Recently, a friend of mine whose 12th-grade daughter is starting to hear from colleges to which she applied, said, (well, texted - talking is so last decade) - “I can’t wait until you go through this [with your daughter].”  At this point, you are probably reading this as one of those conversations where we parents roll our eyes and sigh in resignation, because everybody knows, the college application process is the final, awful, conflict-ridden hurdle to overcome before we release our children to The World. So, surely, my friend was being snarky.

If that is what you assumed, you are wrong.  My friend genuinely has been enjoying the college application process with her oldest daughter (and I can assure you, as she is several years sober, she was not TUI - texting under the influence).  So, of course, as with all things counter-cultural, I was intrigued. It had never occurred to me that the college application process could be an enjoyable bonding experience between mother and daughter.  I asked her some advice, since my own daughter is now a high school junior; I ordered my daughter a book on getting organized with it (because this must be a process she drives and works on); and I subscribed to a fascinating podcast I found on the subject. (Check it out: Getting In: A College Coach Conversation).

Before my run this morning, I listened to one of the episodes, which are always discussions by former college admissions officers.  Something they emphasized in this episode was something I had never considered, and while I ran, I thought about it.  The former admissions officer insisted that the people reviewing college applications WANT the applicant to be a good fit for their school.  Suddenly, my image of these grumpy, middle-aged people with college admissions tenure, who smugly enjoyed the power they had over these children’s (and adults’) future, vanished.  Because of what I interpret to be the insanity in many circles, metropolitan areas, and schools, where children pile on so many AP’s and extracurricular activities that I wonder if they have discovered a realm where there are 34-hour days and 10-day weeks, not to mention the fortunes spent on SAT prep courses and educational consultants - I had assumed that the college application process, just like any Keeping Up With The Joneses race, is inevitably awful and the people making decisions are akin to the Wizard of Oz (before he is found out).

As I ran, I felt cheerful as I contemplated this new idea.  Whatever school my kids end up applying to, their wizards really want them to go there!  The wizards will read over my kids’ transcripts and highlights, not with an intention to hit the Deny button, but with the desire to find everything they love and admire about my kid, so they can hit the Accept button! So, basically, for my kids to be rejected, they will need to convince the wizards that they really belong elsewhere.  As I smiled over the neighborhood hills, I followed this line of thinking to other areas of life. Applying to schools is an intense experience, but it is a fraction of our experience on this planet.  How about all of the other events, where we show up somewhere and feel that anticipation, perhaps anxiety, as there is a possibility of rejection?  Every time I write something and hit Share, I say a prayer, that my intention for writing and sharing something may be from a place of service and authenticity, and that it may be received that way.  It would be easy to focus on the people who may be out there reading my babble and thinking I have no clue what I am talking about (they may be right), but I choose to believe that when someone is led to my blog, it is because something I am saying is what they need to read today.  As I ran, I thought, people WANT me to succeed, to show up in a helpful way, to make a difference.  I thought, that is what people, the world, God, want for ALL of us!  

Think about how this positive mindset affects the energy you put out there. Whether you are applying for a job, filling out an online dating profile, checking out a new exercise venue, attending a dreaded social event - shifting the way we think about it affects the way we present ourselves.  Do we reek of desperation? Are we crafting this persona because we assume that surely, the wizards would never accept me as I truly am? Are we piling on the adult version of AP’s and extracurriculars (i.e. saying Yes to everything except for Self-Care and what stokes our spark, or helps us rest)?  How about if we try on another assumption going forward.  Even if it feels like a huge stretch, we can imagine the wizards, whoever they may be in your life today, feeling really good after their morning run and meditation and eager to meet YOU, the one who will make their group, company, class, institution, day, complete. Of course, we all experience rejection, especially the more we put ourselves out there.  Rejection sucks. It’s inevitable.  But I think if we go into life’s admissions processes with the assumption that the wizards want us to succeed, and giving them permission to decide we are a better fit for someone else, or another situation or institution, we can greatly diminish our suffering.  

