How can I help? Meeting Tara Stiles & Mike Taylor and Learning Strala

This blog post is a bit different than usual, but some things just make you break the rules.

A few weeks ago, I had the amazing experience of meeting my yoga idol, Tara Stiles, at the beautiful Love Yoga studio in Albany.

I found Tara last Fall, when I was looking to begin practicing at home after getting back into yoga over the past couple of years.  I found her DVD set and then a 7 minute YouTube video and thought, "Who is this casual girl doing yoga in a New York loft like it's no big deal?"

Well, I bought the DVDs, began practicing her sequences via YouTube and was soon hooked.  There was just something about her style that was different, and that made my home practice open into something creative, empowering, and fun.  So, when I had the chance to not only meet but train with her, how could I pass it up?

I have to admit, when I first met Tara, it took me a minute not be starstruck, but not that long because, simply put, she is the real deal.  What a treat, to meet someone you admire and have them look at you with clear eyes, hand all that admiration back, and ask "And how are you?"

Tara is a real person, a really kind, funny, genuine person who has taken her gifts and gives of her knowledge and expertise without expecting or wanting you to become a follower or devotee.  She and Mike have tapped into some truths about 'helping' that are often missed by those of us 'professionals.'

My favorite of these: asking "How can I help?" rather than "What can I prove."

Strala, the style of yoga that they have created in New York City, is a movement based system that seeks to connect each person to themselves.  There is minimal instruction beyond movement and breath guidance; no lectures, insights, or corrections.  Rather there is laughter, encouragement, and fun.  And continued emphasis on being relaxed so you can breathe and move like a wave in the ocean.

Mike and Tara talk about how your own breath should set the pace of the experience, and the result is a class or experience that leaves you feeling refreshed, empowered, strong and smiling. Strala encourages the person moving to not only be responsible for their own experience, but tells them that they are the expert on themselves.

Our medical establishment struggles with this idea, seeking instead to offer expertise and advice.  Strala is a conscious response to this disempowering and fundamentally unsuccessful approach to healing and health.  Strala is a mind-body medicine that guides you into your own body, so that you can listen and act accordingly.

While Tara is a trained ballerina who found her passion in yoga, Mike is trained in medicine and martial arts.  Together they seek to create a style of yoga that heals body and mind through ease in movement and connection to breath and inner self.  I think they're doing quite a good job.  Obviously.

Hopefully I will soon begin my journey towards guiding Strala here in Portland.  I cannot wait to share all of this with others.  It's yoga party time.


Tara has a ton of free or minimal cost videos available on YouTube, full classes via the Strala website, and through her DVD set This Is Yoga ($20).  She and Mike have also just launched a full instruction course for Strala, available via MindBodyGreen.  If you live in Portland and love Strala, let's get in touch!!

Finding Your Inner Rose

A few weeks ago now, I went for a walk in the Portland Rose Garden with a friend. I had had one of those weeks, and walking among the flowers felt like a balm for my heart.

Roses give rise to all kind of metaphor, don't they? They are such a literary tease.

Their beautiful smell, the thorns, the perfect shapes and petals. They are truly a gift to us human earthlings, reminding us of what's important in life, and that thorns are a part of it all.

A rose shows us so much about how to relate to ourselves; about what gives rise to gorgeous blossoms.

The alchemy of care and thorns and weather produces a display that takes your breath away. But to achieve this, we must be able to recognize rose from weed, and this goes for us and our own hearts, too.

As we seek happiness and the expression of our true self, we must patiently look for the rose within, the blossom waiting to unfold. Often it is invisible to us, wintering away, hidden by other plants that can look much easier to tend; or that we have long ago mistaken for a rose.

But with patience, we can find that gorgeous blossom, and once we've found it, we no longer mistake anything else for our own precious rose, unique and perfect and ours alone.

For both the rose and ourselves, summer is a time of full expression, the culmination of a year spent working patiently, hoping for sun.

