Finding My Way Again.

Sifting through a life of dreams, he was the captain of our ship, and when he died, all of our dreams seemed to die too, or were just lost in the confusion of it all… which were mine, which were his, and which were ours?

In an instant, 2 ½ years after his death, it all comes flooding back to me as I walk though the campgrounds across the street from my house. And there it was, a symbol of all we’d dreamed, in a 6x12 homemade camper. My heart swells. Wait, that was my dream too. He opened my eyes to a whole new way to exist in this life, and it always seemed like his. Until I saw that little camper, and I remembered my own heart. Dreams of  homestead living in the redwood forests of Northern California, mine, consciously living in harmony with the Earth, mine. Oh my gosh, my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach, a deep ache for all that I’d forgotten that I loved in this life. He showed me the way, yes, and then he died, but these dreams were still very much alive in my heart. He awakened in my heart these dreams, and they were mine now too. He opened the door for me to finally walk through, and with tears, I find the love again, and I release a little bit more of the ache. Oh love, disentangling myself from the pain that came from the loss. I feel my heart open a bit more. Scared as hell, I decide to let my heart lead anyway, with a new commitment to myself to remember my heart, and to follow the path of love.

"I think God thinks that's funny..."

I overheard Ava telling a little girl at the library that her daddy died. I couldn’t hear the response from the little girl, but can only imagine through Ava’s response that it must have been sadness or shock, because here’s what Ava said in a soothing, and loving tone, “It’s ok, everybody dies, it was just his time.”

So, a few days later, I asked her if hearing people’s responses to her daddy’s death was hard… She said it was. I told her that so many people are afraid to die, and that they’re afraid to die because they have forgotten that they have a spirit. Well, she thought that was quite amusing, and said, “ I think God thinks that’s funny. And I think Daddy thinks that’s funny too.” And so it is.

Honoring Birthdays of Loved Ones Passed...

We picked flowers on our walk to the beach, an afternoon to declare our birthday wishes and love for a beloved husband and daddy in the sand. I was trying to make it so perfect, as if the perfection of my sand art was a measure of my love… He knows, of course he knows, I ease into that knowing. Instead of trying to keep it all contained, smooth, and picturesque, I align with what this afternoon is truly about, a living expression of love and gratitude, an offering of ourselves in remembrance, in quiet open attentiveness to the mysteries and miracles of Spirit. And so I wrote to Mitch, my feelings, in the sand with the tip of a feather, witnessing my words being erased almost as quickly as I wrote them as my daughters happily played all around me, drew pictures of their own, messy, in-process, a practice in letting go, of surrendering to the impermanence of life, and embracing the playfulness of a child. There was a peace in the surrender to it not all being “perfect,” and in that I found real perfection; a beautiful way for us three, my daughters and me to honor Mitch’s Birthday, each in our own way, together, at the beach, in the sand, fully alive to the sheer preciousness of the afternoon, and feeling so free. We danced, we twirled, we wrote, we made art, we made sand angels, we prayed, we wished, we made an offering of flowers to the ocean in prayerful remembrance of a loved husband and daddy… It was reflective and sad and hopeful and joyful, and so very human.

Another Birthday Since You've Been Gone.

Mitch would have been 35 years old tomorrow, wow. The last birthday we celebrated with him was his 32nd… and what did we do? A moment of panic because I can’t remember… I can’t remember what we did on the last birthday we spent with him. How can that be? When you don’t think there’s any reason for remembering, because you think you have all the birthdays in the world to celebrate, well, then it’s easier to forget I suppose. I can definitely tell you what we did on the last few birthdays… Very low-key, me and the girls, first year we ate cake, second year, we did not. And tomorrow, what is the plan? Well, I’m not quite sure actually. I’m learning to take these kinds of days as they come, go with how I feel. And actually, we weren’t even “supposed” to be in town tomorrow. Me and the girls were supposed to be in Nevada with his mom visiting with his family. And then the girls got the stomach flu, and so as the mom, I made the executive decision to cancel the trip… Which I must say was accompanied by some guilt at letting others down, but in the present moment, it was the only decision that felt right. And I’m learning to listen and heed my intuition. I usually regret it when I don’t. And so what to do tomorrow? Well, it is Easter, so Easter spiritual service at the Self-Realization Fellowship, Easter egg hunt and Easter baskets, and then, well, I’m finding on these kinds of days, anniversaries, birthdays, I like to lay very low, hermit-style. Reflection, contemplation, music, nature, loving my girls, honoring Mitch, and being so grateful for life. Perhaps a little cake, a little beach play with the chicas and writing daddy birthday wishes and love letters in the sand and a little solo beach walk. That’s it. Actually that sounds perfect. Birthday wishes and love letters in the sand, me and the girls. An offering. A sacred ritual of celebrating and loving, and also letting go as our messages are washed away by the ocean during high tide. And honoring the feelings that arise, not trying to make it any other way than what it is, and really being okay with that, and having compassion for myself, and tons of love for my girls, and sending Mitch so much love, so much love.  Happy Birthday to my angel in heaven!