“There is a lie that acts like a virus within the mind of humanity.  And that lie is, ‘There’s not enough good to go around. There’s lack and there’s limitation and there’s just not enough. The truth is that there’s more than enough good to go around. There are more than enough creative ideas. There is more than enough power. There is more than enough love. There’s more than enough joy. All of this begins to come through a mind that is aware of its own infinite nature. There is enough for everyone. If you believe it, you can see it, if you act from it, it will show up for you. That’s the truth.” - Michael Beckwith

“When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.” - Lao Tzu

“Everything you need you already have.  You are complete right now, you are a whole, total person, not an apprentice person on the way to someplace else. Your completeness must be understood by you and experienced in your thoughts as your own personal reality.” - Wayne Dyer

Here is my prayer for you today.  May you know that you are enough, that you are worthy, and blessed with a gift that allows you to be of much-needed service to this world.  The wizards in your life want you to succeed, and want you to be in their "club."  (And if you don’t believe this, act as if you do - with enough practice,  your brain will catch up).  

​

​This morning, as I ran, enjoying the beauty of the crisp, fall morning, and cheerily greeting the elderly neighbors out for their morning walks, I thought about the #MeToo movement that has replaced the show of solidarity with those taking a knee with NFL players (or not), and all of the #prayfor_____ in the wake of recent natural disasters and unnatural violence.  I ran by a few landscaping crews and bid them buenos dias as I thought about this latest hashtag/meme, and what it means for me personally, and what I think it says about the current state of our culture. (If you have no idea what I am talking about, click here: #MeToo).

Even before we all learned that it turns out that a famous, powerful man in a superficial industry is a total douchebag, I have spent many runs mulling over, and engaged in deep conversations about, what I really think is a sickness of the soul, a spiritually devoid world.  We are seeing the results of this disconnected, imbalanced state: climate change, mass shootings, preventable diseases linked to unhealthy lifestyles, skyrocketing rates of anxiety and depression, addiction epidemic… 

As a coach, I often get in conversations with people who ask for my advice, that lead me to at some point say something about how we are basically the average of the 5 people we spend the most time with.  This works in terms of finance, marital/relationship happiness, professional “success,” fitness, etc.  One of the reasons for this is that basically, when my peers think it’s OK to do something, I am more likely to tolerate it, become desensitized to it, even adopt it as my own value, goal, norm.  Perhaps this is one of the reasons that it took so long for Harvey Weinstein to be called out - from everything I have heard, including stories from people I know who have insider knowledge, the casting couch is a given in Hollywood.  It became the norm. In the same way that it is (I hear) the norm to binge drink if you are in sales or on Wall Steet, or you take performance enhancing drugs if you are a pro cyclist, or you are quick to prescribe pills to your patients who complain of deep physical or emotional pain. 

The whole inequality and the associated violence, and how it came to be this way, is certainly complex, and it’s not really what I want to write about today.  With these big, overwhelming topics, I like to in my mind, begin with the wide lens and then start to focus in, drilling down to the point of examining how this all affects me, and even more importantly, what can I do about it?  My most cherished role in life, today, is my role as a mom.  So, this becomes, for me, an examination of the question, what can I do so that my kids do not become part of the problem, or to the extent possible, victims of it?  What sort of groundwork can I lay, so that my daughter is less likely to be one of the 10% of college students who are sexually assaulted, and my son doesn’t become an insensitive, abusive asshole? (Actually, either of these possibilities could apply to either of my children).

