I once read "fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth." I would venture to say so is depression. Maybe not all forms, but there is a type of depression which occurs as we peel away layers of vrttis and ourselves. To myself, I call this 'soft depression' As we move closer to the truth, it can often seem like a letdown.

I found myself "let-down" yesterday. Nothing would make me happy. Not happy thoughts about my life, happy prospects about the future, not peanut butter hot cocoa, not the Metropolitan Museum, not a movie, not my boyfriend offering to do whatever I wanted. I looked for God- or beauty that could move me- everywhere, but couldn't seem to find it. Listless, gray, misplacing God, I wanted to quit.

After I exhausted all I could think of to lift my spirits, there was nothing left but to just hang with the darkness. You know that place? Some people call it rock bottom. "I remember, I remember when I lost my mind" sings Gnarls Barclay. One gives in to the mysterious forces at work, helpless otherwise, one becomes still.

I was silent for a long time. Just waiting...for something to come along and help me understand.

60 minutes after I hit the bottom, feeling still and raw, I shared a close moment with another being. Immediately, my spirit woke up a little.

The key words there are stillness and rawness. They set the stage for me to wake up. Openness. From a state of being open beauty will touch us. We will feel love. But when we are not in a place of openness, beauty will not touch us and we will not feel love- not really. Then, we will search for satisfaction in the mind, the future, in sensual pleasures, in activity or distraction, or in somebody else. This disease of searching for satisfaction where it cannot be found manifests a symptom like emptiness or depression.

You might wonder, what's wrong with thinking happy thoughts about life, about the future, drinking PB hot cocoa, etc?! And the answer is: nothing (Three Tarts on 23rd and 9th has the PB cocoa, btw) The problem comes when we think this is all we need in order to run. I'm learning that nothing that arises from my mind or senses is really enough to keep me running.

So what am I actually looking for, what WILL I run on? I think human beings are fueled by some pretty deep, high caliber gasoline. Two things.1. GIVING love. LOVE-ing the verb. And,

2. OPENNESS. Rawness, exposure. Here, I feel able to be moved by life, and able to actually receive the love that comes my way.

So, we practice. Practice loving and opening.

Of the two, today the latter is more difficult. How do I break open without breaking down? After I was depressed I felt so fresh, real, and plaque-free....can I feel like that all the time?

About opening, I was reminded of the beginning of a poem by Mark Nepo. My teacher, Dana Flynn, read it in class:

Having loved enough and lost enough, I am no longer searching, just opening.

No Longer trying to make sense of pain, but trying to be a soft and sturdy home in which real things can land.

Life is about opening, more and more. I don't know exactly how a being opens but I know the more I want to, the more I do. A huge part of opening, evolving, is investigating. Why am I depressed? Or angry? Sitting with it, I found my depression to be the symptom of a greater issue; me putting regular into a tank that only takes premium.

The place on the Path in between where we've been and where we're going is soft depression. Just beyond believing that maya (illusion) will satisfy us and just before really knowing how to LIVE in love and openness. It's tempting to run away from this in-between space, but hanging out here is the only way to learn how to live differently. The weirdness, whackness or depression...instead of the Universe punishing us is actually the Universe loving us, raising the incentive for us to figure out the difference between sort of happy and damn happy.

Some people like to take apart computers or cars, but I love to take my fears apart, dismember them, seeing what they are made out of.

When I was a kid I would ask my mom a question, then ask "but why?" until she could no longer answer. She would get exasperated and say "Oy! You are too curious." I'm grateful for this skill of wondering I developed as a kid since now I approach my fears the same way. Why? Why? Why?

It helps me to uncover the truth.

I take a fear and follow it all the way to the end, like unravelling a thread. For me, it always ends the same place.

Like the L train terminates in Canarsie, all my fears end in the same, deep concern: that I might be "unloveable." Fundamentally not worth the real estate I have in this universe.

It's funny to even write it- immediately it sounds ridiculous. I wonder if only I feel this way. No- the more research (meaning living) that I do, the more I find that in some way or another, many other people battle the same misconception. This fear just has a lot of costumes. It disguises itself as anger, control, being bitchy, moody, cold....

My friend Luke and I repeat this conversation about Love over and over. It just keeps coming up. We've dubbed it "primordial self-worth": the deepest confidence a person can possess. This confidence lies not in how smart, wealthy, talented (how many years did I think this?), beautiful (still working), how strong or sweet they are, but in whether they know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that they are worth the space they take up on this planet.