Love looks a little different now...

Oh the topic of love… I have spent many months praying for the moment when I feel ready for love again… setting my intentions around letting go of my marriage, letting go of my sadness, to open to the prospect of falling in love, the head-over-heels dizzying kind. And then I reconnected with an old friend from childhood, and my gosh, it felt so good to share in the friendship, it was so comfortable, felt so safe, so much laughter and easiness, so much flow in our conversation. And then all of a sudden, my ideas about love shifted... Yes, I still wanted the head-over-heels dizzying romance part, but I also wanted the friendship, the trust, the laughter, the easiness, the fun, the playfulness, the emotional sharing and deep conversations long into the night… My husband, Mitch, and I had the head-over-heels dizzying part of love, but the friendship took much longer to cultivate, in fact we were still cultivating that part up until he died… Reconnecting with my friend from childhood helped transform the concept of love for me. Unfortunately, this friend of mine lives a five hour plane ride away, and even if it blossoms into nothing more than a rekindled friendship, I will be forever grateful for the shift in my definition of love that our relationship provided.

Conscious Parenting: A Week in Patience.

My four year old daughter, Ava, chose patience as our weekly intention. I thought our week in patience would be about reminding and reinforcing patience within myself and within my children… And there was a little bit of that, but more than that, it showed up as a need within myself, to have a greater patience with the overall natural flow of life. It’s funny how life works sometimes because as I was holding the intention of patience all week, bringing my mind back to patience throughout the day, in thought and in conversation, breathing it in and breathing it out, slowing myself down, I reached almost a pinnacle of impatience by the end of the week! And it wasn’t necessarily with my kids, but rather an impatience with the flow of life just not flowing as fast as I would have liked... My impatience was born from this desire to try and have it all figured out, all perfectly mapped out without any surprises (ha!), and the effect of that impatience caused me to be super impatient one evening with the girls at bedtime. My impatience caused this atypical neediness in my daughter… She was so affected by my mood, even though it had nothing to do with her… this was a powerful reminder for me not to take people’s bad moods personally, because most likely it’s about their own sh*t, just like my mood had nothing to do with my daughter. The next morning, I apologized to her, explaining I had been experiencing an inner-grumpiness and impatience that had nothing to do with her, but that it was sort of just spilling out of me and onto her. She had a good little laugh about that and we hugged. And so my work this week was about trusting the natural flow of life, still setting my goals and intentions, but also allowing for destiny to work it’s magic. Also, I definitely noticed a greater patience in how my four year old daughter treated my youngest daughter, simply through setting the intention for the week and letting it naturally weave in and out of conversation. This week, Ava’s chosen intention is kindness...

A week in generosity...