May you experience the joy of your own inner rose, the part of you that no one else can touch, but that, with care, will always be there for you.

The Green & Gracious Mirror

Mmmm... the first almost Spring days brought me not just one but two walks outside this past weekend...

I love to walk in the cold of late winter.  The fresh green air has a way of surfacing important and overarching themes, while dispersing the mundane and petty.  As I walk, worries shed and creativity and motivation take their place. It is a very strong medicine for me.

Stillness, aliveness, newness, deadness.  It is all there in the Earth just before she awakens to Spring.  And all that is inside each one of us too. Nature invites us to learn from her, and to find our connection back to ourselves through seeing her as a reflection of our own inner world.

The past two winters have gone by quickly for me. I cannot believe that it is almost March, and that summer plans are already being discussed and put on the calendar. K & I tend to hibernate in Winter, we're not snow folks, so I am already dreaming of wildflowers on the hillsides of the Columbia River Gorge, and that cleansing wind.

I saw this quote today:

“He who is outside his door already has the hardest part of his journey behind him.” — Dutch proverb 

There have been very important days in my life, when important events occurred, that began with my simply saying to myself, "Just put on your shoes and go outside."  Which meant I walked...

And looked up....

And saw new things and beautiful things.

May your day bring something fresh and new and true, and may that bring you closer to your self.

Practice for Bringing on the New

If you can go outside...

Put on some walking shoes and your coat and hat and scarf (if appropriate),
Drink a big glass of water
Open your door
Go outside.

Stop.
Look at the sky,
Breathe...

Walk
Look at a tree branch, notice its beauty
Breathe....

Walk
Listen for birdsong, hear the kindred spirit there,
Breathe...

And Walk and Remember
Remember that you are a child of the Earth and that you don't have to earn the right to live this life. Every being alive has the right to just be.  And that includes you.

So walk...
and breathe...

If you can't go outside...

Find a window to look out of,
Look at the sky,
Or a tree branch,
And just be, just watch and breathe.

Fill up with beauty,
Allow yourself to feel light and loved.

Love Lost, Love Found, Love All Around

This is always an interesting week in my office, Valentine's Day/week/season, that is. I don't know how to tell people to just not worry about it so much, because they will anyway, but I try. And there are often pesky memories.  What I do end up saying a lot are things like,

"It's worth waiting for."
                                                                                "Wait until it isn't a choice."
                       "Trust."
                                                                     "Breathe."

I have been fortunate in my life to know many, many people who are deeply in love. I see it all the time, all around me, the support and connection of commitment that comes without effort. Not that the happiness of the relationship comes without effort (for that is the work that bears the greatest fruit), but that the commitment itself is not a question.  There is a with and a we that becomes as natural and normal as... well, anything else in life.

In these days of so much kind-of connection via the Internet, it seems even harder to let life lead. To just put effort into the things you enjoy, get out of the house, and let love find you can seem impossible.

Even if you have found your partner, you can lose precious time to the computer when you could be holding hands, smiling at each other, helping out, or expressing appreciation or support.

Whether you're single or partnered, think of this this Valentine's Day:  Make yourself happy first and the relationship you find will always bring you back to that version of yourself: the person you were that day when you first knew, when you first felt it, when you first realized that you were getting to know the person you would be with for the rest of your life.  Then you get the best of both people: a happy, loving you, and the person you fell in love with when you were most at ease in yourself.

Recipe for the Experience of Love:

Take a moment when you would be doing something else, and lay down on your bed or on the floor.
Get comfy. Put a pillow under your knees, make sure you are nice and warm.
Smile.

Now soften your whole body, your whole mind, your whole heart.
And again.
And again.

Luxuriate in doing absolutely nothing but softening, melting, being.
Accept absolutely everything in your conscious awareness.  Every thought, every itch, every sound.

Be the center in the storm.
And breathe.
And soften.
And breathe.