Because I recite the Serenity Prayer at least twice a day, I am often filtering my actions through the lens of what can I accept, and what can I change? So, with that in mind, I am trying to look at the state of the world, and my role as the mother of two children who are still in my realm of influence, and do my best (which sometimes is pretty lousy, but in that moment, it’s my best) to role model certain things, and engage in conversations with them about it.  I believe that the fact that I have spent several years practicing some level of mindfulness, and now I have focused almost two years on intentional recovery, I have a pretty good sense of some of the imbalances inherent in our culture and in our daily living as individuals in this western culture.  I have often said that our children are the canaries in the coal mine, giving us the first hints of a toxic environment before we are made aware.  The fact that kids are increasingly diagnosed with ADD/ADHD, depression, anxiety, and all kinds of other dis-eases, to me has always been a sign that there is something deeply off in our culture and it’s not just what’s in the ground or what they are watching. It’s complicated. So right now, where I am drilling down on, is what is most relevant to my own children, who are now teenagers.

We are living in a hookup culture.  For some areas or peer groups, it starts in middle school, for some not till high school, but most certainly, it is rampant in college (in the US at least).  

“Hookup culture is an occupying force, coercive and omnipresent.  For those who love it, it’s all sunshine, but it isn’t for everyone else.  Deep in the fog, students often feel dreary, confused, helpless.  Many behave in ways they don’t like, hurt other people unwillingly, and consent to sexual activity they don’t desire.  Campuses of all kinds are in this fog.  No matter the size of the college, how heavy a Greek or athletic presence it boasts, its exclusivity, its religious affiliation, or whether it’s public or private, hookup culture is there.”   (Lisa Wade in her book, American Hookup).

I hope that this latest hashtag (#MeToo) doesn’t just become another flavor-of-the-week-movement where women temporarily feel connected to something that feels deep and important, but don’t do anything meaningful with it.  Originally, the hashtag was intended to spread awareness about sexual assault and rape, and from what I can tell, many women have adopted it to point out how often they feel objectified and disrespected. I hope that women who have been victimized in ways that are prosecutable (FYI there is no statue of limitations on child molestation, so please go after those monsters!), feel empowered to do so now. 

This latest public conversation has incited me to write this blog entry, to share some of the stuff I talk about with my kids.  

1. What are your values?  Do you want to be kind?  Compassionate?  Helpful?  Take care of and respect your body?  Respect others’ bodies?  Be generous with your gifts, to do good?  Help those less fortunate?  Be a leader?  Have a career you enjoy and that rewards you financially?  You need to figure out your values, and think about them a lot.  Because you WILL be in situations where your values will be challenged.  You will be offered things.  You will feel tempted by things.  The people around you will either have different values, or not know what their values are.  And it is much easier to engage in behavior that goes against your values, if you don’t have clarity around them. In the heat of the moment, it is much more fun and easy to do the fun and easy thing, than it is to do the right thing.  Being solid on your values can help you do the right thing.

2. I believe that an unhealthy relationship with anything that gives us pleasure, allows us to escape and “numb out” - alcohol and other drugs, sex, social media, etc - is really just a symptom of a deeper problem.  At the bottom of it, I think, is a deep yearning for connection on a spiritual level.  Our soul is dying for something that fills the void, which can never be filled with anything that is man-made, found in a bottle or pill or Apple store.  This is why I try so hard to teach you about the importance of connecting with nature, with faith, with people who support you and love you as you are.  Dear daughter, and son, this is why I talk about the importance of looking beyond the happy, filtered masks people are wearing and posting, and why I talk about allowing feelings and emotions, and working through them.  

3. And yes, I talk with you about the science - how alcohol and other drugs affect your developing brain, often in ways that are irreversible. I also talk with you about the fact that if you start to rely on a buzz to socialize and enjoy social gatherings, especially if you start it now while you’re young, then you will have a really hard time socializing when you are older, unless you’re holding a cocktail or three. You are less likely to develop your personality and grow emotionally, if you start drinking in your teens. Anyway, you know from health class all the health reasons that picking up something I wouldn’t offer you is probably a stupid idea. So let’s go back to #1 - how would making these unhealthy choices feel to you, knowing your values?