This past week, our intention for the week was generosity. Generosity was the intention that my four year old daughter, Ava, chose. And so the week began, and I found myself overly correcting her, critiquing her for the ways she was not being generous…. “Not sharing? Well, that’s not being very generous, right?” After a few minutes of this, I quickly realized that if I kept on going about it this way, it wouldn’t be fun for either of us, and the lessons in generosity would be lost. And so I decided to live and breathe and embody generosity as much as I could throughout my week and teach my daughter through example. And so as I started letting generosity flow in and out of my day, naturally it began to flow in and out of conversations I had with my daughter. I began noticing ways in which I was not being generous, ways that I had not noticed before. And the beautiful thing was that with that awareness, opportunities were created to begin to cultivate that quality more deeply. I picked up my sister-in-law from the airport in Long Beach, an hour and half away, and instead of dreading it, complaining about it, I embraced it, took it as a opportunity to practice being more generous with my time, and with my love. And I volunteered to drop her off at the end of her trip as well. I also volunteered to offer my room to my grandfather during his planned visit the following month, something that I may not have offered before. And I noticed that Ava grabbed toys out of her baby sister’s hands much less often. There was less screaming and more sharing, and that was without micro-managing generosity throughout Ava’s week. Simply setting the intention, and having conversations was good enough. And now, for this week’s intention, patience… Stay tuned. :)

It's a new day...

After spending the last two years devoted to chronicling my grieving and healing process, now I am editing and preparing the entire journal for publication. And I’ve sort of reached the end of that chapter in my life… I’m no longer moved to write about grief anymore, well, every once in a while I am, but not so much anymore because I’ve seen my way through that time in my life. I feel healed. I have made my peace with death, and in fact it has been my greatest teacher in being grateful for my life, and in helping me to remember what is of true importance on the daily.

And what has shown itself as truest importance is raising my daughters, consciously. I had my four year old daughter in a Montessori preschool while living in Costa Rica , from age 2 ½ until nearly 4, and she loved it. However, upon my return to living in California, I made the choice to keep her and my 1 ½ year old daughter home with me. For how long, I wasn’t quite sure, I only knew I wanted to firmly reestablish our family culture, of peace, learning, patience, and joy after our intensive period of grieving, and before I sent them out into the world.  And so, I am moved to share what I am about to begin chronicling… teaching, embodying, and really walking with and letting myself be moved and transformed by… Living and teaching all of the virtues I’d like to cultivate more deeply within myself, that I’d like to instill within my daughters, and that I’d like to see more of in the world, like for instance, a love of learning, cooperation, patience, gratitude, generosity, compassion, confidence, etc...

And this is really the heart of where true change begins, right? within ourselves… when we stop simply feeling powerless about the state of affairs across the world, and begin to “be the change we wish to see,“(thank you Gandhi) by beginning with ourselves and with the next generation, our children. And so, periodically,  I will choose a different virtue that I feel inspired to live more deeply, that I’d like to see more of in the world, and that I’d like to teach my children and I will weave it, breathe it, and live it throughout our days. And I will write about it and share it. An intimate journey of living out the virtue of cooperation rather than competition in our daily lives as a mantra, as a deep embodied meditation, as a part of our daily conversations… An intimate journey of living out the virtue of compassion, not only for fellow human beings, but also for each living being we share space with, plants and animals alike…  with the hope that this embodied learning and transformative daily experience of positivity will imprint onto our hearts and extend into our daily lived experience. And so this is great because it gives me a fresh writing project, writing about the thing I’m most focused upon at this point of my life, consciously raising my children, with a hope that it will also be inspiring and empowering to others.

I will also be writing about what lights up my nights; my experience of being an entrepreneur, down to my experience of being true to myself as I market my workshops, my private mind-body-spirit guidance sessions, take on the responsibility of being my own “boss” and creating my own feelings of worth, validation, and success, working through the comparison-to-others bug, and even the process of realizing what my definition of success even is… And finding the balance of both night and day, motherhood by day (and actually in being a single mom, it’s fatherhood too), and creator, developer, and writer by night, and let’s not forget just being Alexandria in all of it, cause how easy is it to lose ourselves in all of responsibilities of life? And I will be writing about the development of my professional self, the self that both gives back to the world and takes what is needed to support my family. And the creative process, and the process of following inspiration and intuition when it comes to moving forward in my business projects… And of course, I will be sharing the process of writing my book, the ups and the downs, the very realness of it all. And well, I’ll be writing about whatever else is inspiring and flowing, cause even though I like being organized, I need to be organized, I also despise being constrained by it, so in addition to writing about the things I’ve outlined already, I want to emphasize that I will also be writing about whatever else I want to write about, cause I’m practicing freedom. Organization gives me freedom to play and create within boundaries I've created, and a flexible, open-mind is the catch-all for whatever else is happening in my life. So, there. A declaration of fresh starts all across the board of my life, and so happy to be in a space where I can hear my authentic voice and share it with you. May for the force of inspiration be with you. xo

A Widow's Journey Through Parenting, Two Years Later...