And love.

Happy Valentine's, and thank you for reading!

Finding the Inner Glow of Winter

Nature shows us that Winter is a time of stillness and rest. Even with all the hustle we (now) associate with the holiday season, stillness is very close and very accessible to us, if we take a moment to look and feel for it.

It is the true richness of the season.

Today we are 10 days from Winter Solstice, the darkest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. It is a time of lighting lights, on trees and house and menorahs. We smile and greet others warmly. We give gifts and hope that they are what the other person wanted, fret over what the perfect gift might be.

Isn't it amazing that out of this time of barren branches, cold winds, and falling rain we find all this warmth emanating from inside? Maybe it's because we are stripped back to ourselves more in Winter, more able to find the glow within.

I've put a simple practice at the end of the post to guide you into what I'm talking about. Enjoy and let me know how it goes!

May your holidays be filled with your own inner glow.

Simple Stillness Practice 

Set a timer for 5 minutes and sit down in a comfortable chair. 

Take 3 deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth (pursed lips can aid in this), allowing your body to settle down.  

Now imagine falling snow, the quiet of a Winter's night.  Allow that quiet to surround you, as if you were standing alone in a field of falling snow. 

Let your body breathe deeply if that is natural, and also allow the breath to become more shallow as you relax. (We breathe deeply to bring on relaxation, but once relaxed the breath naturally becomes quite shallow.)    

Continue to breathe normally and simply connect to that experience of stillness. Be in that field, feel the quiet and stillness of Winter. 

Going Back

I had the opportunity this weekend to go back. My sister was up in Seattle for a work conference, so I drove up Saturday night to spend the evening and next day with her. We grew up there, in that rich green city, when the focus was on planes rather than computers; we skinned our knees and rode bikes surrounded by rain and saltwater and moss.

Seattle felt both different and the same; it is, as always, a city in transition. Sometimes, a city block has undergone such significant change that I become disoriented, losing almost entirely my sense of place and direction. Landmarks disappear, new ones appear, and I feel lost until there is that brief view of water, or mountains, or a familiar intersection, and focus returns.

I know where I am, but not exactly. I think that that coffee shop is just over there, but look, there is a new one. I thought that this street went all the way through, oh no it doesn't. I guess I'll take a different way.

C. and I spent Sunday just walking around, lazily, like we did when we were twentysomethings, when weekend time waited to be filled with conversations, revelations, and trips to bookstores. There were occupy protests and coffee-drinkers; lots of people in layers and Christmas shoppers. And among them were the two of us, talking about the past, present, and future, and being glad to be together.

You can't go home again, so they say, and it is especially strange when home feels like a moving target, a constantly changing kaleidoscope of gray and green and water. But being with my sister always feels like home, and being in a Seattle that feels like my life at its beginning, and not, all at the same time, that felt like home, too.

So maybe you can go back, maybe you can go home again, because home is people, and places, and moments. Home is where you find it. Home is always there, if you are willing to settle in.

Light Steps During the Holidays

Entering the holiday season can mean a lot of deep breaths. Now, mind you, I actually really enjoy the holiday season, in theory: the food, lights, gatherings, sense of community and spirit.  We all band together to bring some light to the world just when it all seems about to go out.  I love candles, and green boughs, wrapping presents, and making things (cookies, mostly).  I love big hugs that celebrate just knowing someone for another year.  But, I also take a lot of deep breaths, because the holidays can, in fact, really make me stressed.

Every year, I am determined to deflect this sense of stress and doom.  Around the middle of October I began to strategize about how I am going to organize my holiday emotions into something productive.  I will figure out which presents go to which people.  I will make simple gifts that we can give to many.  I will send Christmas cards, on time, to everyone!   I will make lists! 

Yet, somehow, all these "wills" seem to lead instead to last-minute Christmas shopping, New Year's cards (during a good year), and food hangovers that last until Valentine's Day.  It is an ineffective strategy, at best.

