A Cure For Lethargy and Winter: Have Food Delivered To Your Door!

This is nothing new. Ordering pizza for delivery. Big whoop, right? Wrong. Incorrect. This is in fact a true gift from the culinary gods, especially living in the vast food haven that is the city of Chicago. We’ve had a remarkable winter thus far. Cannot complain. Most Chicagoans are tough as nails anyway, making the best of whatever the lake effect wind blows our way. We spend many days hunched, wrapping our coats tighter around our shivering bodies, lowering our head to avoid the wind, keeping our eyes down at the ground so there’s no tripping, slipping or falling. It does a number on our posture and on our moods. This winter we’ve been fortunate enough to look up, to de-layer, wear less, smile more. We’ve been gifted some windy, snowy days to remind us what normal winters entail, and then we receive a few days of warmth and sunshine to melt any crankiness away. On those “average” days, when the wind howls and the temperature drops, I recommend you park under your electric blanket (if you don’t have one, give yourself the gift or have an awesome mom give it to you like mine did, especially in a cold winter), call one of the great places listed below, pop in a good flick and wait for pleasure to be delivered to your door.

If I had to give thanks to 5 things beyond what truly matters, beyond my amazing family and friends, beyond my health and lasting happiness, my dreams, values, yoga, yada yada, I’d most certainly put pizza on that list. I love almost every version of pizza, even some frozen varieties. I love creative and bizarre pizzas (see Dimo’s, formerly Ian’s). I love Chicago style (Pequod’s!). And I love good ole NYC style cheese pizza. And for that, I won’t go anywhere else but Gigio’s. Even my enthusiasm for food and writing cannot bring adequate words to page to describe the simple yet exquisite delight that is this pizza. To me, and roughly 15 people we share pies with from time, Gigio’s is perfect. I cannot fathom a way to improve it. The original location is in Evanston, a charming suburb on the north-side of Chicago. Sometimes I wish I grew up there. I know some genuinely unique and wonderful people who emerged out of Evanston’s streets and they all know and love Gigio’s as well. They now have a location on North Broadway, in Uptown. The location is nothing special, not nearly the nostalgic experience I feel when visiting the Evanston shop, but either is remarkable for delivery or take-out. I highly, highly recommend! And now I’m craving it. One large cheese feeds our three large mouths very well. Nod to the spinach, pepperoni and sausage as well. Delectable. Sinful. Just like I like it. $16.55, little over $20 for delivery. For stellar pizza, that’s a fine deal in my book. They deliver til 2 am on the weekends and accept credit cards. Easy as a scrumptious, savory pie! 4643 N. Broadway St.  Chicago, IL 60640 (773) 271-2273

Almost everyone in this expansive country grows up with the luxury of pizza delivery. In the burbs it’s not always the greatest, but when you’re a kid, you could give two shits. Bread, cheese, hot, without effort, sold. Beyond the joy that is receiving quality pizza on a cold winter night is the sheer miracle of receiving Chinese food via the same transmission. If only we didn’t have to get off our asses and pay the poor sod braving the cold to bring food to a bunch of lazy sloths. Small mercies. For this, I recommend Mark’s Chop Suey on Halsted. I’m a gargantuan fan of wonton soup. Something compels me to order it regardless of my level of hunger, time of day or what entrée I’m pairing it with. And at Mark’s, all soups are very satisfactory and are beyond our normal Chinese fast food equivalents. I’ve a barrage of meat and veggie dishes, usually accompanied by both friend rice AND lo mein, I have no shame. You really cannot beat their dinner box deal’s. For one, you receive an egg roll or two crab rangoons (I love both, but who can pass up a crab rangoon? You shouldn’t. They’re crazy awesome.), choice of beef, pork, chicken or veggie entrée and a side of fried rice for $6.95. They deliver until 11 pm and are closed on Mondays. Slurp up some noodles and enjoy! Delivery Area: Division (1200 North) to Devon (6400 North) California (2800 west) to Lake Michigan (773) 281-9090

Here’s where I go back to some old favorites and recommend you order delivery now and then walk or ride your bike for a visit once it warms up. Or now, if you’re not a wimp like me. Panes is by far my favorite sandwich place in Lakeview. From the baked fresh daily bread, their refreshing sides and vegetables, quality deli meat, truly unbelievable cookies and even better prices, we order Panes probably twice a month. $5.95 a sandwich. Cash only so beware. They close at 9 so order early. 3002 North Sheffield Avenue  Chicago, IL 60657 (773) 665-0972

Crisp’s wings are truly unbelievable, large, perfectly executed and well worth the $8.95 for 5 price. I love their bowls and fried mushroom app too. They close at 9 as well are closed all day Monday. I’ve made the wretched mistake of craving them so intensely I have tunnel vision and want nothing else, all to call and find out it’s fricken Monday! Curses. Don’t make that mistake. Delivery Area: Lake Michigan to 2000 W Damen 1600 North (North Ave) to 4000 North (Irving Park). (773)-697-7610 (773)-697-7611

Despite my pension for pizza and cookies, I do enjoy eating healthy foods most often, just not late at night on the weekend’s. This next choice is a real American munchie craving, one you cannot sweat too much because of calories or fat, just enjoy it. When I have a hankering for BBQ and the energy of my dog Bear, I’ll call Risque Cafe. No, it’s not a strip club/buffet combo like it sounds, or like you’re used to, it’s an oddball concoction of whiskey and craft beers, and some damn fine BBQ. I love fried pickles. Theirs are speers, bursting with salt and flavor, piping hot, and excellent. Their pulled pork is juicy, tender, smokey and tangy and is paired with fantastic baked beans, surprisingly well made cornbread (I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, I live in the land of corn and more corn!), and an unnecessary side salad. What was even better, what I will order every single time from now on, is their F*ck Fidel sandwich, a meal and a sentiment most can get behind. Pulled pork, ham, swiss, fried pickles and mustard. Oh my f*cking god, mind-blowing, heart exploding, stomach challenging, taste buds in ecstasy. Toss it down with some crispy fries and you’re in for a good night’s sleep. Eat in moderation, as a treat. I can’t emphasize this enough. Sandwiches range from $7-10 and are served with fries or tots. This is a bit of a tease because Risque does not deliver, BUT, if you are enjoying a night in with someone, I highly recommend the “I buy, you fly” method, order it to-go, it’ll still be fresh when it gets home. 3419 N Clark Chicago, IL 60657 (773)-525-7711

Rounding out our countries visited is a trip to Mexico, or the gift of Mexico visits you! Azteca de Oro is a consistently well reviewed, healthy, unassuming establishment on Clark Street, just north of Wrigley Field. I truly enjoyed every dish, every staple ingredient, and every margarita I’ve ever had, at authentic Mexican restaurants. An important distinction. Azteca is BYOB if you want to bring some friends and enjoy the food right after it’s prepared, but succumbing to our lethargy as we often do, we thought it best to receive this meal via carrier. Our tacos, enchiladas, quesadillas and tortilla soup held out magnificently. Another home-run. Most entrée items run from $6-9, with the larger, more adultish choices being over $10. They’re open late and deliver their beautifully fresh and delicious food at warped speed. Enjoy! 3731 N. Clark St. Chicago, IL 60613 773-857-6565

A good night awaits you with any of these above and beyond delivery and carry out joints. At each, the hardworking staff provide genuine care in preparing every dish and delivering with optimum freshness. Living in the city, I personally walk miles a day. I love it. I can walk to most of my friend’s houses, take an elevated train and bask in the glory that is Chicago’s architecture, its vintage and modern beauty, its endlessly fascinating population and it’s infinite possibilities in memorable cuisine. Sometimes I need to rest these old bones while I watch the snow blow by, next to my radiator and my pups, in one of Chicago’s many great neighborhoods. Wherever you live, find the goodness. You can get bogged down with the sameness, the plain, the weather whoas and the distracting weirdos. Or you can embrace it for its totality and extract every bit of positive you can. If you live in Chicago and you complain about it, move. May sound harsh, but if you’re bored or unhappy it says more about you than it does the city. If you can’t plainly see the good or it’s not thrusted upon you on a silver platter, then do some work and find it. You deserve it. Have some great nights in!

Work hard. Play well. Live vibrantly and Eat even better. Masticate each bite thoroughly. Swallow with gratitude. Happy Eating.

La Via Del Respiro- The Way of the Breath

You were birthed not to absorb the emotional debt of your parents.Their dreams. Their mistakes. Their opinions. You emerged not to retreat back to where you once came. Your fears. Your lessons. Your truths. You are granted breath not to hold it hostage beneath your heart. Your air. Somehow separate. Now belonging to you. You awaken each day with a pulse, a rhythm with which to live your life. Your beat. Your stir. Your drum. You march to it, ignoring the deafening reverberations of others. Their stomp. Their sync. Their song. You submerge in it, forgetting. Your light. Your lyric. Your love. You find your path again. Your way. Your trail. Your hum. You see others on your way. Their successes. Their struggles. Their psalm. You let go of it all. Your past. Your failures. Your brawl. You hear yourself in their strum. Your uniqueness. Your sameness. Your all. You accept what is, the whole. Your goodness. Their connectedness. Oneness. You’re All.