4. Today’s hook-up culture may be fun for some people, but a lot of young adults are actually feeling pretty lousy from it.  A lot of girls who are behaving in a way that feels sexually permissive, or maybe precocious when it comes to alcohol and other drugs, are hurting deep-down.  They may have been abused.  Maybe things are really unstable at home.  Maybe they are really stressed-out by all of the expectations they feel placed on them, or are placing upon themselves. And you know what?  This applies to boys too.  Most adults, so certainly most young people, don’t talk about this sort of stuff, so you really don’t know what is going on for them, what motivates their choices.  So, my sweet son, I implore you to be careful with the girls you meet.  I know how good it feels to be flattered, to have the attention.  But please, remember that every girl, and when you are older, every woman, is a child of God, precious, like you.  She may not feel her worth, she may be acting or dressing a certain way, but please, just because it feels like everyone else is playing this game, try to come back to your values.  Be that trustworthy, caring, compassionate human you have been since you were born.  It is in your power to treat someone even better than they treat themselves.  It may not be easy, but it is certainly worth it.

5. To my sweet daughter (and, son, pay attention to this!)… sex, using alcohol and other drugs - are not, no matter what our culture wants you to believe, a way to express your power and equality.  When I was in England in my early 20s, a bartender at a pub told me that “ladies drink half-pints, not pints” of beer. A statement like that sounds super sexist (it is), but that is not the point.  What it really boils down to is self-respect.  Guzzling beer and hooking up (the hookup culture relies on alcohol - more about that later) are not feminist acts.  You have probably seen photos and videos on social media (I used to see it on MTV Spring Break broadcasts) of drunk party girls.  It is not attractive, and it certainly does not scream freedom or emancipation.  Consuming a drug (yes, including alcohol) that feels fun, lowers your inhibitions so it makes you feel brave, and eventually makes you feel like crap the next day because of how hard it is taxing your organs, and possibly, led to you placing yourself in situations you would never have done so sober, is not freedom, or power.  Likewise, sharing intimacy with someone you don’t know enough to really trust, leads to all sorts of drama and stress.  A lot of your peers are engaging and will engage in casual sex, because according to hookup culture, they perceive this as being necessary in order to have a social life and some social standing. It’s as important a social currency as the number of Likes and Follows they get.  But if you ask them, and they are brave enough to be honest, they will probably admit to being anxious about it all.  And this isn’t even taking into account all the diseases, social media shame, possible pregnancy… 

6. This is a dicey one to talk about:  personal responsibility.  Nobody has a right to hurt you, period.  But the reality is that it is up to you, to as much as is within your control, to not put yourself in certain situations.  And, while you cannot control someone else’s perception or opinion, I feel that I need to be clear with you about the reality of appearance when it comes to this.  The reality is, if a girl dresses a certain way, that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, it will invite attention. If you do not want that kind of attention, then wear something less provocative.  If you decide to wear the outfit, or behave in a provocative way, then you need to understand that there will be consequences, and you need to be mature enough to handle them.  Does wearing a certain outfit justify someone’s uninvited touching or worse? Certainly not! If you say no (and dear son, I hope you are paying attention to this too!), it is no.  The easiest way to deal with this is to not put yourself in this situation in the first place.  And again, alcohol plays a big part of this too.  Alcohol is the number one date rape drug.  When you are drinking, you are likely to make some judgment calls you wouldn’t normally, including putting yourself in a risky situation.  (Note:  many young and older adults who rely on alcohol are survivors of trauma - so if you notice any of your friends are drinking in a way that your gut tells you is “not right,” there’s a chance they are trauma (eg abuse) survivors - be kind to them).