So, this year I am taking another tack: I am going to try to follow the advice I would give to any client that presented me with this issue.  That is, I am going to relax.

I am going to stay open to the right moments for things like baking, making lists, and shopping.

I am not going to shame myself for not getting these things done.

I am going to look at the calendar and lightly plan for parties and other festive occasions.

I am going to smile.

Because, most of all, what I really want for Christmas this year is to simply feel good, to be relaxed, to enjoy the season, to have time for gazing and laughing and breathing in light.

How about you?

Seriously Playful

Play is on my mind today. K. was mentioning a post about Mr. Rogers that I put up earlier this year, and it made me think of the quote you see above, I love it. And it made me wonder and think about play...

Play is something I personally struggle with. I am the oldest of two, and I am a born boss. I love to plan, know what the plan is, execute the plan, make others follow my plan... you get the drift. So, to find play and make it a part of my everyday life is no small task. Damn. There I go, making play into a task.

We're going to visit my lovely sister and her husband this weekend in San Diego and one of the many reasons I love spending time with them is that I know we will play. Why? Because my sister loves to play - that is where her mind goes first when she thinks about spending time.  This joyful focus is something I have learned from her over the years, and the education continues every time we are together. I need to seriously learn about play. It is a lifelong job.

My sister plays in many amazing ways. She is an artist, a thinker, and the person you want to have around if your life needs a little more zest. She has certainly added a lot to mine. When my mind is saying, "What should I get done right now?" Her mind is saying, "What could I do right now?" A subtle, but important difference.  (We all need both!)

One way that I incorporate more play into my life is to literally 1) take a minute to physically shake off stress, 2) blink my eyes really fast for a second, and 3) look around and ask myself the question, what could I do right now that would make me smile?

May you have a playful weekend.  Try turning a task into something fun.  Wait, that sounds familiar.  How does the song go?

In ev'ry job that must be done
There is an element of fun
You find the fun and snap!
The job's a game
And ev'ry task you undertake
Becomes a piece of cake
A lark! A spree!
It's very clear to me
That a...
Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
The medicine go down-wown
The medicine go down
Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
In a most delightful way

Admit it, you want to go listen to it right now....  May your weekend be delight-filled!

Leafing

Fall is striking. Spring brings relief and joy; summer, relaxation, but Fall stuns with the beauty of death and the completion of the cycle. Fall stirs in me both melancholy and an intense gratitude for the experience of being alive. There is a kind of urgency as each silvery Fall day glitters like a melting jewel. I take deep breaths and do my best to simply accept each day as it comes, rejoice in its beauty, let it go.

I recently went for a weekday afternoon walk in my neighborhood. This is a rare thing, as I am usually downtown working at the office during the week. But on this day, I was home, so I was lucky to have the chance to go walking, armed with a light canvas bag for collecting leaves.

When I was a freshman in college, as the first Clinton election approached, I went crazy for leaves (and flannel and big, baggy Levi 501's). My new best friend and I would gather armfuls and take them to the student union, to people's apartments, to the long wooden table at the sorority house we would both leave the next year.

I went to college in Northern Idaho, and on that beautiful Moscow campus there are many many towering oaks and maples, so there were always lots of leaves to be found. This friend of mine was also into puns, so for many weeks I received notes written in purple pen that said "I leaf you" or "Don't leaf me." As many at that age are, we were quite infatuated with our own cleverness.

 

I thought then that we would be forever friends, but it wasn't to be, and that close, clever friendship turned out to be fleeting. Really, we both changed, and thus went, in different ways. The next Fall, she was in Sweden on exchange. We both made new friends, fell in love, changed. We wrote almost daily emails for that whole year and nothing indicated that it would be the last year of our closeness, in fact, the opposite. The messages were long, detailed missives about everything that was happening for each of us. But the next year, when she returned, everything was different.