The Complexity of Being Human: Reflections after The Tree of Life, Winnebago Man, and If A Tree Falls

I saw three mind-altering films in this past week. All three executed uniquely and brilliantly what I feel is the intention and truth of almost any form of art, and that is to epiphanize you, to inspire a light bulb moment, to make you think and feel in a new and interesting way. All three stayed with me, I’m still processing them even as I type. Each made me reflect on what it is to be human, to be alive on Earth, and how to navigate the very short time we seem to have in the most effective and positive way. These films each vary in tone, story, concept and expression, but they all linked together for me, each providing their own lessons in how (and sometimes how not) to live. The Tree of Life is a sweeping epic directed by motion picture impressionist Terrence Malick. I’d seen previews, read some reviews, and heard a lot of talk surrounding this film, but nothing prepared me for the engrossing experience that was watching it in its entirety. It is bold and unique and spellbinding. I was captivated, mouth agape, brain stimulated, heart swelling. It takes place during different time periods, a major plot focus being in a suburban American home in the 1950’s, cross-referenced with the present day, following a now adult from said 50’s home, and then magnificently intertwined with awe-inspiring images from space, nature and what one can only assume is imagination. Living with two cinematographers is akin to living with anyone with a specific skill-set. Except there’s two. So they’re speaking in this lingo, a photography based language, and similar to when you live in another country and simply hearing the language consistently helps you assimilate and learn it yourself, I’m appreciating shots, angles, lighting and the sheer visual spectacle that filmmakers pull off even more than I used to. This film has incomprehensible visuals, a thought-provoking story and lingering resonance.

Leading the film in yet another interesting role is Brad Pitt. Man has he had a fantastic year. I alluded to his talent and choices in my enthusiastic recommendation of Moneyball, and somehow I’m filled with even more excitement and vigor to spread the word about the Tree of Life. Brad plays a 1950’s archetype, the post WW2 father of three boys, a wannabe musician/composer, his character chooses instead a more traditional career path in order to support his family. He perfectly showcases what many of our father’s fathers probably exemplified; a slightly awkward but loving affection toward his sons and family, with an even more exaggerated disciplinarian, sensitive and exhaustively tough at the same time, and often in hurtful, unnecessary ways. This isn’t to discredit or even criticize these mostly wonderful men, but as we evolve, we get better, and I certainly see that in the men I know, how they’ve grown, learned from their mistakes, from their parent’s highs and lows, and how they now integrate who they are and who they were into the man they are now. Sean Penn plays Pitt’s eldest son as full-grown man, in the present day, still discombobulated by his past, his loss, and how to get to a better place for his future. This movie is too dense, too rich with symbolism and metaphor to adequately describe it, but trust that it is an extraordinary piece of work very much worth your time.

Throughout the film, we cascade up and down the muse for the film itself, trees. Having an appreciation and wonder for these old, majestic sculptures of nature brings genuine stillness to humans, freeze framing a moment outside of the chaos that is modern life. There’s something their strength, endurance and purpose can show humans beyond their gift of oxygen or paper. To sit with a tree and do nothing, say nothing, think nothing, is to sit with God/light/truth/essence/Love, and to feel that same life and essence within yourself. Throughout the film, whether it be through the subconscious of the father, mother, the son as a child or the son as an adult, we’re brought back to the simplicity and entity of life itself, that which connects us all, bringing us back down to Earth, out of our heads and back into our hearts, back to faith (the modern application, not the religious one) and hope and love, through the desperate yearning of each character. We see through their eyes, hear in their voices what they’ve lost touch with, what they’ve forgotten, how far they’ve deviated from the truth and how desperately they wish to find it again. It is a breath-taking and phenomenal reminder of the way back, the path to enlightenment, happiness, love, mere contentment, however you define a good life, and that is found by sifting through the muck and the mire and stripping away the melodrama, the clinging to the past, the anxiety over the future, to what we all are, ALIVE. We are alive and we take the miracle of that alone for granted. Next time you see a tree, let it be your path out of crankiness, complaining and negativity, and back into gratitude, optimism and Love.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXRYA1dxP_0

Winnebago Man is a documentary about a man who has been deemed the angriest man alive. Jack Rebney, an 80’s RV salesman and former journalist, become one of the world’s first viral video sensations when a 2 minute compilation of his outtakes took the VHS world by storm. Yes, VHS. Back in those days, people would watch the video, make their own copy and spread it that way. Then, thanks to Al Gore and his handy invention, the video spread like wildfire on the internet and has since been parodied by numerous comedians and celebrities and has garnered Jack a strong cult following. The clip is funny, a bit jarring and mostly just fascinating. Who is Jack Rebney? Is he still the angriest man in the world? Is he aware of his cyber notoriety? Where is he and what does he have to say? These are just a few questions the documentarians wanted to answer while making this film.

Throughout we watch the over 20 year saga unfold, learning about Jack back then, his legion of fans now, and the complicated process by which the filmmakers found him, living alone, deep in the woods of California. This movie is constantly surprising, by turning the focus on Jack, we see how frustration, impatience and anger can eat away at who we are, ultimately revealing a battered soul underneath all the armor. To see and hear Jack now and to watch his journey unfold as he deals with his infamy, his legacy and ultimately meets his loyal devotees is a very endearing and moving human interest story that helps shine a spotlight on our own attitudes and behaviors. I left feeling an increased dose of compassion, toward those carrying similar traits, to those who’ve had a negative impact on me, and certainly compassion toward myself. We’re all works in progress and can learn from Jack and from each other. I’m so glad I watched this film. Give it a whirl.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtCRVUdaiyw

Last night I watched a chilling documentary that recently won Best Documentary at this year’s Academy Awards. If A Tree Falls follows the story of a radical environmentalist group accused of arson and more astounding, eco-terrorism. You read the synopsis of a film, a brief biography of someone’s life, a glimpse into their reality, and it’s so easy and common to make snap judgments, to assume which side we fall on in the debate and that we’ve figured these people out. Think again. Whenever you assume, take a breath, create space and give yourself the opportunity to be wrong. I certainly was wrong in any preconceived notions I had and I’m grateful to learn. This film does brilliantly what any solid documentary should, tells an objective story, with all sides of the argument, providing facts and opinion, and leaving the audience to make up their own minds in the end.

The film follows Daniel McCowan, a major player in the ELF, the Earth Liberation Front, his involvement with the group, the multiple arsons and property destruction him and the ELF orchestrated, their arrests in 2005 and the enigmatic dismantling of what was initially a peaceful, conscious movement. I referred to this phenomenon in last week’s article about Science and Spirituality, but I’d like to shed light again on what a divisive subculture we’ve created seemingly worldwide, but especially rampant here and that’s the simple issue of environmentalism. I cannot fathom why this has become a partisan issue. It frustrates the living shit out of me, truly tugs at my gut, that those falling to the far right or left of these issues will not come together to improve the quality of air we breathe, the energy we consume, the resources we deplete. Why you’d automatically make up your mind on an issue simply because of what your bullshit politician/talking head tells you (because of which lobbyist or corporate entity is currently paying their rather expensive bills) is flabbergasting to me. Regardless how seriously you take the issue of clean water, air, conservation, climate change, animal welfare or the life of trees in general shouldn’t matter. We’re sharing this planet, this air, this water, this life, together, and we should find some common ground on how to productively improve our way of life. Easier said than done, but easier without squawking egos and their legions of seemingly blind followers. There’s plenty of good out there, no intention to be negative, but watching people argue solves nothing. We can absolutely come to a consensus, educate ourselves and make adjustments to improve our well-being.

All that being said, this film does a superb job in creating empathy and understanding for each side involved. The ELF began peacefully, as I stated previously, aiming to protect the formidable natural skyscrapers still left in the forests of Oregon. 95% of the forest has been manhandled, stripped and used for lumber. The images captured from various cameras sends chills and sadness down my spine. To watch thousand year old trees, with trunks that could fill up a suburban garage, being cut down, bit by bit, by men with huge saws, is disheartening and humbling. I knew this. I’ve seen other footage, but to watch it all go down and to see aerial views of the barren land, scant now missing these incredible beasts, leaves me bewildered and upset. The extent to which you take your emotions into action is what is questionable here. First, they linked themselves together, blocking access to the forest. You think while watching, “hell yes, high-five, keep it up,” but then it escalates. Stemming from various atrocities with law enforcement, where you watch officers physically open protesters’s eyes to infect them with pepper spray, as they’re literally just sitting, not showcasing aggression or disrespect, merely acting out of their constitutional right to protest, is gut-wrenching, even more so than watching each tree fall. You then see how violence inspires and begets violence, like attracts like, and the law of attraction just explodes within the system of ELF and what was once an earnest demonstration now becomes aggressive criminal acts as the members intelligently set flame to businesses and establishments responsible for much of the deforestation in our country. No human being has ever been killed or even injured from any of these fires.