It's SO tricky. I could tell you till I'm blue in the face (like Krishna!) that I love you, but would you believe me?

Or would some part of you think "well, if you knew this about me..."

Some of my favorite personal reasons I'm not lovable: "I'm just too much person to handle" and "I have this one, fatal flaw..."

Great...so, what to do?

I don't know. Sorry. All I know is to LOOK.

My purpose in writing this is to emphasize how important it is to take the thread, unravel it, find the end. Take a fear and ask WHY.

Just that is powerful.

I ask my questions with movement. I ask them as I sit. I encapsulate my questions in mantras and chant them. I write my questions, bounce them off good friends, make classes out of them, walk the streets of New York City with them. And by following the rabbit hole as far as it goes and then exploring where I end up, I feel like there is hope for me to overcome, to get what I want in this life. Fatal flaws, insurmountable hurdles, deep-set misconceptions, paralyzing fear- it can ALL be worked with.

As my boy and renowned yogi Krishnamacharya taught: "Something that is impossible at this moment becomes possible through Yoga....In stages, the impossible becomes possible."

"Stop Looking, Start Living."

-Mark Whitwell

My idea of what it means to be a yogi has been expanded by the fact that today I spent 3 hours in Macy's shopping for shoes.

Yes, I spent 3 hours picking out heels to wear to my friends wedding. It took 3 hours because heels are something I never buy, and since I was deciding between two dresses. Mostly, it took 3 hours because some aspect of the feminine in me just wants to look really good.

So how did this challenge my idea of what a yogi is? I'm just usually less the girly type and more the kind who goes to Kirtan, like last night's chanting with Suzanne Sterling, a badass blonde from Los Angeles who can amp a room of people into a tizzy of dancing and freedom. I'm also someone who has spent the last 6 years putting Sadhana- or spiritual practice- above anything else. Like, not going out on Friday night because I want to sit. And that's how I've understood what spirituality is.

So, the shoes- along with the whole new side of me that is emerging that wants to be beautiful, adorned, a little softer- at times feels like a swerve off the yogic path. My old ways, parts of me that care deeply about expanding, serving, making a positive change, feel threatened. Will this new side take over? And wait,

I've always thought it was practice, hard work, and service that = spirituality.

Really, is attending Kirtan more spiritual than shopping for shoes, and why? I consider things in my life worthwhile if they are geared towards God, the benefit of All, Light- whatever you call it-

but is my concept of what is God-ly too contracted?

Stewing over whether I'm turing into a monster, I remembered something read at Bhaktifest, a yoga festival held in Joshua Tree, California, that I recently attended. A sweet-singing, sari-adorned Kirtan walla commanded the attention of her audience as she read the "19 Inherent Qualities of Radha." It is (to some) a description of the Divine Feminine. The qualities are:

Boundless love

Sacrifice competing with that Love

Universal Compassion

Changing emotional nature

Selflessness

Sweetness of Speech

Expansive Generosity

Simplicity

Helping Nature

Clarity of Intellect

Dispassion of Volcanic Power

Magnetic Purity

Childlike heart

Motherly Concern

Moon-like coolness

Softness of a flower

Himalayan power of will

Sacred Nature of the Ganges

Merged in Bliss

Whoa!

Look how MULTI-FACETED divine Radha is. In this picture of the Feminine there are so many opposites! Radha is at one moment cared for (softness of a flower), and the next moment caring (motherly concern). She is both of this world (changing emotional nature) and of another (Sacred Nature of the Ganges). As is called for in the moment. And I'll bet she can switch on a dime.

And ALL these qualities of hers fall under the umbrella of 'divine.' Like Radha, perhaps the different aspects of myself- instead of threatening each other- are actually meant to compliment one another. One can feed PRANA (life force) to another if I allow them to.

Radha and her 19 divine qualities are helping me widen my idea of what a yogi is, of what being spiritual is. Think of what you consider to be "non yogic" in your life- is there actually room for it somewhere?

Patanjali says that yoga is the stilling of the mind, yogas ctta vrtti nirodha- not one activity or the other. The mind can be still doing any number of things-

whether I'm chanting the name of the divine or buying patent leather heels for a wedding.

I can keep my deepest intentions close.

We are allowed to start living, yoga goes with everything.

finding the holy in what I choose to do

I make it holy.