Sometimes friendships recover, sometimes they don't. We both made our efforts at different times, trying to honor the two years, one real, one virtual, that we had been so close, but it never came back together.

Now when the leaves fall, I think of her, and of being so young, so full of ideas and thoughts and self-importance, and of rejoicing in the season of death and return when my existence felt eternal.

On my walk the other day I filled my bag with leaves for another old friend, who lives where there is no Fall, and who I missed seeing this year, and have missed too many times. I pressed them and sent them to her with a card, to tell her that I'm glad we're friends, that she is special to me. Because Fall is a time for planting, too.

What is right in front of you?

Anyone who knows me well, knows that I am pretty darn happy about how much I have been progressing in my ability to cook and keep K and myself (and anyone else who stumbles into our home) well-fed over the past few years.  My love of food and cooking can border on the obsessive, but I try to keep it within bounds, and to remember that there are many other things to be interested and to do besides concoct a meal.

I love cooking for many (obvious) reasons, but especially for the teaching it provides.  "Learning to cook" is one thing, but the process of finding ingredients, putting them together, and adding little touches is a true teaching.  It is filled with lessons about life, nature, love, family, giving.  And it is full of decisions.  Having to face those small decisions over and over again forces me to continually return to one of the mantras I offer my clients, no matter what the issue: What is right in front of you?

When you are facing a problem in life, it is easy to become stressed, frazzled, and unfocused.

Choose instead to look and see, What is right in front of you?

Lavender Days

Yesterday K and I went to Sauvie Island in pursuit of summer's bounty, or, at the very least, some lavender.  Sauvie Island is an agricultural oasis just outside of Portland; it is a fun place to visit.

I had found a u-cut lavender farm and had my mind set on holding some of those luscious purple bunches in my hands. I am dreaming of teas made with lavender and lemon verbena; petals thrown into desserts and simple syrup; and just having the smell around the house.   The smell...!

Cutting lavender has to be one of the most inherently relaxing activities you could do. As soon as we got out of the car, the smell of the field came full force.  I found myself lifting my nose in the air, trying to take it all in with big gulps and sniffs. I could feel my heart relax as I sat down in the field to begin cutting.  It felt like it was smiling and thanking me for bringing it to this special place.

For You, Whoever You Are...

I've spent a lot time today between sessions working on the world of In This World.  This fixing and fiddling inevitably takes me on a roaming exotic journey around the bloggosphere.  I really have to admit it, I love blogs!

Working to create a better, prettier, blog is fun.  And it is fun because a blog is something implicitly shared.  I may only have 5 page views in a day, but there is always the potential of what I am writing being seen and shared and (hopefully) enjoyed.  And that means connection.

This put in my mind something that the great Ursula K. LeGuin said during an interview I saw recorded live for Think Out Loud  last year.  Someone asked her about whether all writers write for an audience.  Her refreshingly honest response, "Real writers do!"

Creation is a gift to be shared.  Whether it is a blog post, photo, meal, song, or idea, creations are meant to be shared with others.  And the experience of that is so thrilling, fun, and magical.

A lot of the people who come to see me in my therapy practice are creatively frustrated, sometimes consciously, sometimes not.  And with that they have not found, or have lost, a medium for connecting.  That lack of connecting leads them to feel stifled, inauthentic, and bored.  (Read: depressed.)

Therapy is all about developing the ability to find authentic connection, beginning with: yourself.

What are you not creating today?  Where are you not connecting?  Look for one and you may find the other...

Peace

Friday afternoon visit to the Portland Japanese Garden.

So much work
simple perfection
easy on the eyes and heart

Ink

I love movies.  Saw another great one about the power of our emotional life.  It's low-budget, a bit slow to start, but so creative and very rewarding.  It's called Ink.

Ink takes on the powerful--and not easy--issues of guilt and shame; how we damn ourselves through our inability to take action in the face of these powerful feelings.  It takes on the existential fear that if we face the truth about our actions, we will be destroyed.