7. Finally, let's talk about manners.  I know, what does that even mean any more?  It used to be, people listened to each other.  We looked each other in the eye, and if you were a kid and an adult was speaking to you, you looked at them, and you stifled the urge to reply defiantly (unless you were a teen and they were your parent).  You did not give up your dignity for the sake of attention/fame, or yell at people you didn't agree with.  Between popular music, social media, politicians, the Kardashians and their cohorts - well, there's a heck of a lot of people practicing bad manners.  You know how important good manners are to me.  You know what good manners are.  So, when in doubt, fall back on that.  Know your values, and know your manners. Trust me, this will simplify your life big time. 

I know things are really confusing right now.  Adults are kind of sucking at a bunch of stuff right now.  I know you and your peers don’t understand things like, is weed really bad, and if it is, then why are we legalizing it?  If it’s not OK to disrespect women, and have casual hook-ups, then why are the most popular songs on the radio, by celebrities we all love to follow, glorifying all of this?  Why are adults being so mean to each other on Facebook, when they tell kids to not be bullies, to be compassionate?  Why are they telling you not to drink or do other drugs, while they are guzzling craft beers and boxed wines every chance they get, even at school functions?  Kids, I am sorry.  I am just as confused as you are.  Actually, I am not confused. Dismayed is more like it.  But here’s the thing.  I believe you are our hope.  You guys, your generation - you can turn the tide.  I know we grown ups often complain about your generation, saying you are all constantly bowed down to the iGod, that you know more about the Kardashians than the Kurds, that you’re all dying from overdoses.  I guess there’s some truth to that, but I think you guys can be a lot more awake than my peers are or have been.  My friend Tim Walsh likes to point out how you have great wisdom available to you 24 hours in your iGods.  That can be powerful! I am often floored by how much you young adults are able to understand, learn, question.  You are far from lazy or on autopilot, when something interests you. And you are also, I think, in some ways more awake than my peers. I see signs that more of you are saying that sobriety is cool.  More of you are choosing to wait until marriage or at least a committed, respectful, loving relationship, for sex.  More of you are deciding to take a gap year rather than get plugged into the college conveyor belt.  More of you are exploring “weird” things like yoga, meditation, plant-based eating.  

It takes a lot of courage to be different, to behave in a way that feels counter-cultural. It can feel lonely (until you find your tribe of likeminded superheroes).  And that’s why it’s so important to go back to #1, above.  When we are clear about our values, and act accordingly, we know that we are living in integrity.  And trust me, that is the best feeling, at the end of the day.

Finally, I will leave you with this excerpt from Brene Brown’s latest book, Braving the Wilderness:

“In a hardwired way, the initial trauma and devastation of violence unites human beings for a relatively short period of time.  If during that initial period of unity we’re allowed to talk openly about our collective grief and fear - if we turn to one another in a vulnerable and loving way, while at the same time seeking justice and accountability - it can be the start to a very long healing process.  If, however, what unites us is a combination of shared hatred and stifled fear that’s eventually expressed as blame, we’re in trouble… It will take only a critical mass of people who believe in finding love and connection across difference to change everything. But if we’re not even willing to try, the value of what we’re fighting for will be profoundly diminished.”

For further information, I highly recommend:

American Hookup, The New Culture of Sex on Campus by Lisa Wade

The Mask You Live In (documentary) - I really believe this one should be watched by all parents, teachers, coaches, anyone who interacts with boys. And it should be discussed as a family.  We really are doing our boys a disservice if we are not being mindful of the lessons in this film.  And I believe that if we can learn from this film and allow it to inform the way we raise our boys, it will have a huge, lasting impact on the amount of violence and other sources of suffering in our world.

Miss Representation (documentary)

As I flowed through the poses of my solo yoga routine, I found myself choosing to do five sun salutations, one after the other.  I was not following any particular order of poses, or aiming for a particular goal for my workout today.  Physically, my intention was to strengthen my core, stretch as many muscles and tendons as possible, connect with my body which is in the throes of a marathon training plan.  I am training for my 10th (I think) marathon, which will take place three days before my 48th birthday, and as always, my goal is to show up under-trained, uninjured, and ready to soak up the energy that is unique to the Marine Corps Marathon.  I run about four times a week and break up the pounding with yoga, which I did today.