If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out

Song Rec: "If You Want To Sing Out, Sing Out"

Artist: Cat Stevens

Album: Footsteps in the Dark: Greatest Hits, Vol.2

I'm learning so much right now I feel a like I've just gotten off a roller coaster, whoaaaaa

but from the most bizarre mediums.

No class, no book, no poem, no teacher

I'm learning by ADMIRING. By attraction to...

Voices:

breathy Cat Power

harsh Beyonce

cosmically feminine Sheila Chandra

Styles:

a flourescent statement of lipstick

a frayed tribal feathered getup

People:

the way my friend tips her head back and laughs.

When I admire something I take note, put a yellow sticky on it that says "there is something here."

I think we admire something when it's us-- what is inside is magnetized to what is outside. I just saw a dance performance where one piece started with one dancer alone on stage, staring at the audience. I loved how aliveness and power radiated like heat from the dancer to me in my seat. Part of me wanted to run down onto the stage, (gently) knock her into the wings and replace her! The intensity she was oozing- I feel it too- I wanted to stare at the audience, my eyes glowing like a demon or X-man.

When you admire something or someone, it is because you're working your way back to it. But, of course, the mind can get in the way:

Mind: "YOU, my dear, are NOTHING like Beyonce."

Molly: "Says who?"

Yes, my mind doesn't always agree with what I sense, smell, hear as a whisper about myself; with what is weakly banging its fists on the inside of my belly and yelling to get out. I might not look anything like Beyonce, but I feel an inner Beyonce! The way her voice is beautiful but also slightly threatening...her new video "Girls Run the World"....both remind me of something, somewhere in me.

And to not follow these impulses is actually scarier than the seemingly terrifying process that is becoming who we really are. I just spoke with a friend about this- how to block life actually hurts more than the ups and downs of living it. Still meditating on that one.

I find this is often the frustration people bring to their yoga mat- they sense one thing about who they are, but nothing in our society encourages believing or listening to things that cannot be proven, held, or measured. Yet the pain of being in an identity that 'doesn't quite cover it' is intense. I can relate. For a while I really donned the identity of "slyph"- fantastical willowy being in white who wafts from here to there. Well, that doesn't quite cover me.

So, right now I'm working on allowing myself to ADMIRE. I'm realizing that my ego doesn't need to be so defensive when I see something I am attracted to- I already HAVE it. And besides, being able to admire, to be attracted- is being able to be a student, is being able to evolve. What do you admire?

Rumi says: “Why do you stay in prison, when the door is so wide open?"

The door to being exactly who you sense you are is totally, completely open.

Can you walk through?

How To Change The World in Your 20s

“What you are, the world is. Without your transformation, there can be no transformation of the world. Only a profound inward revolution which alters all our values can create a different environment, an intelligent social structure, and such a revolution can only be brought about by you and me. No new order will arise until we individually break down our psychological barriers and are free.”

J. Krishnamurti

Thursday, before taking Elena Brower's yoga class, I check out her bookshelf. There is a book called "How To Change the World in Your 20s". I open it. Idea 1: Throw a dinner party to raise money for a specific cause. Idea 2: E-mail a state representative your thoughts on...

Time’s up. Class begins.

The next day I call my father. Topic: health insurance.

Molly: “Why do I, as an American, have to pay $250 a month for a bare bones health plan that only provides services if something major and terrible happens to me? How do other countries approach health care?”

Dad explains how health care reform in the US is moving slowly. Decisions about healthcare here are influenced by the interests of large corporations, who have often worked their people into the political infrastructure, and instead of supporting legislation that might provide Americans like myself with affordable healthcare, they protect themselves and their own interests.

The conversation leaves me sobered and feeling as though things in the US and globally are headed downhill, inevitably. I say "wow" and "geez" a lot- words expressing helplessness and confusion- how I feel that this Age (the Kali Yug , or Age of Darkness) is like a boulder rolling down a hill....my two outstretched hands couldn’t possibly stop it. I think back to the book I picked up. I don’t really want to throw a dinner party.

But don’t you ever wish you could DO something to HELP?

Every day I pray to be useful. I think about what Krishnamurti said, how the most noble job- the most useful thing you can do- is to just heal yourself. Could that be true? Are you sure I don't have to go to law school? I have noticed that when I am happier and in a space of love, I am more apt to share. Practicing yoga has given me ways to manage my own fear, and this gives me room. Room to say Sure, get on the train first, I’m going to be OK.

You know how when you are feeling good, you treat others well? The yoga practice lifts your spirits up to a sort of base-camp; it’s not the top of the mountain, but you feel a basic level of happiness that allows you to be kind, and share.