The film flips back and forth between members of the FBI, owners of the lumber company whose offices were burnt to the ground, and a few key members of ELF as they weave through this crime drama. The degree and action taken accumulates and the tension accelerates to a palpable degree. I highly recommend observing how this true story turns out. After watching I sincerely understand and relate to each side. I see the motivation and beliefs in each party and I’m saddened to see where this story has led. What it left me feeling was informed, saddened and appalled. How did we come to this? Is this just the impetus for our breakthrough? Can we find common ground without throwing the baby out with the bath water? I’m hopeful and encouraged by those leading by example, bridging gaps and ignoring nay-sayers. The key, fundamental lesson in this story and in our current stream of consciousness is being vehemently opposed or against something or someone only serves to create more of the same. While the dialogue protesting galvanized is important and I think beneficial to culture as a whole, it is monumentally detrimental to those involved in the fight, doing the protesting or resisting the opposition. You cannot fight negativity with negativity, we’ve seen how that works out. As human beings, in our rather short 150,000 years on this planet, we’ve managed to overcome and transcend some fairly hideous and extreme norms, particularly in most industrialized nations. The war against drugs, poverty, terrorism (in all its derivations), gay marriage, women’s rights, and anything sparking hostile disagreements leads to only create more of the same.

More than that, those engrossed in these efforts, most to an obsessive, consuming level, are living a life full of anger, frustration, hate and negativity, on all sides of the argument. How is that to help the progress of the human race? Building those feelings day in and day out leads to unconsciousness, egomaniacal outbursts, and an early death, on an individual and societal scale. You get what you give, the frequency with which you operate only fuels whatever fire you’re currently and progressively stoking, so if you join up with like-minds, and in this case very radical minds, minds consumed with fear and rage, the only way to communicate is through incremental force, one-upping yourselves and your enemy. Thumbs up. What was so poignantly summed up toward the end of If A Tree Falls is the wisdom of hindsight. Most members of the ELF now regret the way they got their point across, as similarly reflected in law enforcement. Neither got what they wanted, they’re left with a bad reputation and a lingering residue of their caustic thoughts, emotions, and actions. It’s great to have this conversation, and applying the can’t we all get along philosophy is not the solution, or even a realistic one; but implementing a movement and cause that is FOR something, instead of AGAINST it, something that encourages and multiplies positive efforts, logical change, and even compromise is a value system which can actually stimulate evolution, seeing the changes we want to see and watching the increasing infallible growth among the human race. Through other's hindsight, we can utilize foresight to affect our future.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q2uAKxbDoDA

The greatest caveat to supreme learning and optimal happiness is to carry humility, to be comfortable in what you do not know and eager to find out more; to listen, to be patient with yourself and others, and to enjoy the necessary steps in taking your imagination into reality. It is a bio-psychological imperative to evolve beyond our fears, beyond our limitations, most of which are brought on by death, the knowledge of our own mortality and the trap that is our perceived timeline. Some of us who don’t believe in a pre-deterministic God, meaning a being/man/woman/omniscient vessel who’s orchestrating all of our events on Earth, determining each one of our fates and somehow designing all 7 billion of our lives, find ourselves bogged down by the pessimistic thought that life is meaningless, that somehow because we are armed with the responsibility to create our own happiness and success, to then become worm’s meat, leads some of us down this narrowing tunnel of stagnation. When we place bets on fear, on retreating, on withholding, on resisting change and progression, we win that bet every damn time. The same is the case when using violent tactics to force change. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy like everything your mind has ever constructed and repeated. Imagine if you just opened yourself to possibility and potential, to saying yes over no, to talking yourself into things rather than out of them. Your world and your experience of life would far exceed what it does otherwise, and the ripple effect on those around you would be tremendous.

Human Beings are what we are. Being Human is what we do. Be (human)e, to yourself, to your planet and all who share it with you.

The Unnecessary Divide Between Science and Spirituality

There’s been an ever-widening divide between two forces in our country and on our planet, and that is the big bold line between science and spirituality, facts and faith, logic and hope, heads and hearts. For innumerable reasons, some understandable, some completely irrational, we’ve gathered our collective egos and decided there needs to be war between the two instead of a respectful collaboration, perhaps even a friendship full of intelligent debate, where we throw all the unanswered questions into the pot and then work together to ask new questions. Due to human’s knowledge of their impending and inevitable death, often we’re lead into two corners to placate that frightening feeling surrounding the unknown. We seek solace under the exquisitely crafted religious structures to pray, sing and connect with a group of like-minded believers. Or, we throw on lab-coats and delve into the black hole that is scientific research, barely coming up for air, or god forbid food, sex, laughter, pleasure, just emerging for a brief interlude to explain why previous researchers were wrong and why we think we’re right today. Both science and scripture tries to explain the unexplainable, seeks eternal life and aims to quell the anxiety over our seemingly inescapable mortality. Both are right. Both are wrong. The space between the thinkers and the feelers has been filled with awkwardness, disrespect, and silence. Of course this isn’t the case with every single country, organization or person, but similar to the vast aisle separating democrats and republicans these days, there are more rooms filled with contention and hate, deaf ears and big mouths, than there used to be. There’s independent, atheist yogis like me in the middle, not knowing where to go, not wanting to offend the lefties who seek immediate progress and growth or the righties who seem hell-bent on resisting change. No coincidence here that science and spirit tends to align both left and right along the political spectrum, accordingly, thus creating a canyon, deep and wide, making it even more difficult to bridge and find away across. I feel strongly we could all be less rigid, less feverishly attached to our opinions and more open to a common understanding. This isn’t hippy dippy bullshit I’m spouting. World Peace! The concept of peace as it is understood within yoga and within most spiritual practices, is finding that very special essence within you and living, breathing, expressing and interacting from that space, the place of connectivity with all beings, the bridge from unknown to known, a real down n dirty lotus under the mud groundedness combined with an infinite potential for evolution, an enthusiastic curiosity about the expansive possibilities that not only we as individual human beings possess, but the mystifying unfamiliar presence lurking above the crown of our heads, beyond what meets the eye, beyond what the brain can grasp.

Last night I watched a fascinating documentary about DMT N,N-dimethyltryptamine, a natural occurring substance located in the pineal gland of human brains and active in many sentient beings, including plants and animals all across Earth. DMT has been labeled the spirit molecule, embraced by the brilliant minds aligned with both science and spirit, DMT is a biological locus to consciousness elevation, a molecule when activated, takes us out of our bodies and into the unknown, the infinite, above and beyond what our normal consciousness absorbs and into a heightened realm so potent, so indescribably interwoven and connected with all things, with all that ever was, is and will be, and then gently brings you back down to your body after only 15 minutes, leaving you spellbound and ecstatic. The book and film showcase how DMT, when activated and risen, either through the safe administration of psychedelic drugs (like Dr. Strassman executed in his careful research study) OR experiences felt by delving deeper in the spirit (chanting, praying, meditating) provides this hypnotic experience and leaves its beings changed forever. I’ve never taken DMT, or other psychedelics, but I have many memories and on-going experiences through Yoga and meditation that put me in that place, some with a higher frequency than others. And when I’ve spoken to friends and family about their experiences, either with natural substances or through spiritual ceremony, of course we all experience it uniquely, but the truth we all reach is the same. Oneness.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EZoOEozN8iA

Let me digress for a moment and talk about drugs. Another divisive topic in our country. We are seemingly determined to remain uptight. If we let go and let live, we’d be so much happier. Anyway, with the loss of Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson, Heath Ledger and copious more we’ve never known through the unhealthy use of man-made drugs, the rich debate stirs on. I am and always will be on the side of natural substances, meaning plants and other elements found on our planet and through very few processes we end up ingesting them. Yes I’m speaking of marijuana and psychedelic mushrooms specifically, and now DMT too. Do I believe you need these substances to achieve this level of connection, truth and bliss? No, of course not, nor do I subscribe to psychedelics as I mentioned above. But make no mistake, I am not against them in the least and know these experiences are very powerful and unique. Why there is a stigma behind these substances and why there is a very obvious divide between drinkers and pill-poppers, and smokers and hallucinators is beyond me. During my college education, I delved deep into the studies of physiology, neurology and biology, during which I took what may be my favorite class of all time and the one whose information has stuck, permanently to my brain and bones, and that class was Psycho-Biological Aspects of Drug Use. A mouth and mind full. What I came away with was the knowledge that alcohol and government constructed medication works against our bodies, seemingly curing some symptoms or issues while creating disease elsewhere. Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, alcohol is poison. It is slowly killing you, destroying your filter systems, brain, heart and tissue.

Do I drink? Socially, yes. Do I get drunk anymore? No. Do I take Advil, antibiotics or other pain meds? Not if I can help it. All of these are depressants and suppressants, with physiological and psychological evidence to show as you take them, your body needs more and more to experience the same result. Alcohol disrupts your sleep, dehydrates you, depresses you mentally and physically, and for some reason I still cannot fathom, it’s our drug of choice. That, caffeine, sugar, fat, and can’t ever forget, MONEY. Somehow many Americans are uncomfortable with the cliché image of hippies high off their asses on shrooms or acid. Understandably, those people can act like utter buffoons and make their fellow man a tad uncomfortable, but for the most part they’re just happy and swaying with the breeze. But watching people fight outside a bar, puke on the street, or cast webs of verbal violence toward others because of their alcohol induced stupor has become not only forgivable, but acceptable. Who stands to profit off either? There’s the answer right there. European settlers came to this country, watched Native Americans worship the animal they were grateful to catch, sheltered under their hide from the rain, using bones as tools and then ceremonially smoking peyote to come together in a celebration of life and gratitude. Who are you to judge that? We are a society that says, you had a bad day, go have a drink. It’s the same damn thing, except these natural substances give you something to take with you besides stinky, painful diarrhea, splitting headaches and multiple apologies. You experience truths, connection, sensation of love and hope, and you don’t forget it. There’s a reason they call marijuana a peace pipe and why most people you know who smoke are fairly happy and laid back. There are exceptions to every rule. There should be a strong application of moderation and balance to everything that gives us sensation and pleasure. Retail therapy, emotional eating, drinking, smoking, and sex are just a few examples of widely abused activities that are healthy when utilized as treats, a ceremony, a method of connection and release, and not as a means of escaping your normal, sober consciousness. Easier said than done, but well within our potential.