And no, destroyed is not too strong of a word.  How will we be destroyed?  Ask yourself that question the next time you realize that you are beating yourself up over something you've done.  Stop beating yourself up and take action.  Hard to do?  What are you afraid of?

The saddest part is what goes unspoken

My saddest moments as a therapist often have nothing to do with what's being said.  Instead, they are about the heartbreak that hovers in the room and goes unspoken.

She yelled at me all morning about how lazy I was, and then took off for the weekend without calling once.  What I couldn't believe is that when she came home on Sunday night, she didn't even want to eat dinner with me.  Is that so much to ask?*

If this quote made you twitch, that's a good thing.

What is not being said here?  How much it hurts to be yelled at and demeaned.  The breach of trust that occurs when one person leaves and doesn't call.  How this should call into question the entire relationship, and how the issue should be how this person is being treated overall by an emotionally and verbally abusive partner.

Instead, it becomes about the missed pizza, or not receiving a birthday card from someone who hasn't said a respectful word in ten years, or how someone who yells at you everyday never text-messages back in a timely fashion.

This lack of self-respect, lack of self-love, is the saddest and most heart-breaking thing that I experience as a therapist.  It is what is not said, not acknowledged.   It is the looking to incriminate someone's behavior rather than weep at your own heartbreak.  It is trying to fit into someone's desire rather than draw boundaries around your own heart.

"Love yourself" is mantra we all know.  But what does it mean?  How do you put it into practice?

One day, one interaction, one relationship at a time.  Say no.  Say yes.  Take care of your self.

*All quotes in this post are completely fictionalized accounts of therapy.

The King's Friend

I went to see the acclaimed The King's Speech last weekend and thoroughly enjoyed it.  It is a great movie, a fine film, and a lovely period piece with exquisite usage of the music of Beethoven.  A fantastic way to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon.  But the best part--for me as a psychotherapist--was this: the heart of the movie is the healing power of the relationship between the king and his therapist.

I'm sure the movie will be seen by many other therapists who feel the same way.  Here comes a client looking for techniques and fixes when what they really need is love, honest friendship, and to tell their story.  The latter is the reason most of us go into our line of work; that is, to listen, and to try to help and heal with our hearts.

As a psychotherapist, I am told that "it has been proven" that those techniques and fixes are what helps, what cures, and what is right.  That I need to give my clients the homework, worksheets, and assessments that they are expecting and think will help.  That I need to continue the message of lack that they have been struggling with for their entire life.

Don't get me wrong, I give homework and I teach skills.  But these are integrated into an approach that seeks to empower the client to know themselves, and to be in control of themselves; an approach that seeks to teach clients to love themselves.

And it works.

What I love about this movie is that it shows the importance of respect for where the client is and is willing to go, and the responsibility on the part of the therapist to challenge this position.  Many movies have been made about psychotherapy.  It's funny that one about speech therapy really hits the nail on the head.

Connection through Difference; Enchantment with the Possible

In this TEDtalk, Elizabeth Lesser discusses ideas for connecting with the "other," the person who is "different":




Connection to the other is a theme this week.  I've posted about it, worked on it in my own life and work, and President Obama is talking about it too.  How have we become so divided?  How can we work towards connection?

We need to let go in order to connect.  We need to be unafraid, secure, and ready for surprises, challenges, and the adventure of life.  This attitude is happiness.

The other we are connecting to is not just someone who is different.  The first other we need to embrace are the others in our own hearts; the others inside that we fear, dislike, or are ashamed of.

Living life with faith is about inspiration:  going towards the inspiring rather than away from the feared; looking for the choice that fills the heart with a sense of wonder and peace.  It's about facing those inside others, loving them, and then letting them go.  And then doing it all over again.  Because that's what makes the heart sing.  And nothing feels more lovely or true than that.

