You are currently browsing the monthly archive for June 2015.

It was not a perfect week.  But when I think of things of goodness I was blessed with, I cannot come up with one.

For that I am very grateful.

I’m grateful for the mantra that’s popped up in my head. Let go of what no longer serves you. It is life changing.

…for the conversation full of synchronicity which illustrated how nothing is random.  Sometimes we are messengers for each other, delivering words we didn’t know we needed to hear.

…for the nights of rosé. It’s become my water of the summer.


…for the signs of love that were everywhere.


…for this.


May goodness find you everywhere you turn.

xo, with goodness and grace.


When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.  –Rumi

it’s the simple things.

I do my best to go for a walk at lunch time during the week. I think it’s important to have moments in the day that give you a break. All that thinking and doing can be exhausting. I treasure moments when I can just be.

As I meandered down a new street, I came upon a park. Children played with their friends, carefree but carefully watched by their nannies. There was the giddiness of the beginning of summer in the air.

Joy. It was everywhere.

I noticed a sign. Dog-free park, it said. For some reason, I saw the sign and felt the urge to walk across the grass, barefoot.  It sounds like such a simple thing, to take your shoes off and walk across the grass. But life in New York can be complicated.  People walk their dogs and sometimes don’t clean up after them, so you never know what surprises will find you. (Or your feet.) It doesn’t always make sense to be carefree.

But the urge became so great, I knelt down, and one by one took off my shoes. I stepped on the grass. It felt cool. It felt good. Soft, damp with dew, earthy. I walked across the lawn and felt grounded. In the middle of my city, on a warm June day, it felt right.

I loved it so much I did it again the day.

It’s the simple things.

xo, with goodness and grace.

Life is funny, I often think to myself.

We create these lives for ourselves, ones that make sense on paper and look pretty amazing to people around you. You meet people and tell them what you do and where you live and all the things you think add up to who you are, and they are so impressed and pleased with you. So it’s easy to think you are pleased with yourself, too.

And then something (or a series of somethings) happens that rocks you, unearthing the certainty with which you’d been living your life. Or, at least, the supposed certainty. Deep down you knew it really served as a mask for all the things you didn’t want to own up to, those whispers you know at your core to be the truth.

But you ignore them anyway.

I thought about this during a yoga class this week. A few of my coworkers and I had been invited to meet the team at Sakara Life, where we’d been ordering delicious vegan meals for the last couple of weeks. (If you are in New York or LA and you want to feel nourished and well fed, check them out. AMAZING meals.) They graciously offered us spots in a yoga class at their offices, and we happily accepted.

As we moved through the poses, I was reminded of how long it had been since I breathed deeply.

It’s such a silly thing to say. I forget to breathe.

But there it is, the truth. I walk through days holding it all in. I hold my breath as if I’m waiting.  For what, I don’t know.  Something exciting that’s on the other side of the pause. Only, it never comes.

The thing about movement is it forces you to be in the moment. When a pose is challenging, when you are all twisted up and struggling to find your balance, often the only way to get through it is to breathe deeply.  In…out…in…out.  So, in a room full of strangers—kind, open, generous strangers—I found my breath.

Those things I try to hide from, yet insist on gripping me tightly, slowly began to dissolve away. The rough, tough survivalist in me gently lay down her weapons and began to trust that perhaps there is strength in letting go.

Is it really that simple?  Is the key to getting through whatever it is you are going through to simply be present and breathe? Is it possible that is how you find your way?

It may not be.  But, I think it can be.  It’s a choice we make.


xo, with goodness and grace.

It’s the time of year when I become focused on the light.

This morning, sunlight awakened me. It flooded every inch of my apartment, illuminating even corners normally dark with shadows.  It shook me awake, saying, I won’t let you miss this. That light you seek, the light you are constantly chasing? This morning, it has come to you. It snuck up silently and made its way to you, resting for a moment on your shoulder.  So, pay attention.  

Of course, I grabbed my iPhone, anxious to capture the morning light in all its glory. And, of course, some things are not meant to be photographed. These moments of magic are elusive. They don’t want to be captured in a snapshot to be stowed away on some hard drive or in some book of photos long forgotten. They want to be savored, in the moment, as they are happening.

Sometimes paying attention is a prayer of sorts.

This time of year, I take nightly pilgrimages to a much-photographed spot in the city. It’s almost a cliche at this point.  But I go, and usually there are a handful of other light chasers waiting to catch the sunset. I’ve noticed the number of people increasing this year over past years. Maybe it’s some human instinct, to seek the light after long periods of darkness.

It’s been a tough few weeks for almost everyone I know, including myself, for all the reasons life can be hard.  Sick family members, long work days and short windows for play, relationships turned wrong.  But even in the midst of hardships, there’s something healing—restorative, even—about watching the sun set across a city scape.  In the backdrop of steel and concrete and hard angles, the softness of the sun can shift a bad day into one with an extraordinary ending.

I posted a picture from this place last week, but sunsets, like any moments in life, are always changing.  After a series of cloudy nights, we finally got an evening where the sun got to show off its full glory.


Let light find you this week.

xo, with goodness and grace.

Because your favorite time of year arrives, full of long days of light that end with the majesty of sunsets. Each one is different, and not always what you are looking for, and sometimes so much more stunning than you’d hoped.

Because each sunset, followed by evening rest, leads to the chance to start it all over again. One more chance to get it right.

Because the sun, the light, the brightness, all of it is grace.


May you find light to illuminate your week.

xo, with goodness and grace.

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