I prefer preventive medicine, proven homeopathic remedies that work with our bodies instead of against them, and I prefer to empower myself with knowledge so I can make informed decisions on how to better take care of myself each day. Nutrition, yoga, simple contentment and gratitude, laughter, sex, water and Love. And the recreational puff, puff pass. Judge all you want. Your definition of contentment and personal health will differ, but our focus should be in being healthy and happy everyday, on our own accord, and treating our bodies in a way that we can prevent disease, obesity, heart attacks and cancer, depression and anxiety, work with them when it comes up and not just live unconsciously every single day until inevitably our stressful lives, alcohol and pill use, and chicken mcnugget habit leads to even more disease and the need to pop even more pills. I do not judge your choice, truly. I’ve known family and friends who’ve suffered tremendous illnesses and injuries and in serious need of medical intervention, which improved and many times saved their lives, but instead of fostering a deeper, larger gap between yet another two groups, western and eastern medicine, my desire is to merge the two, work together, just as with science and spirit, both have something valuable to offer. A staggering amount of research has been uncovered and released into the public about medical marijuana (One from a spiritual scientist, One from a book researched and expressed the outcomes of balanced application and use). There’s a good start. Laugh, think freely, eat and love.

I sincerely believe the many controversial issues I’ve brought up here all lead back to the same distance and irreverence, the debate of science and spirituality. The development of the human ego has led to the belief that in order for me to be right, for me to win, to be on top, you must be wrong, a loser at the bottom. Fuck that bullshit. Sometimes a painful reality can only be crossed with fervent truth. And so it requires a staunch “Fuck that”. As I get older and I learn more, I realize how much more I’ve yet to discover and absorb. I know there is far more that I do not know and will never know and this truth does not scare me, does not send me into a church or a bottle of whiskey, it makes me look up into the wondrous sky, engage in thoughtful debates with intelligent minds of differing opinions, it inspires me to get lost staring at a majestic tree, or delving into a nonfiction book or mind-bending piece of art, discovering more about myself and others through yoga, and being open to how much there is to grasp about this planet alone, the life that inhabits earth and finding how much more we are alike than different. We are run by fear, whenever we judge or write off, we reveal more about ourselves and our ignorance. When we are open and humble, we reveal our potential and our essence, Love.

The reason we have so many religions on Earth is because human beings have creative ways of expressing universal truths. Some are based in nothing, are pure fabrications of man and they point to dangerous and unhealthy truths aimed to control, limit and stifle the expansion of knowledge and consciousness. A collective ego leads to more strict applications of what were initially peaceful practices, open and kind. But knowing so many fantastic people of varying faiths and backgrounds, I can accept and attest to the essence and goodness of most, and I think the majority of reasonable people follow these paths to enlightenment and understanding because of a resounding fascination with the unknown. They feel the same pulse and vibrancy I do, a connective thread between us all, the knowledge that each human being is unique and special but none more than the other, and however different our personal expression is, we are conscious souls seeking love and understanding, comprehending space, time, a supremely intelligent and elevated consciousness, that when unattached to materials, to forms, when detached from the fear of death, we can relate and experience, radiate and project out, making our existence and our ticking mortality clock more acceptable; and when exploring both spiritual and scientific research and knowledge, we arm ourselves with the inner and outer reality of immortality, of eternity.

We must transcend and evolve through and beyond where we are now. It might sound frightening, but it’s true. We cannot resist, we must submit and surrender, not as dead fish stuck in the flow, but as a simultaneously knowing and unknowing light, one with the order of the universe. This doesn't fill me with sadness or anxiety. It fuels me, makes me feel empowered. I want to learn. I want to explore. I want to live. I want to breathe with reverence and gratitude, that air is connective, energetic. I want to study and soak in visceral elements, ad then gaze into the boundless starry abyss and imagine how much more there is to discover. The unknown is not haunted or horrendous. It is fascinating, humbling, enigmatic, similar to life on Earth. Let’s acknowledge that the scientist exploring space or molecules, engrossed in his study of the unknown, is just as passionate and eager as our favorite religious leaders and teachers, in a similar path toward connection and truth. There is value in investigating both and infinite possibilities when choosing to respect and affirm the duality of existence, and the exciting areas in between.

Embrace the unknown. There is tremendous beauty and truth in what we cannot see.

Sultan’s Market- A treat for Your Wallet, Your Health and Your Soul.

There’s something about food you can eat while walking, while riding the train, on your way to or from work, as a snack or a meal, on good days or bad, that sets you right back to zero, cleans your slate, warms your belly and heart, and acts as a tool in bringing you back to the moment, crankiness begone, who cares? I’m not talking about the fast food stylings of mystery meat factory chains designed to keep us unhealthy and yet craving more and more. I’m talking about a satisfying, hand-held pouch of nutritious deliciousness (pardon the terrible rhyme) to be enjoyed during any time of year, standing up or sitting down, in stillness or in motion, good mood or bad, alone or in a crowd. For this, any day of the week, I make my way to Sultan’s Market. Back during my time in New York City, I was fortunate enough to attend Yoga teacher training at a remarkable studio in Hell’s Kitchen, an embarrassment of riches in the food department, anything you could need or want within blocks. In the middle of many long days, me and my fellow students would walk a few blocks west to an amazing cafe for falafel pita sandwiches. We’d crowd the literal 260 square feet of space Azuri cafe took up, ordered from the sometimes cranky, sometimes flirtatious man, and walked out with a pita pocket full of the best falafel, hummus, herbs, and spices you’d ever experienced. I left the city and its amazing topography, culture, food and yoga scene to emerge in the midwest, hoping for their own version of the same. I love Chicago. I think it trumps Manhattan in many ways. Some it does not, but what I was very satisfied to find was a fantastic falafel pita sandwich at Sultan’s.

You’ll need to venture to one of two parks. One with a ton of hipsters, large framed glasses, skinny jeans and young artists. That would be Wicker Park. Sultan’s is on West North Avenue, a street with an endless supply of good food, occasionally intersecting with other streets carrying more great food, shops, small businesses and expensive clothing made to look like it’s cheap. The other is a combination of successful, middle-aged parents and college students, also replete with great restaurants and shopping, this time with stores carrying overpriced items that do in fact look expensive along with actually being expensive. That would be Lincoln Park. The LP Sultan’s is on North Clark Street, a long stretch running northwest, cascading from swanky to classy to casual to party. Sultan’s is toward the beginning of a multiple block run of great, valuable cuisine. You can access either through bus, train, bike, cab or foot. Just keep a sharp eye for your fellow man, those narrow curved roads can be dangerous. I want only safe, happy trips to and from Sultan’s.

As you’d imagine since I ranted on about it two paragraphs above, I always order the falafel sandwich. Every. Single. Time. Yes, I’ve ordered other items to accompany my repetitious choice, but never do I neglect to open my mouth as wide as possible and cover the corners of my mouth with hummus, pita and falafel, because it’s that damn good. It satisfies my nostalgia for some NYC middle-eastern while providing an even better atmosphere, and dare I say staff, to round out my experience. Sultan’s is small, with tall ceilings and bright colors, a small buffet table with numerous sides should you need additional toppings. I can vouch 100% for their lentil soup, passed down from Grandma Zafira, for their spinach pies, their meat pies, their egg and cheese pies, their lamb or chicken kebab, lamb or chicken shawerma, their basmati rice, and their impeccable execution of my favorite simple delights, hummus, tabouli, and baba ganuj. Everything tastes fresh, homemade and heavenly.

Beyond the cozy environment, the friendly staff, and the insanely delectable food is the excellent prices. Falafel sandwich will fill most adults with normal appetites. It’s $3.75. I can’t even fathom how they manage to profit enough, given their most expensive item is Mediterranean style tilapia with seasoned tomatoes, onions and lemon for $7. A small soup is $2, large is a measly $3, so I walk out of there spending around 8 dollars (almost as worthless as monopoly money at this point) with tip and feeling satiated, healthy, comforted and energized. My dream is they open one near my apartment soon. For now, I’ll enjoy what have been some amazing days here in the windy city. They deliver and of course offer carry-out, in the event you're unable to make it to either location. Hope you can experience it.

I love a good burger or hot dog, but given our country is made up of immigrants from many other continents, I think America’s best offering is the diverse sampling of ethnic inspiration. Regardless how different and special we may feel, we have much more in common with our fellow human beings than we choose to acknowledge. And we all eat. Each person’s history has carved out a unique appreciation and execution of culinary influences and it is a great start to bridging the mind-created gaps by eating a variety of foods. The key to opening your heart is through the door of your stomach. Open wide.