More YOGA=More LOVEing=More SHARING.

You might say, but I’m just ONE person!

And my rebuttal is: remember when hardly anyone used reusable shopping bags?

It’s daunting. And maybe the world - with global warming and nuclear warfare- actually will detonate and begin anew in the age of Truth. But I always think of the movie Titanic. How, when the ship started to go down and everybody realized they were going to die, that band started playing! Beautiful music- to sing and dance to- in the midst of destruction.

That’s what I want to do. Just be music and light in the midst of it all. And it takes work! Sitting down, getting on the mat, questioning, learning from those a few steps ahead.

Let’s change the world- be you 20, 30, 40. Let's make LOVE look so good, everybody’s gonna want to do it. LOVE will be sexy. Let's LOVE with such ridiculous resonance that we inspire someone else to do the same, and it will spread like reusable shopping bags until it reaches those asshole politicians.

So far, that’s my plan to change the world. I’m listening for the next instruction.

MOLLY, TRADEMARK

Song Rec: I Shot The Sheriff

Artist: Eric Clapton

Album: Time Pieces

Friday night making my way home from a friend's play in the East Village, I get on the L train in the same car as a heavily sunburned, dirty, tattooed man who is obviously high. Mr. High begins to have a loud argument, angrily, with nobody (at least nobody visible). The passengers near him inch away. At Lorimer stop, doors open and most people get off, but the man sits down next to me, still shouting and calling out.

Before the doors close again into the car comes a tall black man, slender, peaceful looking in a dark blue collared shirt, with a guitar hung on a strap around his neck. He reminds me of Robin Hood and I think: he needs a cap with a feather. He is playing for money, and the selection is I Shot The Sheriff. It doesn't take him long, though, to hear the man next to me cursing and shouting and interfering with his song.

Guitar Man pauses, thinks. He sits himself in between me and the angry man. He starts to sing to the man as though he were sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, serenading the patient. I shot the sheriff...but I did not shoot the deputy!

The drugged-out man stops calling wildly to the space around him and listens to the music for a few moments as though hearing something he has forgotten. Then he starts to sing himself- they sing together.

I watched, downloaded this experience into my being.

- - -

Fast forward. I call mom to remind her I’m here.

Mother: "What's new?"

Daughter: “Just took a yoga class. I'm walking up 6th avenue, from Soho to Chelsea, it's muggy and warm, and I just ran in to Megan and Dave!"

Mom: "Oh. ok."

There's a funny silence on the end of her words that makes me dig around for something more to say, such as "I got a new gig that I start this week" or "I just found out I’m doing x-and-such, and it’s a big honor." Something in my life that she will find exciting...

I think back to my experience on the train and consider telling her about it. Will she feel how I felt? Will she say, "Wow, that is so fucking beautiful,” ?

Probably not. So I find a subject we can both partake in- her upcoming trip to New York City (she can’t wait to go to the Botanical Gardens and a restaurant called Peasant).

I get that it’s hard to understand how a mere yoga class or walk through New York City during a pause in a rainstorm could be that exciting. But these days, even the sound of rain pattering on my window excites me. And yes, those 10 minutes on the L train pumped more life into me than any other part of my week.

I attribute this “change of tastes” to the yoga practice. It’s just part of what yoga does- trains you to see life with different eyes, hunger for different food, soul-food instead of mind-food. These small, daily things make a part of me deeply happy, and I’m starting, slowly, to spend more time in that part. See, the Spirit (or soul) just wants to feel ALIVE. The Spirit wants to EXPERIENCE.

(Whereas, we know what mind’s jam: I AM MOLLY. MOLLY MOLLY MOLLY…trademark).

Where I am now, every day is a mixture, an odd-flavored smoothie of Spirit and Ego. The whole game is in one moment of teaching: my mind is worried whether things are going ok, but another part of me doesn’t give two shits whether ‘things’ are ok… are YOU ok?!? DO YOU FEEL ALIVE?!?

So, where does one get an idea of what Spirit even is? (Whole Foods, of course) No- by asking over and over and over. For me, it’s the difference between life in gray and life in neon.

Of Spirit, I’ll leave you with this, from a teacher whose clarity I admire:

‘More and more I am less and less in evidence to myself. More and more I’m just whatever it is I am doing at the moment. It’s just happening, I’m just action. I’m not acting self-consciously. But it’s different from the unconscious action I’ve performed most of my life. All I want is to become like a finger on the hand of his consciousness.”