There’s been some sadness under the surface… just out of my awareness… too busy, too healed to get sad… But then today, out for a walk with Ava and Amelie and we met some of our neighbors, a young couple, around my age, so happy, and somehow I mentioned Mitch, and that he died. And then I thought, why did I just bring that up with complete strangers? Cause as I walked away I nearly started crying, and I haven’t cried over Mitch in a while… I knew I needed to come back to my sadness after the girls went to sleep for the night, and so that brings me to the present moment. Here I am writing about it, processing it, cause I know by now that feelings don’t just go away because we are asleep to them… Sadness. I watched a few videos of Mitch tonight, just to hear his voice, see him again in action. And it hit me, as time moves along, Ava’s memories are getting farther and farther away from her consciousness. I asked her the other day if she remembered her daddy or if she just remembered him through pictures, and she shook her head no that she didn’t remember him, but that yes she remembered him through the pictures… Oh, this is where the sadness has been. Even as I type the words, as they spill out onto the screen, tears, and there haven’t been tears in a while. She doesn’t remember him anymore, and Amelie never even met him. And he was such an awesome guy. They’ll never really know how much I loved him apart from the way I talk about him, the stories that they hear, or the pictures that they see. And that’s what’s been hurting my heart. Ahhh, the tension in the back of my heart has softened, I understand why I just “brought it up” with that younger couple this evening… these feelings needed witness, they needed moving. They needed release. I told Ava a few times over these past two years that when the time was right, a loving man would come into our lives that would do all the things that a daddy would do. Her eyes lit up, she wanted to meet him immediately… I do want that for my little girls. I want them to have a dad. I’m focused now on building my business and my financial platform, fully healing from my broken heart, and being mom and dad to the girls, but when the time is right, me, Ava, and Amelie will fall in love with a very special man, someone that would be Mitch-approved. A lovely vision indeed. And so for now and for always, I’ll tell Ava stories about Mitch, the adventures, the love. She and Amelie will always know how loved they were by their daddy.

Awaken. Envision. Release. Three words that have guided, supported, and inspired me…

Three words, Awaken, Envision, Release, are words that have guided, supported, and inspired my process of growth as I evolve and expand on my path through life.

Three words to describe my process of healing from the grief I experienced after my husband’s death. When he died, in an instant, I was awakened to the impermanence of this life, never having lost anyone close to me, death was just not a part of my lived reality, and then I awakened to the spiritual world in a very real way. I envisioned myself making peace with death, mending my broken heart over losing my love. And release, I had lots and lots to let go of in the process of finding peace, of accepting the ending of our love story.

Three words to name a process, to guide the evolution of continued growth.  Awakening to my inner-power, my willingness to lead, to all the knowing I’ve learned over the years.  Envisioning the creation of workshops and courses to share with others, begin to build a financial platform to be the provider for my family.  And release, the thoughts telling me I can’t, the feeling of not being good enough... And again and again, a process to facilitate the realization of our greatest potential.

Awakening through practices of awareness, meditation, reflective and contemplative journaling, to the thoughts, the feelings, the embodied experience, and to the higher consciousness, the Spirit, the power, presence, love, and knowing that is within us all. And envisioning a life that lights us up inside, one in which we feel at home in, the kind of life we dream up in daydreaming, and vision mapping that touch all areas of our experience, in relationship, in body, in thought, in feeling, in action. Consciously choosing how it is we wish to live, how it is we wish to serve others while sharing our gifts, talents, and passions. Envisioning is a process dedicated to living with purpose and fulfillment. It’s living with gratitude for each moment of aliveness and sharing that with others. And release, ahhh, the letting go, of the thoughts, the feelings, the behaviors that hinder us on our journey, that cause us pain or suffering, that keep us separate from others. Yes, it’s in the release that we become lighter, more free, more clear. Good-bye letters and rituals, embodied feeling to promote healing, and choosing. Choosing to let go and step into the realm of possibility.