Be open, in mind, heart, body and taste buds. Spend a little, get a lot. Enjoy.

Subliminal Thoughtfulness

How many roses does it take to earn the next 364 days off?Or at least until your birthday. The day of your upcoming promotion. The day you’re fed up with commotion. Or the lack thereof. The dearth of real love. Is that when I buy you something? To remind you to stay, settle, remain. What size diamond gets me out of thoughtfulness? How much must I spend to defray the awfulness? Flowers die and smell in front of your face but they’re $50 today. I love you 50 dollars worth today. How much do you love me today? Power tool? A round of golf? A homemade gourmet meal? Sex? With the lights on? Oral? What must I do to earn this shiny thing the commercial reminded you to buy? Sky writing? Public display of foolishness? Proclamation of love outward? Will you still love me tomorrow? Will you give in to me? Sin with me? Do anything to win with me? Must you love me in fragments of time? With the right amount of wine. Outside this structure it’s back to normal. Back to reality. Back to forgetfulness. Hell and sexuality. Where you earn your time with me. Status quo blends with mediocrity. It’s not about who you are, but what you give. How you play the game. Relegated to the same. Same three days a year with contrived adoration. An exchange program. Prostitute and pimp. You spend money for. One evening with a whore. 360 with a lady. You got what you gave me. I withheld. You delivered. I gave. You took. Two crooks. Cooked the books. Love is unrecognizable. Stripped away. Wrecked with decay. Defined by profit. 80 billion dollars a year. To prove what? We’re all sluts. Love is not pink. Gold. Brazen. Bold. Its quiet. Personal. Consistent. Loyal. Invigorating. But no one has to know. Uplifting. Without a need to show. Giving. From each side of the row. Fuck propriety. Love defined by society. A culture of need. Sometimes greed. Me. Me. Me. What do you see? Someone with nothing to give. But willingness to live. To survive and thrive. Together. Forever. Come get rowdy. Loud with me. Make noise in the crowd with me. Create a new kind of Love. Everyday. In our own way. Keep the flowers in the ground. The diamonds in the soil. Love with a new sound. Depth can never spoil. You’ll come home and we’ll play. Like any other day. A day full of wonder. Pleasure. Timelessness. Commercial-less. Nothing forced. Treasure. The heat of our breath. The rhythm of each heart. The gift is each moment together. One with all who love, never apart.

Get Above and Beyond at Uncommon Ground

Organic. Local. Natural. Sustainable. These are all widely used buzz words in marketing campaigns and grocery store chains. Somehow the 50 scientific ingredients utilized in the process of making what appears to be a cheese flavored cracker can also be organic. Who knew? I call bullshit. You’re not going to dupe me with your prototypical advertising rhetoric, not for food, not for clothing, not for yoga, not for anything. I can definitely admit when a product or store backs up their sales tactics by walking the walk, I’m just not so easily bought, and you shouldn’t be either. What a big city does well, at least what Chicago and the others I’ve experienced lives well, is making genuinely healthy, delicious food grown, bought and then made right in your environment. I do not concern myself with where exactly this farm or garden is located (this isn’t an episode of Portlandia, man they nailed that demographic perfectly), precisely how large the area is the animals can roam, how old it was when it died and how long it’s been dead before entering my very live body. It may sound cold. It’s not. I love animals, have tremendous amount of compassion for them, and am a long-time flexitarian. I cry at those ridiculous Sarah McLachlan commercials, I’m not dead inside! I just don’t delude myself into thinking those facts matter or that they’re accurate. If you are, you can receive that information while you enjoy a seasonal dish at Uncommon Ground. It’s been 19 months and nearly 7 full seasons and somehow I’ve neglected to write about UG. I’ve been there nearly 10 times now, had a great experience and even better meal every single time. It’s right near my apartment, which is fortunate and also dangerous, as realistically I should spend less money eating out and choose instead to eat in. But who fucking wants to do that? Not me. This is my work. Food is my muse and someday, someone will put a dollar amount on these words and I will turn in my receipts to the IRS for a full refund. Until then, I will continue to eat most meals at home, some at my favorite cheap spots, and some at the cool kid restaurants, where people with money and people who somehow manage without it go, where a beer is $6 and it’s organic, and I’ve never heard of it, and I’m sitting near a crackling fire, and there’s some genuinely cool looking light fixtures, and they actually make gnocchi (enyokee white people, not noki, just a lesson in pronunciation for your infotainment), and other special treats not carried by most restaurants. It’s gooooood, you should go.

Uncommon Ground’s friendly green sign lies humbly at the corner of Clark and Grace just north of Drunkville, USA, technically in Lakeview. It’s a little big for Wicker Park, little small for downtown, expensive enough for Lincoln Park moms to make the trek and inexpensive enough for other north-sider folk to ride the redline down. Despite my light-heartedness here, I genuinely can’t recommend it enough. The exposed brick, wood floors and various odd shaped rooms gift U.G. the charm of an old house, with modern spins on comfort food sealing the deal. They eat/feed as if they live in Europe, or that crazy country California, seasonally. What a notion, eating food that’s currently growing prosperously, during this particular time of year, in this climate. Forcing myself to eat numerous fruits and vegetables that taste like mealy, textured water does not equate to eating a balanced, healthy diet. It’s a lot of effort to figure out what’s in season where you are at this time but I’d be willing to bet there’s a handy chart out there, or a million books with words about nutrition. Or you can do what I do. Every season, make it a point to eat one breakfast, one lunch and one dinner meal at Uncommon Ground. Study the menu, notice how savory and succulent everything tastes, take actual notes or mental notes and then stock your fridge with similar ingredients. The rest is up to you. I’m not Sandra Lee.

Back to the intention of this article, yes there is one, no it’s not obvious, sometimes you have to work for what you get. And this shit is free. You get what you pay for. The best things in life are free. Wait...yeah, that’s right. Anyway, geez, Uncommon Ground has friendly, knowledgable staff, with senses of humor and personalities and everything. Their mixed drinks are awesome. I’m not much of a drinker, especially liquor drinks, but their Basilica Limon is so refreshing and their bloody mary is lick the inside of the glass worthy. They’re currently combining forces with a Chicago initiative, for every Agripolitan (a new eco drink) they sell, 50 cents goes toward the Chicago Rarities Orchard Project. They have great beer and wine as well, and unlimited glasses of Lake Michigan’s finest. The more you drink, the better the cause. Bottoms up.

important than the atmosphere, cocktails, projects or even staff, is the extraordinary taste and execution of every single appetizer, soup, salad, side, entree and dessert. Regardless if something is your taste or not, you can rest assured the item is fresh, high quality, cared for and then made to taste as fantastic as possible, blending unusual ingredients in the most creative and inspiring ways, leaving you pleased and also perplexed, what the hell is this and why is this the first time I’ve ever had it?! I’ve had meat dishes, vegetarian entrees, cheese dips, sweet treats and savory delights. I wish I could recall and somehow share in every meal I’ve had, through any season, but you’ll just have to experience it for yourself. Last week, after a sweaty yoga class, we all went comfortably dressed and stinky to a well lit corner in one of Uncommon Ground’s many cozy four tops. It was brunch, which comes with it’s very own menu and very own demographic, a diverse one at that. I ordered their take of biscuits n gravy, two eggs over easy laying so beautifully over said B&G, dusted with crumbled bacon and scallions, served with breakfast potatoes. My partner in sharing was one of my favorite fellow travelers and foodies, always willing to grab something sweet so we can share each other’s and have a balanced experience. She got the pomegranate and mascarpone french toast. I can still feel those tangy seeds bursting in my mouth. Wash it down with a PB&J latte. Oh yes, that’s a thing. And it is damn good, like everything else.

As if all this wasn’t enough, Uncommon has become somewhat of a home and platform for bourgeoning artists. They hang pieces of art made by local artists. They don’t stay long because U.G. has an eye for genuine talent. I’ve been fortunate to experience a few of their open mic nights, showcasing some of the most beautiful voices, instrumentals and all around truth I’ve ever seen. To watch these human beings be so vulnerable and honest, and feel so at home on the very modest stage with a supportive crowd is uplifting and encouraging. They have open mics nearly every night of the week, no obligation to eat or even spend a lot, just be a warm member in the environment. These artists are all worthy of your attention, including those working hard in Uncommon Ground’s bustling kitchen.

I believe deep within my gut that real food, that was once alive, from the ground and trees, is the greatest form of medicine, equipping us to not only live a fun, balanced life, but a healthy one as well; where we feel energetic everyday and sleep well at night, armed to deflect any negativity that comes our mind, body, and heart’s way. Take the energy you use in opening a can, jar, box or container and wash some produce. Your digestive system, and much more, will thank you.

Uncommon Ground is a place to absorb nutrition through every sense. Open up.

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Optimism is a Choice. Declare it.