In the meantime, loved ones are being pounded by Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico, and other loved ones were terrifyingly shaken yesterday in Mexico City.  Here in the continental U.S., a couple of friends have sent out prayer requests in the last 24 hours, for a young man who was in a car accident and is now fighting for his life, and an older man who has just received a serious cancer diagnosis.  Not for the first time, I found myself being pulled into the tsunami of this world’s chaos and suffering, and while filled with worry and sadness and empathy, I also felt the need to help somehow.  But how?

I think the overwhelm of individual situations, not to mention the state of things in the broader landscape, can easily lead to fear and a sense of inadequacy, helplessness and hopelessness.  I am in my beautiful, comfortable home, it is a beautiful, sunny, warm day out, and the items on my To Do List are, quite frankly, not that important in the grand scheme of things.  Yes, boxes still need to be unpacked. Yes, a workshop session still needs to be designed for an upcoming retreat.  Yes, a book chapter needs to be written.  Emails answered, errands run, travel plans finalized.  And yet, knowing how many people, including loved ones, in areas I know and love, are focused right now on clinging to their most basic needs - food, shelter, safety - the things I am doing to ensure my and my family’s day is as smooth and comfortable as possible, seem really stupid. So, because I am doing my best, every day, with what I have on this God-given day, I ask myself - what can I do that is helpful, right now, with what I have?  This thought, feeling, action - is it helpful?

“Is it helpful” is one of those filters I have adopted as a mantra, when it comes to my words and actions.  It is really tempting to jump into negativity - complaining, blaming, criticizing, catastrophizing, dramatizing.  But is that helpful?  Sure, it’s important to vent, to release our thoughts and emotions, in order to transform them.  But the key is to do this with a select audience that can help us transform our shit by validating us and helping us feel heard and seen. In general, this audience is most likely a small group of (or one or two) super close friends or a significant other.  I have found that, especially with Facebook and other forms of media, social and otherwise, this healthy process is either misunderstood, or people are not engaging in it.  In other words, a lot of people are not asking themselves, “Is this helpful?” before posting or commenting or writing or speaking.  

As I started off what ended up being a sweat-drenching yoga practice today, I knew that what I was doing, was the most helpful thing I could do for the next 75 or so minutes.  Honoring and accepting my body.  Focusing on the experience, from breath to breath, of being in my body, in my space, in that exact moment.  Again. Again.  And Again.  Stretching my spine, clearing my head. Breathing in life, breathing out love.  I less pictured, more sensed, the people I know, and know of, who are in that primal space of fearing of losing what they hold dearest, knowing how fragile it all is, how little we can truly control.  I breathed in faith, breathed out strength.  I allowed the thoughts, images, feelings to pass through my mind, my heart, my muscles and bones, like waves that ebb, flow, crash, recede, always moving, never staying, controlled by a force much greater than us.  

My practice ended in stillness, my body ready to be quiet for a seated meditation.  Is it helpful?  Yes, I answer to myself.  It is helpful to connect with my body in a loving, supportive, challenging way.  It is helpful to prepare my brain to handle the day’s news, demands, surprises in a way that is more active than reactive.  It is helpful to give myself the self care that I need, so I can be more present and compassionate for those I love the most.  And yes, for those who challenge me the most.  I suppose that like anything, it is a matter of perspective.  I can choose to see my role in the world, right now, as not really making much of a difference.  No, I am not in a position, today, to protect people from harm’s way in the face of natural disaster or evil people.  But I choose to do what I can, right now, that I know to be helpful.  And I also choose to believe that if each of us behaves, in person and online, in a way that is helpful, for the greater good, then we are doing something that matters.  