Ram Dass, Be Love Now, pg 191

INSTRUMENT OF THE DIVINE

Song Rec: Mind vs. Heart/ Artist: Nneka/ Album: Concrete Jungle

"What should I do with my life?" I asked.

"You don't have to do anything. Pay your rent. Things will just happen. If something is taken away, put some effort in. If anything is given to you, see it through."

This guidance came from Joan Suval after a talk she gave at the Ananda Ashram. She is the eldest yogi I've ever met- and a powerful lady.

But wow, how LOOSE is that advice? Most of us receive direction more like “you should go to graduate school in Dance Therapy.” She pretty much told me to just be awake- that’s all I can do and the rest will be done.

Operating this loosely brings up one of my great struggles; the idea that I am NOT IN CHARGE. Or, the idea that I am an INSTRUMENT OF THE DIVINE, as one of my favorite literary characters, Owen Meany, says.

An Instrument of the Divine is exactly what is sounds like- something that is used to further/carry out the grander scheme. As the instrument, my role in that game might be what I envision and it might not.

It’s sobering. Airplanes have really helped with my understanding of what this even means. No one prays more than me, when on an airplane. I won't forget the turbulence flying over Japan on my way back from China: OH MY GOD WHOA I'm in a machine 50,000 feet in the air. I have no control, all I can do is pray.

In truth, every moment is like this- raw and unprotected. I experience control-less-ness on my yoga mat, too. That moment when the bass is no longer in the floor, but rattling up my spine; when the song is no longer on the stereo, but filling me up; when I am no longer my personality, I'm just doing what I want because this feels good and that feels good. And when I’m no longer sure what’s happening, but I’m breathing. In this mysterious moment, when everything is waking up, for some reason I get that same OH MY GOD WHOA! feeling.

And hear this: the more comfortable I am with not knowing, with OH MY GOD WHOA!...

the happier I get.

Really? How could such an uncertain, tenuous state make me happy?!

I’ll explain. The reason I’m writing any of this is because recently in my life, something occurred that wouldn’t have been my choice. I was wallowing in sadness and fear when a good friend told me, with a loving harshness, not to give it so much attention. Don’t give the mind so much attention.

From his words I realized I just have to keep on truckin’ through the storm, just keep doing my job, which is to Love. I’ve never stood up quite this way before.

In order to do so, I had to call upon Owen Meany, aforementioned Instrument of the Divine, to help me make friends with the idea that what I consider to be “bad and wrong” in my life might actually be grooming me, grooming me for my greater role as a part of this universe.

So, hanging with the unknown is saving me from my own mind, who is distracted, directs loudly, approaches me and others with meanness and harshness, and as a result makes me feel like a loser baby (so why don't you…).

As an Instrument, I just listen quietly, follow honorably, love fiercely, and keep on going courageously.

Love Is...

Song Recommedation: Love

Artist: The Cure

Album: Instant Karma

"Love is actually a state of being, and a divine state at that, the state to which we all yearn to return."

-Ram Dass, Be Love Now

Just before savasana ends, I open my eyes. Orange light, sunlight through orange curtains, fills the room. Ambient 6th avenue honking outside. I have my own rectangle of space though I am gloriously not alone- forty others lay on their personal rectangles- and the room itself seems to embrace us all, maternally, with arms made out of the warm air.

Truly, I would be happy to lay here forever.

What is this feeling? Though it's just me, laying there on a mat, I feel as though I'm with someone- a friend- those arms made of light. This someone is fearless, and to them, I am the most precious thing. This feeling is so ridiculously/addictively/sickeningly good that upon returning to it, I cry a few over the tragedy of having been apart.

I think this is what I will call Love. I've come to know this feeling recently, and in two ways: one, from work done on the yoga mat. Two, from being around other people who have cultivated this mysterious companionship within themselves.

Chewing on the idea of Love, today told my friends how I have a hard time being alone with myself- how it's often not a loving space. They looked mystified. "I love myself, I have no problem being alone," said one. "Me too," added the other. "Oh." I said, a little shocked.

Is it just me? When I'm alone, something goes rotten. There is no warm embrace like in the orange-light room. Instead, there is a feeling of sharp separateness, fear, darkness, and meanness. It's difficult to describe, but I can safely say that the "Friend" ain't there.