If I’ve learned anything at all, it’s that my life has been a series of self-fulfilling prophecies. When I believed love was bullshit, relationships were wastes of time and most people were assholes, guess what? That’s precisely what I experienced. I had no right. To watch many members of my family love one another is akin to listening to the hypnotic and tear-extracting sounds of an impeccable symphony. They love with reckless abandon and unrelenting loyalty. And so do I. Being analytical and pragmatic, even as a damn child, I learned from multiple divorces and negative displays of love that my heart was too fragile to be fucked with, and so I let it shrink, like the Grinch, narrowing my scope and understanding, limiting my experiences and ultimately, myself. The truth of the matter is, I’m not wrong. There’s endless corroborative evidence (a nearly 60% divorce rate, for example) to support my cynicism, but this world is exponentially complex and expansive, how could I ever pigeon hull every human being into one category, or even most of them? Or eliminate the possibility for people and circumstances to change? I can’t. It’s wrong, foolish and keeps me in a cyclone of crankiness. What fun. I’ve learned to feel grateful first, for the simple and the magnificent, and everything blossomed from there. I spent roughly 4 years studying the depths of Nature vs. Nurture. I’ve spent subsequent years with less emphasis on the intellectual pursuit and more with the lessons bestowed by living. I believe wholeheartedly that the way we choose to nurture ourselves once we are responsible for our own growth is entirely indicative of our happiness and success level. My parents did their best job, despite divorces or mistakes, they loved us strongly, provided a pretty healthy genetic make-up to take care of the nature side, and then raised us in a stable, positive environment with valuable life lessons to round out the nurture aspects. Having a practical based brain and then being raised by very logical people fostered an entrenched sense of realism, with little emphasis on imagination or unknown manifestations. That was just me. This is not to disparage any family member; they’re compassionate, humorous people who gave me a love of food, travel and comedy, not to mention their belief I could do anything and the mental fortitude to take care of myself; however, there’s at times an imbalance because I made the poor decision to follow my strengths, opting out of anything that didn’t come natural to me, and when you have a hyperactive left hemisphere and choose then to squelch any right hemisphere thoughts or activities, you end up lop-sided.

Because of the way I decided to develop my brain, I was very detail oriented, athletically inclined, not afraid to say no, too afraid to say yes, and hung up on the past and anxious about the future. I had no outlet and no capacity to know I needed one. I truly grew up believing the bullshit that you are either a glass is half-full or glass is half-empty kind of person, with little credence given to the vast grey areas between or understanding of choice, that I could foster optimism, I wasn’t just born with or without it. I’d convince myself I was half-full but through various negative experiences, recognized my tendency toward the half-empty as a defense mechanism.

Because my parents got married and had children (child, me) young and inevitably got divorced, I used to carry judgment and disdain toward people who chose to engage in the same behavior. It’s none of my business. They are not my parents and although I do believe maturity will make you a better parent and there’s value in spending your twenties learning, exploring, dreaming; there’s just as much in taking on the responsibilities of a parent and doing that well. That’s just one of many examples where I see behavior repeated by someone I barely know that clearly had a caustic effect on me in my youth, and my pessimism led me toward judgment and ridicule, often sarcastic encounters, subsequent self-criticism and burned bridges. Self-fulfilling prophesy. I saw negativity or the potential for it, and I made it so. What a god damn bummer.

People who know me may attest to my kindness and loyalty, the fun side of my sense of humor and my very intense passion for things that I care about; and while I’d love to sit here and toot my own horn or give myself a break, I have to share honestly the facets of who I used to be, so I can better articulate my and other’s progress. I’m sure there are still people who’ve rubbed the old me (sometimes I call her Dani, and many people I love still call me this as she’s still apart of me, just a lesser used Danielle. Danielle 2.0) the wrong way, exhibited such repugnant and cancerous patterns that I’ve written them off or created my own invisible barriers to prevent their entry. In some instances this is wise, because those specific individuals may be hell-bent on living from their worst selves and it is not your or my responsibility to take the brunt of their bullshit and hope they’ll improve, or even fantasize our presence will do that for them, but you can choose to be optimistic, tactful in your interactions rather than defensive like I used to be, and feel compassion toward what is probably a very sad, unhealthy human being. And then there’s the cases where your/my built up walls are out of habit and keeping someone at a distance is only preventing you both from improvement, both together and apart. This is often the case with parents, family, old friends, or even co-workers. It takes a wise soul to delineate between the two. An easy way to distinguish is how you feel in their presence. Does this person bring the best or worst out of you? If it’s the worst, as some people try their damnedest to do to me, without knowing it of course; then you must wish them well and move on, painful as it may be.

Being the major work in progress I am, flawed and at times frustrated by what I don’t know or what I haven’t changed, I have to remain positive and hopeful about others and myself. The most freeing mechanism is my breath. When I feel a surge of discomfort, adversity or anxiety, whether it’s justified or in my head, instead of reacting inwardly or outwardly, I breathe. That creates space in my mind to choose my thoughts, which will then affect my emotional response, which will then be cast outward as my attitude and tone, which will then affect my interactions with the world around me. I discuss this often in Yoga, choosing the energy we bring into the room, and I’m finding the power to choose lies in just one moment and if I make the benevolent choice, the selection that is kind to me and others, that is also a self-fulfilling prophecy, compounded to an excessive level compared to the path of pessimism. The choice lies in every moment, not only in the big life decisions, but in the day-to-day. So, through the space that has been created with my breath, as simple and easy as that sounds, I’ve learned to alter my state of mind, my relative openness to the world around me. Instead of thinking before I speak, I breathe before I think, and then I think before I speak. And it’s working. It’s not finished, nor will it ever be, but it’s on the up-swing. When I encounter the disingenuous or antagonistic, it is then to deploy the parachute of optimism. I feel lighter. Negative people or circumstances just flow through, in one ear and out the other. I don’t enjoy them, nor would I choose to spend copious amounts of time or energy on them, but I choose merely not to carry them at all. My ego’s former need to put people in their place has surpassed, for the most part, and now armed with the responsibility of making my and potentially other’s days better, I’m certainly not going to let some cranky person weigh me down, choosing to see how the world is shit through their eyes, but rather looking to the kind soul next to them, who is eager and thoughtful and open to a better day. See into the light of that soul, not into the darkness of the other.

It’s easy to believe all goodness lies within our bubble and that bubble alone, and while it’s important to feel grateful for the good in your life and to surround yourself with it, feeling everything outside that box is somehow inadequate, negative or not worth your time leads down a winding path to pessimism and further self-fulfilling prophecies. Judging by the purely magnificent human beings I’ve met in the past couple years, I know the bubble theory is untrue. There is an abundance of goodness and greatness and I’d love to be privy to it all, to absorb anything and anyone I can, and hope to improve myself through expanding my circle. Having a small web of trustworthy, encouraging people will only champion a better you, but making room in your life for new, interesting people with varying perspectives and ideas will broaden you even further. Again, it’s a balancing game, and it is up to your wisdom to discern who you’ll allow into your bubble. You can at once be aware of individuals and situations that carry the potential to bring darkness while believing in your gut there is enough light in you and in the world to wash away the heavy. Allowing myself to be proved wrong keeps the progression train chugging, and simultaneously releasing any fixation with anything or anyone detrimental to that progression has led to a more authentically elated internal state.

It is very easy and extremely addictive to complain. Sure, we need to let out steam, vent our frustrations and find some solace in challenging encounters, but to the extent we take it is certainly questionable. Why, when we dislike someone, when they’ve wronged us in some way, is it then necessary to spread that negativity onto others, making others feel obligated not to like that person too? I’ve certainly been guilty of this in the past, and what’s most troubling is the degree to which I let these events stick with me, for fucking ever it seemed, not holding a grudge necessarily but definitely not letting go either. The ego needs constant validation, disagree with it and you may see tears, or fists, and the most empowering moments I’ve had is when I see my own ego at work, I watch the word-vomit spill out of my mouth and I watch as my self-fulfilling prophecies and the way I choose to nurture my own life come to fruition yet again. There’s a way to stand up for what’s right and give someone a firm, non-emotional no, a ‘present no’ as Eckhart Tolle calls it, without then perpetuating and exaggerating that event so it exists in you forever, becoming a permanent fixture in your operative state. What a colossal waste of time and energy. Imagine, if you carried and shared all the positive, enthusiastic, passionate and joyful experiences you’ve had, and during the bad days you choose to remind yourself of the good rather than letting the bleak tropical storm turn into a hurricane, choosing again optimism over pessimism, taking full responsibility for how you experience life and how you carry it on. Can you fathom how the world could open up for you? Can you embrace the unknown and be open to your and other’s possibilities? I certainly hope so.

I don’t believe optimism is an easy choice, but I do believe it’s the choice of wise, successful and genuinely happy human beings. We have this incredible facility to choose, to be hyper aware of our own existence and starkly aware of our impending death, that this knowledge can either drive us to fear, carving out even smaller boxes or circles, to a life of mediocrity and settling; or to sheer wonder, exploration, pleasure, learning, and a very heightened, engaged living. Living with presence, a relinquishing of control over the future but an omnipresent hope and exhilaration for what may come your way. When you begin to see the potential of your own mind and heart, the access to light and goodness at magnifies and expands, becoming its own self-fulfilling prophecy. Travel light, bringing emotional baggage with you around every corner only weighs you down and diminishes your light. See light, acknowledging the light in others only serves to reflect that light back to you, propagating your own goodness. Be light, making conscious decisions out of presence, making each moment better, will only make you more timeless, effervescent.