Local Southern Californians, join me on Saturday, January 31, 2015 at the Yoga Bergamot in Encinitas for a workshop on Awakening, Envisioning, and Releasing, to live a more conscious, intentional, and liberated life.

My intention for this workshop is that you will walk away having awoken something in you that was seeking expression. That you will have tapped into a greater capacity to love, to know, to be present, and to feel empowered. That you will have new practices to remember and cultivate this awakening in your daily life. That you can more clearly see the direction of your future, and that you can more clearly know what you want, who you are, and what you want to spend your time doing and being in life. And that you will have let something go that needed to go, or that you will have begun the process and have the tools to continue on releasing in your daily life.  

This is the last week to register for this course. Register at:

https://alexandria-romero.squarespace.com/new-products/c1gzt3vm618plg7ijzvqwg59d1k2n9

Creating from full rather than from fear...

The motivation to do something worthwhile with my life, to live out my purpose, make a positive impact upon others, cannot come from this driving fear that I may not, that I'm not already exactly what and who I need to be... it's like this unraveling of all the conditions, all the conditions that make us worthwhile, that make us good enough, that make our lives meaningful enough. Cause when we settle into the deep space, the bright light we find after all of the layers of conditions fall way, is enough, we are already enough. And then we can craft our lives from this feeling of full, this feeling of already loveable, worthwhile, and meaningful enough. Then the rushing to do this or do that, to feel like we “made the most of our day,” “were productive enough,” falls away, bit by bit. And then we move from the space of love, we let our directive minds quiet, and we move from inspiration, from the seat of creation itself. Cause I am tired of beating myself up on the daily for not doing enough, not being creative enough, not being productive enough... I'm ready to know in my bones that my life is already worthwhile and meaningful, and so I create from the space of full. And by full, I mean full of juicy, dripping, sweet, and sticky LOVE.

Sometimes, strength is just about showing up.

Strength. I'm taking an online class to learn how to intuitively connect to the major arcana cards of the tarot, the symbols and archetypes that play out in our lives. When we arrived at card #8, Strength, after spending a few days being with and getting to know this card, I learned an invaluable lesson about strength. Sometimes, strength is simply about showing up. Showing up to yoga class, showing up on the page to write, showing up in relationship even when it feels hard. Even when we feel tired. Even when we feel weak, uninspired... Just showing up. Being present. And remembering that in time, everything does in fact pass. We are sad, we are happy, we are angry, we are stuck, and then the feelings pass... so, not to get too attached to any one particular feeling, either loving or hating it, but just allowing, noticing, staying calm, and showing up. Being present. And today, I noticed with great joy in my heart that now, nearly two years since my husband died, there are more days of happy than there are sad. There was a time when there were more sad days than happy ones, and I would worry and lament over these feelings, wishing they would just go away, being hard on myself for what felt like steps backward when I would feel sad after a few days of happy... But, the grief had to move in its own time, and what I have learned from the sad, I would not trade for the world. Learn to have gratitude for it all. Rich lessons for us to learn in all of our experiences.

How one minute of soul gazing can break you wide open (in a good way)...

Yoga class tonight began with the dreaded, “choose a partner, someone you don't know and silently stare into each others eyes for one minute.” And so, my partner's name was Jack, and why was it so hard for me to look into his eyes and have him look into mine for one minute, which certainly seemed much, much longer...? When you're looking into someone's eyes like that, wow, there is no where to hide, there is nowhere to go, there is nothing to say. It's just you and him, and him and you. And the thing is, being seen, really seen, with someone looking deeply into your eyes, whatever feelings you have that you haven't been quite aware of, well, suddenly they all come to the surface. Whenever I do this exercise, it always feels like my partner sees right into my soul, and so whatever is present, needs expression, is just right there, all raw and vulnerable and totally naked. So tonight, I realized this was the first man's eyes that I've gazed into since Mitch died... wow. And seeing as the exercise is so uncomfortable for me to do, (I began settling into it just as the minute was finishing), I see that I have more work to do around loving myself. Because that's what came up, a bit of self-consciousness (like, deer in headlights self-consciousness), and a bit of how good it feels to truly be seen (which scares the shit out of me)... And so, that's just what I came back to throughout the class, a silent “I love you” to myself, and a lot of opening with my breath, when my body wanted to close. And when I laid in savasana, tears. Tears for how much I am craving being seen, with love, and how it starts with me. Love for myself. A lot of loving hugs and empathy for all I've been through, and a whole lot of gratitude for where I am now. Love thyself. It starts right here with ourselves. So try it, with a friend, or a partner, for one minute...

