American history documents. Although it was fairly niche focused reading, 9/11 inspired it, and that’s never a bad thing.

Opposing the aforementioned, for a percentage of us, that day in September brought about our own catharsis, and therefore, a new understanding and tolerance of others. Perhaps to rebel against those acting in opposition, I led the way via my opinions and actions my Freshman year of college, arguing for religious and racial acceptance, and I was not alone. Regardless what some harbor inside, outwardly most at the very least attempt to accept everyone, knowing it is at the very core of our constitution and what typically lifts the United States above our less evolved fellow countries. Freedom of Speech is alive and well here, for better or worse, and although I’d like to squelch the constantly squawking mouths of some, I’m grateful, as a woman and human being, that I can express my opinion, no matter how outrageous, in a civilized manner.

Love. I felt much more loving after that day. I wholeheartedly admit my residence in the bitter barn throughout the majority of my teenage years. A by-product of my parents’ and family members’ divorces, combined with my inquisitive and cynical nature, a protective shell was sure to form, and it did, right with the Fuck You on my forehead (I was told I had this at around 20, so this is not me saying this, clearly I was projecting it. That was first love nonsense and nothing else). I think this common experience brought many together, some that may not have otherwise, and it led to more debate and open discussion we’ve seen since the Kennedy assassination. For me, tired of my loneliness and otherwise wuss ways of the heart, I opened myself to a non-deserving idiot and got my heart-broken, spending 3 years single and lonely. Sounds depressing, right? No, I was inspired to open myself up, I did, enjoying it for a short time, and then I was much more selective, only leading to a few other dating experiences and then meeting my hot piece of man with whom I’m currently betrothed. Not too shabby. It was slow, but 9/11 lead to 9/22, my eventual wedding date.

This is more of a journal entry on a day that inspires reflection. I’ve always been a thinker and a dreamer, and that awful day led to some nightmares, but mostly I feel it thrusted that deep “grab life by the balls” mentality and not taking anything for granted. So I don’t. I have little to no unnecessary drama, amongst family and friends. Only love, laughter and food. We may not all agree politically, or religiously, but we know the love of each other predominates anything else, and that bond is indestructible. No terrorist can touch what is so simple, primal and strong, and that is love. Americans shoved a big Fuck You up haters throats when we unified, loved not only the known, but strangers and unknown loving, liberty lobbyists as well, American dream in tact, never to be destroyed.

We all have our personal 9/11’s, we’ve experienced our own this summer, and the same epiphany emerged 10 years later. All you need is Love. And locate your balls and go for your dreams. Poetic, isn’t it? I always wanted to live in Italy and for three years, I did. Same with NYC, and after 8 years of multiple trips and visits, I parked my ass there for a few months and embarked on Yoga teacher training, a life-changing adventure full of lessons, fun times and some incredible, lasting friends. Now, while teaching Yoga throughout Chicago, I’m pursuing another dream, writing. The same perspective 9/11 instilled in us all that day has reverberating effects. I will not waste my life, sacrifice my dreams, or overlook the importance of loved ones. If those still living in fear from their horrible experience that day could only relinquish that fear and gain the lesson that has benefited me and others, this country and their personal world would be a more benevolent place. That may sound pageanty, but my personal experience with this brings some credibility, and the copious amounts of people who got on with it and didn’t look back, like my Cuzzy.

I hope things continue to progress because we certainly cannot continue to live in the mediocrity we’ve created. Change is necessary for progression and for our country to remain an example others wish to emulate. People sneak into this country for a reason, let’s work to keep that desire alive. The idea of America is alive and well. My family and friends give me reason to believe. Keep hope, and love, alive.