Ponder the impression you want to leave, not only on those you care deeply for, but those who’ll never know your name, only the lingering effect your energy left on them. Choose light and then brighten and spread it, no sense in hoarding, it’s not doing a number on your electric bill; if anything, your mind, body and heart will thank you, as will the countless souls left in your warm, vivacious wake. Take a look at this incredible short video created by futurist and optimist, Jason Silva. I know very little about this man, but what I see and experience leaves a lasting impression. His enthusiasm and yes, his light, are tangible and infectious, and his level of optimism only inspires me to soar to those heights, to believe in the innate goodness within myself, that same goodness that’s alive in You. I am ecstatic and energized for whatever and whoever rolls my way. I’m grateful years of skepticism and self-awareness led to my slow and gradual awakening, the truth that life is whatever the hell you can fathom it to be, my potential is only limited and thwarted by me, same for you, and whatever we believe it to be, will be.

http://vimeo.com/29938326

No one is breathing, thinking, absorbing or acting for you. You make small and large choices every single day, starting with each breath. Make the challenging decision and choose optimism. Choose light.

What it is to be Sexy: The Era of Gosling and Fassbender

If you've changed my diapers or simply do not enjoy reading, watching, or listening to discussions or showcases of sexuality, feel free to stop reading. No offense intended or taken, although I do wish you a full life, open to all pleasures, accepting of all facets making an enjoyable existence. This article is much more than it appears on the surface, but it does involve sexuality and sex appeal. Virgins and tight asses beware :) Intelligence is sexy. Discipline is sexy. Creativity is sexy. Depth is sexy. The characterization of one with sex appeal can be dissected and described a million different ways. It’s a matter of opinion and therefore holds little value in truth, but as the amount of credible opinions increase over time, an opinion then blends with fact. Empirically, Ryan Gosling and Michael Fassbender are sexy. The apparent uproar over this year’s meaningless bestowing of Sexiest Man Alive to Bradley Cooper (according to People Magazine) over Gosling shows just what weight these opinions can carry. Sure, they’re moot and unnecessary in the grand scheme, but given the nature of sexuality and the importance of it in not only society but life itself showcases the truth behind a specific culture. Who we find sexy and who we find attractive are two very different things. Certainly Mr. Sexiest Man Alive 1985 won’t be showing up again anytime soon (Mel Gibson) and only time will tell how Mr. Cooper will fare. For arguments sake, what makes someone sexy in our culture is mystery, talent, strength and goodness. Let’s break these down.

have two examples where an air of mystery is exhibited and fostered in film. Drive and Shame. Both are quieter films, dealing with some seriously violent, negative and unfortunate circumstances involving characters with secrets and depth we cannot imagine. Both are led by Gosling and Fassbender, respectively; and both have limited dialogue but an array of expression in tone, mannerisms, action and speak volumes where there is no sound. In both, despite dealing with extreme character flaws, the leading men take you through their story, convince you to accept and have compassion for them as flawed human beings while making some truly deplorable decisions. Both the characters and the actors do not lay everything out for you. Like the adult you are, you must read between the lines and come to many of your own conclusions. Beyond Fassbenders’ third leg (George Clooney joked he could play golf with his hands tied behind his back. Can’t say I’d look away if that actually happened), he has what any intriguing human being carries, life, soul and depth behind his eyes. You have no idea what or why, but you want to know more. Both men make you blush, sweat, laugh and cry, like a good lover should. Both have great senses of humor offscreen while remaining quite private and low-key, living with a brewing intensity, all adding to the enigma. I want more of both.

I’d be willing to guess 75% (probably more) of talent is wasted in this world. For any number of reasons one might go through life without recognizing their own gift, thus being unable to foster it, and give it away. What makes talent so sexy and appealing is not simply the gift, but the dedication and work behind it. I’m fortunate to be friends with some immensely talented people. Dancers, musicians, painters, graphic artists, athletes, successful business men and women, etc. I don’t watch them perform or gaze at their work and think “wow, they’re so lucky, what a gift,” I think “my god, what finding your purpose and busting your ass can do.” Sure, stage presence, artistry, a body morphed by discipline are all very physically attractive things, but the perseverance and passion behind the eyes, the audacity and courage to hone your talent and pursue it and then to exhibit it so beautifully, is so god damn hot. Watching actors be chameleons, like Gosling and Fassbender clearly are, just adds another tasty ingredient and is another reason they’re successful now and without doubt will be only improving down the road.

Strength. The word probably conjures a slew of images and examples. You might think of a gigantic man pulling an 18 wheeler, or a faceless body with ripped muscles, or an image of a person with cancer, handling their illness with integrity and grace. From what I’ve observed, it takes strength to live a very balanced life, to treat your body and mind like the machines they are while maintaining a semblance of humility and grace in order to carry it off. It’s not necessarily the way they wear their clothes or the way they look in the shower (although the pure animal magnetism when seeing a strong, broad man with a distinct voice and mannerisms, move in the way they do, like a lioness in observation of the males’ power and force, triggers a very primal center in my brain, and every instinct says MATE, make powerful offspring with THAT!), but how they carry that masculine frame, how they value their health, and the inner strength required to build the physicality, to keep bettering and challenging their work, and how they live in harmony between pride and confidence, style and substance, notoriety and privacy. I have nothing against Robert Pattinson or Justin Bieber, but they’ve yet to exhibit both the raw and the fine-tuned fusion of intelligence, talent, humor, beauty, wisdom and mystery, as the American and Brit I’m writing about here. Not even close. Here’s where goodness comes in.

I used to be very attracted to Tiger Woods, not that I don’t find him physically attractive anymore, and not that I was shocked when his scandal broke a couple years ago, but to me the discipline and strength he personified beautifully on the golf course was seemingly nonexistent in his personal life, and that shows inherent weakness. It takes genuine fortitude and a secure human being to live with integrity, to garner their own success while carrying an open heart, following their bliss, treating others well and living as little from your ego as possible. I have no judgments toward anyone’s behavior in the bedroom, truly, have fun, have one, have all, but don’t be a douche and lie to your wife while you’re banging hoards of mediocre people. Those who live life with a facade are not strong at all. They may have walls built from years of self-preservation and I certainly hope those people move past that and have the courage to live openly in all facets of their lives; but until then, you are not sexy. You can dress the part, act the part, showcase your hot body, spectacular talent and external success til the cows come home, but it’s still phony, it’s still a lie, and liars aren’t sexy, except to equally unconscious people. Goodness is what rounds out a total package. Goodness is there on the darkest days when you’re injured, or uninspired, at home with your dogs. I never assumed Tiger Woods was good, I just knew he was great. He’d perfected many things, while neglecting others. Through various stories you can read in Vanity Fair, GQ or any magazine with real journalism and in-depth interviews (not tabloids, not E! online), you’ll get a sense for Gosling and Fassbender’s humility and groundedness, their cheeky sense of humor, the love of their craft and appreciation for where they came from. Gosling takes his mom to award shows. Aw. None of us knows for sure whether their goodness is sincere, but what I’ve seen so far, it doesn’t seem fake or forced, it just is. And that’s sexy.

It seems the best films I’ve seen this year have included these two men. I recently saw A Dangerous Method, a David Cronenberg film starring Fassbender as Dr. Carl Jung, following Freud and the advent of psychoanalysis. It was driven by century old theories of sexual neurosis, rich with dialogue and propelled strongly by it’s lead. One of the most courageous films of the year involves Fassbender’s role in Shame, a successful late 30’s man living in Manhattan and suffering deeply with sex addiction, genuinely, not in the Jesse James/Tiger Woods I can’t stop cheating on my wife disease, but a raw portrayal of a lonely man without the facility and openness to love, so he screws everything and everyone, even men during times of desperation. Fassbender played the role on a razor’s edge, with equal parts control and defensiveness, charm and desperation, potential and hopelessness. Gosling carried a similar disposition in Drive, holding in secrets and engaging in very questionable behavior. That same line was drawn beautifully in George Clooney’s (another timeless and pervasively sexy man) film Ides of March. Gosling was stellar in that role as well. I’d watch Crazy, Stupid, Love on mute, for many reasons, one in particular. I’m not a comic book person, a trilogy or sequel follower (haven’t seen all Star Wars, Lord of Rings, Spiderman, Superman, etc. not really interested), but X-Men: First Class knocked my socks off. Just like in Inglorious Basterds, Fassbender is a scene stealer here. They’ve both proved their dedication and craftsmanship in films like Hunger and Lars and the Real Girl, and we’ll look forward to continued brilliance in Prometheus and Only God Forgives, but for now, we’ll just will ourselves to dream about them in the whee hours of the night.