"Where do we go when we die?" Answering the questions kids ask.

.“I don't want to die,” “I don't want you to die,” “I'm scared to die,” “Can I take my stuffed puppy with me when I die? I think Amelie will take her favorite blankie,” “I miss daddy.” The latest questions and conversations from my nearly four year old daughter. Death has become something very real in our family. It has been nearly two years since my husband died and my daughter's understanding of what it means to die changes as she gets older. In the beginning, I explained death through the spiritual lens only. Daddy is free as a bird now, he's like an angel watching over you, available to you at all times in spirit. While also being real about how sad those of us feel who are left behind, who also feel his physical absence. No daddy to hug, go on dates with, cuddle with... And then explaining that death is beautiful, we are completely free, returning to the place we left before we were born, pure love, pure light, peace, and joy. Pure God. “I can't wait to die,” she says after I explain the beauty in the transition to death. Hold on, I tell her, there is much beauty and purpose we have here on Earth before we die. And I tell her I feel like I'm not going to die until I'm old, which is truly how I feel, but then I also tell her that none of us die until it's our time, until our spirit is ready. She seems satisfied with these answers. But death is on her mind. I leave the door open for conversation. At such a tender age, feeling her way through understanding the very real questions that all of us have about what it means to live and what it means to die. To live with this truth of both our immortal and mortal reality, well, I think it helps us live more fully, with greater meaning. These are the questions people have been asking since the beginning of time... As we move through our own fears about death, we will be more prepared to answer these kinds of questions posed by our children from an honest, heartfelt space.

How to make the most out of precious alone time when the kids are napping...

Oh my gosh, the little ones are both asleep, both taking their naps... Ahhh, then a moment of frantic, what should I do first? How do I make the most of this time so that when they wake up, I feel refreshed, recharged, happy to welcome them back into the world of the awakened? (Rather than disappointed because the only thing I did while they were sleeping was wash dishes, do the meal prep, and clean the house...)

So, how to make the most of this precious time when the little ones are asleep? Reframe the emphasis not on what I should do while they're asleep, but rather on how I want to be, how I want to feel while I have some precious time to myself... Well, for me, I'd like to feel peaceful, creative, fulfilled... So, if my body's in need of some yoga time, I'll do some yoga, the silent, meditative, listen-to-my-body kind of yoga, or if my mind's running wild, I'll sit in the backyard or living room and quietly meditate on an uplifting prayer, mantra, feeling, or sensation, or maybe I'll creatively express myself through writing (like I'm doing now while the little ones are asleep), or maybe I'll put on some inspirational or calming music and do the meal prep (if I feel moved to do so) in a creative, mindful sort of way. The point is, during my down time, I try to make it as sacred as possible. And the thing is, the more I practice creating sacred, mindful, creative time in my free time when I don't have a lot of things pulling at my attention, the more I am able to integrate that way of being, that quality of being into all the other areas of my life... So that when I'm cleaning the house, I'm breathing, I'm listening to inspirational or meditative music, I'm focused on creating beauty, serving my family, myself by clearing space, clutter, mess, I am focused on feeding my soul... And when I'm with my kids, I'm focused on loving, patience, playing, compassion, I'm there, I'm all there, and I'm all here, right here wherever it is I am. So, it just so happens that today when the little ones fell into their slumber, I felt pulled to write, to creatively express, and now that I'm almost through with my writing, I feel called to breathe and do some hip opening yoga poses on the living room floor, and then maybe I'll book a few appointments that need booking, or I'll clean up the dishes from lunch because by then, I'll have done a few things that really nourished my soul that couldn't be done while the little ones were awake (such as write, do some uninterrupted yoga, pluck my eyebrows), and I'll do them with calm... Or maybe I'll take a shower, cause sometimes when you have two little ones, the best thing you can do while they're asleep is take a shower cause it's about that time...