Maybe I didn't properly explain to my friends that I'm not talking about your ordinary, 'we're-related' or 'today I looked in the mirror and liked what I saw' kind of love. I'm talking about the deepest Love- one I have no reference for but I smell, I can sense is possible.

Or maybe I do have a reference- personal experience. For a few weeks, I was attending a Breathwork circle- some of us getting together to do a long, difficult pranayama (breath practice) followed by a long savasana. Though I can be stoic, every single Breathwork session I shocked myself by crying. After struggling through that breath I would arrive in savasana at this place of incredible tenderness, so powerful it was almost as though there was another presence being tender towards me. Yet it was only me there.

Rumi and Hafiz talk about "the Friend" and Ram Dass writes that Love is a state of being. Is this what they mean?

I can't help but ask- what would life feel like if this sweetness or Love was a continual reality?

For some people, it is the reality! I have the great karma of knowing a few beings, who, largely, have ended all MEANNESS towards themselves- I mean, ALL meanness ("why did I just do that?"). And their eyes have this unwavering gaze, a fearlessness. Simply being in the presence of these folks is a radiation therapy. I seem to learn from them without words.

So I've been playing with it on my own. I feel like Curious George, asking "what would happen....if I added some love here?" and I draw upon my experiences and observations of Love as guidance. Or sometimes I think of the mantra "I'm with Love" (an improvement upon the T-shirt slogan "I'm with Stupid"). While yoga classes are meant to feed you, but they are also meant to teach you how to feed yourself. We get together to manufacture Love, then hopefully after class when we go our separate ways, we are still singular factories of Love for those around us: on the train, on the street, in the market.

It's in, it's out, it's up and down. Some days I am Being Love, and other days begin with a vacuous "Huh?"

But as Ram Dass says "There's no going back. The lingering taste of that ultimate sweetness remains and won't be denied."

FEAR VS FEARLESS

I get scared really easily. When I walk home after dark, I'm scared. The kids on my block yell "fuck you bitch" at each other and that brings a dark, Kali-yug fear over me. When I'm typing my password into my online banking- trust me I'm scared. Some days, I'm SO scared of life that I want to drop my purse in the middle of the sidewalk, look up and shout "who the HELL is PROTECTING me here?!"

Nothing is protecting you. Except, perhaps, prayer.

Does that terrify you? It terrifies me. I thought something was protecting me- my mother, my teacher, my job. My parents worry as though worry will protect them from pain. But I'm beginning to see how not only are these things not protecting me from life, my fear isn't, either. We are all raw and exposed to the decisions of the Universe. Feeling fear will not shield me from what is feared!

What shifted? It was a few days ago that something came loose. I had the new experience of a Reiki session. Afterwards, I was walking in the cool spring air with my friend and I felt at ease on a level I had never felt before. It was a Glimpse. A glimpse of a way of being that is obviously possible, yet I do not regularly practice. We have glimpses like these as we do spiritual work: "wow, this is what love feels like." Or maybe it's a glimpse of spaciousness, awakeness, the true hipness of your Being!

So even though the next day I was back to normal, the memory of that Glimpse stayed with me. I think we crawl our way slowly back to what we glimpsed, using the memory of it, until it becomes our reality. I guess that's good news- I'm slowly, in immeasurable micro-increments, working my way back towards how I felt post-Reiki.

Today felt like progress. In fact, today I felt like a modern, Vans-slip-ons-wearing Joan of Arc. Facing the battle of life completely afraid, but facing it. For example, today as usual I felt the shrill shriek of my soul asking "what will become of me!" This question lets me know I'm freaked-out, and strangely it often occurs while I'm doing what I love, teaching. But today, after the question, came echo echo echo. Moving on.

I feel fear.

But I don't feel afraid.

It's powerful, and it Serves. Last week I was with someone I've always seen as fearless. In our conversation, I realized they were feeling doubtful about the future, and unsafe. Even though the idea of such a strong, protecting person being scared made me scared, I sensed how I could either perpetuate or stop the 'afraid.' I think that seeing the people I love be afraid has been my most powerful schooling in Courage. One of us needs to step up....I'll do it. I'm here to tell you that one way or another, you and I will be OK.

That's what I'm working towards. I still think that living is terrifying. But, not pretending that it's otherwise, I'm developing a new way of being- I'm really savoring the times I feel happy and safe. Today I took my favorite yoga class and I felt a new joy in being there- in singing, dancing, then sweetly resting with friends and family. How lucky. Maybe deep happiness comes from just deep understanding that nothing is promised.