Note: Carrie Mulligan is in both of these fantastic films. She is a very talented beauty, very sexy in her own right.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24cjqfVv1fs

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KBiOF3y1W0Y&feature=related

You may be in a relationship, as am I, but you’re not dead, and neither am I. The very descriptions I used to prove Gosling and Fassbender’s sexual magnetism is living and breathing in many people I know, men and women, and the one I’m lucky to sleep next to every night. There are many talented, strong, intelligent and beautiful women, famous or not, who are living truthfully, devoted and passionate, genuinely sexy human beings. I’m encouraged and inspired, just without the urge to surge, but understand why men do. I’ve been drawn to men since I was young, never being attracted to men my age and hardly wasting time on the Justin Bieber types. Give me an interesting, clever, open, thoughtful and strong man and I’m a happy woman. I enjoy having the open dialogue with the very sexy man in my life, neither of us being threatened by a harmless crush but totally agreeing in what makes someone sexy. Sex is fun, seeing others embrace this makes life an enjoyable ride, so to speak. Enjoy your crushes in a respectful way and challenge your standards at what constitutes sexy. And if you’re unsure, check out Ryan Gosling or Michael Fassbender in anything. Hopefully they’ll make some ironic sexy man film together someday, or maybe that will just exist in my dreams.

No need to be uptight. We were born naked. Learning to embrace primal urges while finding balance is a key to a good life. Life full of delicious foods, mental dexterity, physical challenges, high brow humor and down n’ dirty romps in the sack, with a sexy partner, or by yourself. Happy humping everyone.

Are You a Stage-5 Clinger or a Day Dreamer?

The past is valuable because you learn. The stove is hot. Next time, I will not touch it as I will burn myself, as I just did. See, what a beautiful lesson the past has now taught us, and guess what? I haven’t burnt myself on the stove for a while; so yeah, feeling good. Learning to surrender the emotional scars, learning from your own mistakes while not dwelling in guilt and self-punishment, now that’s another story. All I can say is when we are trapped in the past, we repeat the past, over and over again ad nauseam. It’s not cute. Nor is it helpful or enlightening. It’s repetitive and banal until it becomes predictable and damaging. I look back on the men I used to be drawn to, or the one I let myself fall effortlessly into the void too many times, and I smirk and roll my eyes. What a dumbass. But you see? It’s just that kind of internal rhetoric that does not serve me NOW, the only fucking reality there ever is. At one point, I became fed up with my own patterns and I (with the support and encouragement of my mom and friends of course, an important tool) yanked myself out of it and truly moved on. That was just men. One sliver of what’s turning out to be a delicious savory sweet pie. Now I struggle with self-doubt, less now that I’ve pursued teaching and writing truthfully with commitment, but I’ve been absorbing courage from some pretty incredible friends and colleagues, who live wildly open, naked, raw, and while I find it important to be that friend for others, who cheers them on, supports their expression and is proud of their ballsiness, I need to turn that good friend in me and direct it inward, because no one will get me to do anything but me, the good me that says I’m worthy just as others are, that just because there are streams of talent and beauty being showcased there is no necessity for comparison. Expression is expression and regardless if I blow people away, the release of letting something out nourishes me beyond what any purchase, drug or fear could placate. The bad me says it’s self-indulgent, attention seeking and nothing life-changing so why bother? Because I wouldn’t let some asshole tell me I’m worthless and shitty so why would I tell that to myself? It’s astonishing how much we can get in our own way, basically because we’re choosing fear over love. Think about the decisions you’ve made, big and small, day-to-day in how you engage with others to getting up on that dance floor or making that big speech, falling in love, reaching out when in need, whatever those triggers are for you. How often have you stopped yourself from speaking, acting, crying, believing, loving? We can change this. Patience, practice and presence.

So I’d say my fears and my sense of time, derived by my complex mind, have allowed me to slowly evolve and learn, but I’ve managed to keep some childhood patterns, the one where I won’t try something unless I know I’ll be good at it (WTF is that?! What arrogant asshole assumes they’ll be good at everything? Clearly everything worth doing is challenging. I’m learning.), meaning I must show potential in this or why am I here? The answer is growth. That’s why I’m here and while I feel it’s helpful and important to follow your strengths so you can give whatever gift is inside outwardly, we mustn't shy away from attempting things that scare us because of some hypothetical bullshit, scaredy cat attitude, where we project potential scenarios into the future, predicting embarrassment and ridicule, instead of reality where human beings are kind and supportive and appreciate vulnerability and someone’s willingness to fall down and get back up.

So the past is repeated and the future is rehearsed. Boy was I a dreamer as a child. I’m pretty sure I had insomnia. I was fine, healthy, functioned adequately, but I did spend many nights awake just pondering, wondering, dreaming, and while that’s fun and imagination should certainly be fostered, I fell into a pattern (conditioned by my past) to focus my attention and enthusiasm at achievements or events arriving at a later day. So, I predicated my happiness on something happening down the line. I’d make myself sick from excitement or stress (one might call this anxiety) and I look back at periods of my life as if they’re a blur, because I spent so much of that time trapped in my mind, reliving the past, anticipating the future. I’m starting to sound like a broken record to my yoga students because I mention this often, but everything I’ve learned and gathered in my life thus far, has led me to this truth. This may be the only thing I know for sure. Happiness exists, joy animates, enthusiasm projects, and acceptance takes residence in this very moment, this fraction of a second, Now, and nowhere else. It’s not over there, it’s not marked on your calendar, it’s not within another human being or animal, not at your apartment, or your workspace, not when you can practice your hobby, or have that drink or puff. It’s not when you graduate, when you get the promotion or raise, that new car, new bag, new stuff, new look, new friend, new romance, or the next new magical gift that will then turn the light inside you ON. It’s right fucking here, right fucking now. Surrender to that, and your outward expression and experience in this measly little lifetime we’re given will become so vast and spacious, you’ll be overwhelmed. You may enjoy the aforementioned things, derive pleasure, but these are merely bonuses, facets to a rich existence, but not the path to long-term contentment or internal success.

I still find myself questioning decisions I’ve made or will make. I find myself disheartened and perplexed by human beings constantly, those I have to deal with on a consistent basis, and while I have days where I just feel like shit, I feel low, I feel like no one gives a fuck, I’m able to pull myself out of that mind-induced slump quicker, knowing that I give a fuck and there is a short list of quality human beings and a few animals who care too. This world is consuming, moving rapidly but progressing slowly, and it’s imperative that your personal sense of time and your stage in this evolutionary process is completely removed from the world’s time, clock time, psychological time. Use the past as a tool to remind yourself you’ve repeated a pattern, get to know your inner monologue and adjust it to uplift yourself. Use the future as fuel to fire up the present, because the better you are in THIS moment, imagine the result in the next. Use time as a tool, not a crutch. Surrender the unknown, what you cannot control and what you cannot change and bring more vibrancy to learning, using what you do know, regulate what you can from within and let it bleed out.

Surrendering attachment, truly letting go is a gradual, inside out process. Giving up caffeine or cigarettes will only eliminate a fraction of the problem, until our lingering resentment and soured expectations conjure up a new vice to diminish the negative web our minds are spinning. Sure we need to let go of the past, forgive ourselves and others, recognize what’s done is done, the bell can never be un-rung, but the real strength is in surrendering each moment, accepting yourself and your extenuating circumstances AS THEY ARE, not as they could have been or how they should be or how you hope they’ll be, but accepting responsibility to control your reactions, your perceptions and ultimately your attachment to whatever IS. Eckhart Tolle, Joseph Campbell and many brilliant Yogis and philosophers explain and personify this beautifully. It’s beyond even the most beautifully written words. It is a truth you must infuse into your way of living and being. It’s not to be labeled. It’s not a noun, verb or adverb. It just Is. You just Are.

Can you continue to blossom as the external dares you to shrink? Can you give yourself warmth and light from the very essence you are when the thunderous darkness of your ego and it’s stubborn attachment to the unimportant aim to envelop you, leaving you cold and confused, even more steeped in fear, feeling even more alone. You can start very easily by accepting your mind and body as it is right now, there’s nothing you can do in this moment to change it or manipulate it so you somehow perceive it positively. Let go of comparison, of judgment, of expectation and just embrace yourself and the Now. Notice even within a challenging task how surrender feels. The more you fidget, grimace, or clench (physically and mentally), the more difficult and frustrating it will be. What you resist persists. It is difficult because our minds are cunning, clever little bastards and they seek to retell the same boring sob story over and over again. Just begin by bringing awareness to whatever your patterns are, wherever your tendency toward control manifests and through that awareness, a space will open up for wisdom, kindness, acceptance and release. Let go.

You deserve the most vibrant life a human can live. Believe it and Be it. Turn ON the light the only way possible, yourself, without worry for other’s brightness, your genuine example of acceptance and enthusiasm for this moment is bound to rub off positively on someone. And if not, you’ve got You and that’s one hell of an accomplishment. Those of us working to find more presence and light within can serve others by bouncing off ideas, giving support, and when in doubt, thinking and acting out of compassion. I am merely a work in progress, but I’m sincerely jazzed and buzzing from the challenge that is living a remarkable life, aiming to brighten my and someone else’s day and find that more darkness has faded away.

No matter the weather, no matter your upbringing, your socio-economic status, your religious or political affiliations, your sexual preferences, your grade point average, your color, your size, your current job or your dream job, your perceived status or reputation, the details of your past or projections for the future, You can choose to turn on that light, operate from your best essence and surrender to what is, to embrace here and now, proactively choose Love instead of reactively choosing fear. Surrender is under-valued and connotes images of a white flag and of loss. Bullshit. It takes strength to let go. You're a bright shiny winner.

You ARE Life. Stop wasting your energy and Live.