Another anniversary... how long do we go on counting after someone dies?

Driving to Tustin to visit with my mother-in-law, flooded with memories. All those times before when I would drive to Tustin, to see Mitch, it's different now. I drive now to see his family, the living connection to my husband, to our daughters. The girls sleep on the hour drive and I listen to music, I sing along, I cry a little, but it is good. It is a cry of knowing, of allowing, of surrendering to what is. And I enjoy the drive, the coming home, a house that is another home to me and my daughters, a place where I feel at home. And I remember that this week marks another anniversary, of the time we met. So full with possibility, mystery, excitement. This week, it would have been 11 years of togetherness. And then I wonder, how long do I go on counting the would have's, should have's, could have's...? I guess as long as I count them, as long as I remember them... The push to move on, to move forward, to be through with the pain and sadness... But I realize there is happiness in the remembering of this particular anniversary. The anniversary of when we met, when we first started dating, because it wasn't all wrapped up in a dream, in expectations of forever, of growing old together, like our wedding day. It was just a beautiful moment in time full of possibility, of mystery, of excitement... So, there is faith there, that when the time is right, I will experience true love again in a new form, something very different from what once was, but something just as beautiful. Although hard to imagine anything comparing to the love I had with Mitch, I remember that there are no comparisons, when we compare someone always loses... each person, each relationship, unique, beautiful in its own varying way. And so this week I decide to celebrate a life full of possibility, mystery, and excitement. I toast to what was, what is, and what will be.

Coming home. Where the physical meets the spiritual.

Oh dear God, there in the closet on a shelf are my husband, Mitch's ashes. This is what happens to our bodies. This is what happens to our bodies after we die. He's free as a bird, I tell our daughter Ava, and then I find myself at a loss for words to describe this, physical remains. Ashes after a body is cremated. It is heavy. Emotionally. The urn is heavy, ashes of a body burned are heavy. Heaviness sits with me as I look, as I look without seeing. And then in the quiet of the night, they are still there. I look away, turn off the light and dream of Mitch while I sleep. I dreamt he almost died, almost, I felt his body hard, and then like a miracle, he lived. Overjoyed.

And this is in the coming home, the full circling of my journey since he died. Seeing the ashes, starting a life anew that is all my own. Where is he? I've disconnected from our spiritual ties months ago, a conscious “living in reality” as recommended by a well-meaning friend. And now, I come back to California, I come back to him, physically, he is here waiting for me in the brass urn. A printed label on top, his name, the date of the cremation, a special id number for his body. One of many, bodies, as I've learned in real life. All bodies die. This sits in my body as a heaviness, and what is left is not him as I know him now. 1 year and 8 months ago, everything became different. I could no longer relate, connect to his physical body. This is when my spiritual search became like breathing, like a search for that next breath, after all the breath leaves our bodies. And now I've come home, and here he is, in a brass box. And this leaves me heavy, sad. I know that is not the reality that leads to that next breath, that life that comes after life.

I connect to everything about him, of him that feels alive. His music, his beautiful art, his beautiful photography, the qualities of his spirit that fill me with love, wisdom, and courage. And all things that remind me of my own spirit, sage burning, meditation, prayer, spiritual service, music. And this is how I move forward. I learn to tune into my experience, and honor that as best I can by living in accordance with it. Living in alignment with that which bring peace, acceptance, joy, light. And him, his spirit. I learn to live with the spiritual knowing that we are eternal beings, that we are all connected through both life and life after life, and in the spaces between. The memories come when I am reminded of them, so many, so much, so much in ten years. Almost like a past life, a life full of things passed. But I see without that, I would not be the same. And I'm not the same. I drive around these places I used to drive when I was carefree, when I lived without the illumination of the darkness that death brings. And as I drive around, I see that I am no longer the same, not thinking about the same things I did then. And I see now that through the illumination of the darkness, my ignorance, naivety about death, I am lighter, I now have a gratitude for life, a deep thanks in my heart, whereas before there was a fear hidden away in the dark parts of what was not known.