I don't know what's going to happen in this world.  There will surely be more love, more pain, more need, more want, more joy, and more despair.  What I do know is that we are revolving through the mysterious spiral of the universe one moment at a time.  And that today I am filled with wondering, and that feels wonderful.

On Dreams

What are dreams? Are they important? If they are not, why do we feel like they are? As in, "I had the strangest dream last night, I wonder what it means..."

We know that these fantastical, scary, beautiful, experiences we have at night have meaning for us, but we don't always know how to access it. 

Dreams are a vital part of daily living. They give information about the future, about ourselves, about destiny.

Here's a few ideas for beginning a dream journal, the key to having a relationship with your own dream life:

1. Buy a journal, doesn't have to be big and fancy. Something medium-sized and thin works well for me. I have a few I like featured in my Amazon Store. I really like Moleskine and Clairefontaine products.

2. When you go to bed at night, take a moment to set your intention to remember your dreams.

3. When you wake up--either at night or in the morning--write down whatever is in your mind, it could be a color, a person, or an entire dream

As you do this more and more, your dream recall will increase, and you'll begin to see themes and patterns.

Our dreaming life is a place of beauty and truth. Enjoy your journey!

Courage friends, courage!

Courage is key. Fear is what holds us back, what tricks us into believing when we shouldn't, or not-believing when we should. Fear is the bogey man, the one who holds us captive.

Fear affects everyone, so dealing with it is a major concern of the therapeutic process. One of the major influences on my practice is a man named James Bugental. He articulated beautifully the process of overcoming the fear of actually being with ourselves.

James Bugental wrote many books about the process of therapy, emphasizing that therapy holds the possibility of teaching us how to be with ourselves, not just know about ourselves.

It takes time, patience, and courage to be present with oneself, to face the things that have been lurking. In that process, issues we thought we had put away can suddenly surface quickly; or there are themes we begin to notice about where our mind goes when we feel certain emotions.

This is the exciting part of therapy, whether individual or couples: discovery. It is what keeps the process alive, fresh, inspiring, and life-affirming.

I really enjoy the books of Paulo Coelho for this reason. His books stir the heart, encourage courage, and affirm life. This is what I strive to do in my work with clients, and hopefully I get there sometimes.

Hoping

Even as the rain continues, and continues, and continues, and Spring teases us like the guy in high school who glanced and smiled and never said hi, I feel especially hopeful today. 

Last Saturday, I went to a workshop led by Bob Edelstein, my clinical supervisor and mentor.  I have worked with Bob for 3 years now, but I always learn something new in his presence.  His passion for what he does is something to behold.  Passion!  I left the workshop on Saturday evening feeling reinvigorated for the work that I do with my clients; excited for the process.

Bob always brings humor, candor, and a kind of simplicity to a difficult process.  "What would Bob do right now?" flits through my mind many times during a work week. When I have the chance to ask him, I am always surprised and inspired by the answer.

I also had fun.  On Sunday I went to see Robin Hood with K.  Not a great movie, but a really fun movie.  Beautiful English countryside, solid actors (Cate Blanchett!), and a timeless story. 

And "Lost."  Ah yes.  I have been a devoted fan for 5 of the 6 seasons.  I began watching because K. was working on Tuesday evenings, and it stuck.  The finale was great, entertaining, and fun.  And it made me think.  And search the internet for what other people thought.  And think some more.

I also met some challenges this week.  As I do every week.  If we expect life not to challenge us, oh crap, we are in trouble.  Some of these challenges involved work, some friends, some simple circumstances.  But I dealt with them and moved on.  What can I call that?  Action!

And I had some great conversations, both in session and out.  I connected with others, shared ideas, relaxed and enjoyed.  I allowed the presence of fellow human beings to influence and change me.  I connected.

So, a full week.  A week full of learning, thinking, feeling, action, and connecting.  A week, in many ways, like most weeks.  But more... noticed, felt, experienced.   May hope and remembrance fill your weekend!