I see myself smiling in photos celebrating the wedding of friends and I smile inside my heart with pride, it has taken much travel, much pain, much courage, much love, and much faith to arrive here. To smile from my heart, to feel joy and the utmost gratitude for the people in my life that have held and supported me along this journey through devastation into the unknown corners of what every human being must undergo at some point of their lives. Their meeting and their peace with death. Their sadness at the impermanence of this life they love so much. A grieving of my husband and a grieving of a belief that I was invincible, that he was invincible, that this life was all there was, that spiritual truths were simply stories, not grounded in true experience. I see the rich contrast, the lessons rich in this earthly, sensuous experience where we are connected to each tree, each stone, each crystal, each rising and falling tide, each fistful of earth, and that we are also as infinite as the universe expands. A journey into wholeness, a wholeness that is forever expanding and lighting the world. And I decide I will keep a small beautifully carved wooden container with my husband's ashes, and the rest that rest in that heavy brass urn will be scattered somewhere beautiful.

“To live in this world

you must be able

to do three things:

to love what is mortal;

to hold it

Against your bones knowing

your own life depends on it;

and when the time comes to let it go,

to let it go.”

Mary Oliver

In Blackwater Woods

Stop moving and start meditating

So easy to begin moving so quickly toward something in order to try and feel better, without slowing down long enough to understand what it is we're trying to move away from... and if we don't know what it is we're moving away from, we'll keep bumping up against it until we do...

So, if it's anxiety you're trying to move away from, really understand it, get into it, explore it, be a curious observer learning about you, what sort of situations trigger this very familiar feeling, what is the root of this familiar feeling. Our tendency is to want to run away from, numb, or fight against painful feelings, but explore them, get to know them when they come in to visit. Chances are there is some love that needs to happen there, some pain that needs healing and tending to. So, slow down. Meditation helps us slow down to know what it is we're running from, numbing, fighting against. So, it is a process that requires courage. You have to believe in yourself, you have to trust the process cause it takes time. Do your best to find a time in the day, morning or evening where you can meditate, even if it's moments, minutes, and have a VERY clear intention for why you're doing the work of slowing down, (perhaps you are tired of yelling at your kids, you keep recreating the same miserable conditions, you're tired of never having any money) or it will be very easy to quit when it gets hard or painful and go back to what's familiar, comfortable. So, why are you doing this work? What are you moving away from and what are you moving toward? What is your intention? And know that when we understand what within us needs healing, we stop encountering the same situations over and over again in order to find resolution.

I-Phone #2 Swallowed up by the washing machine. The call for greater mindfulness.

Yesterday morning, I started the day looking for my i-phone... feeling forgetful, misplacing things, rushing... Several hours later, I went to take the laundry out of the washing machine, and there underneath the sheets and towels on the bottom of the machine lay my poor missing-in-action-iphone, a gift from a dear friend that read about my last i-phone (well, Mitch's really) that got tossed into the ocean as grand act of letting go (it was also experiencing technical difficulties...). My heart sank and then I sort of chuckled, my second i-phone that died a watery death, apparently I am not meant to possess an i-phone at this particular time in my life...Even so, I did try and bring it back to life by placing it in a baggie with dried rice in the hopes of extracting out the water... but the thing is, it also got tossed around pretty darn good, needless to say, it never came to. And so today, my first day without, I noticed I was more present... no handheld device to make international calls with, scroll through newsfeeds, receive notifications, new emails. And it was okay, it was more than okay. I had a really great day with my girls, and realized a higher level of presence and mindfulness must be the exact medicine I need right now, seeing as if I had been in this state of mind yesterday morning, I never would have tossed the phone into the washing machine in the first place... So, now to manifest a camera instead...

And so challenge yourself, not suggesting you toss your i-phone, but challenge yourself to be more present. Try and go a few hours if you can without checking your phone... really engage with what is happening around you, within you. Breathe in the moment. Enjoy the quiet, enjoy music, enjoy your kids, your partner, nature. Unplug for a few hours, the afternoon, the day... See what happens.