If you need some ideas, these are some ways that I think are helpful actions that we can all do, today, right now:

1. Listen.  When in a conversation with a child, significant other, in-law, sibling, friend, co-worker, patient, student, fellow parent, neighbor, stranger - instead of thinking about what we are going to say next, or making an assumption of what they are going to say, or interrupting them with your own opinion or story, or one-upping them - just listen.  None of us do this nearly enough.  Including me.  Let’s all listen. Please.

​2. When posting on Facebook (social media), first ask, “Is this helpful?” If we are sharing a link, or giving an opinion, that we believe is going to change someone’s mind or “inform” someone about a hot topic (ie politically-charged), I suggest you not post it.  It is not going to change anyone’s mind, instead, it is going to alienate people whose minds you are trying to change, and it is going to strengthen the Group Think of your supporters.  In other words, you are merely adding to the polarization that you claim to dislike.  More helpful, I think, is to reach out to someone whose mind you are trying to influence. Reach out privately.  And then, rather than shouting at them, follow number 1 (see above).

3. Self-Care.  We need to take better care of ourselves if we are going to be helpful. This includes:  rest.  Go to bed at least a couple of hours before midnight (my mom always said those were the most important sleep hours, and I agree).  Get outside.  We are so disconnected with nature that it’s no wonder it’s rebelling.  Get the f--k outside! This is a beautiful world, so much more interesting and miraculous than anything you will find in the latest IOS update. Move.  Move your body, often, throughout the day. If you work in an office, pretend you’re a smoker, and make sure you get up at least once an hour and walk around, stretch the limbs, take deep breaths. Exhale like a smoker. Play! Don’t take yourself so seriously.  Life is hard, there’s some serious shit we all have to deal with, so give yourself a break and hang out with friends, yell encouragement to other runners as they pass you (they’ll be shocked out of their PR-chasing misery), wear a silly t-shirt. I could go on and on about self-care but I don’t think that would be helpful right now - this is long enough.

So, while “thoughts and prayers” may feel or be accused of being hollow and a cop-out, I choose to believe that keeping people and communities and the world in one’s heart and mind, in a way that stresses healing, strength, support, and compassion, is actually very helpful.  Especially when coupled with whatever helpful action we are equipped to take, right now, today, to the best of our ability.  

I hope this is helpful.

Anyway, I was on this bench, and a couple was headed my way. I had been playing this mental game with myself, guessing which store people were headed toward. I guessed this couple was headed to the liquor store (most people were). The woman sat down on the bench next to me, while her male companion continued on (to the liquor store). She didn't say anything to me but out of the corner of my eye, I instantly knew she was currently or had recently struggled with a combination of self-injury ("cutting") and drug addiction (injectibles). I turned to her and said hello, and started a conversation.


In the ten minutes we shared a bench in my quiet, relatively affluent little CT town, she shared with me that she struggled with bipolar disorder and a couple of other brain health disorders, and that she had stopped taking her medication but had just decided to put in for a refill. The man was her boyfriend, and she was grateful to him, she told me, for his patience with her. They had walked at least a mile, because his car "doesn't work right now." I asked her if she has children, and she became more sullen, admitting she has a daughter, who is being raised by her daughter's dad. She told me that her daughter was turning five the next day. She hoped to see her for her birthday. By now, her boyfriend was headed our way, so I asked her if she would consider going back on her meds, for her daughter's sake. She said that yes, she would do that.


The interaction sat with me for a while. Later that day, a friend of mine who is an ER nurse in another state, shared how pervasive alcohol and other drug-related incidents drive people to the ER. She often shares ER stories of young people (in their 20s, 30s, 40s) who are at end-stage liver disease due to alcohol, the stories most people don't hear about because usually if you think of this type of death, you are probably picturing old men. At least I used to do so. My friend also shared how dismayed she is by the lack of compassion on behalf of the medical staff, toward people who are suffering from the disease of addiction. When someone enters the ER with other chronic disorders, they tend to get a much better response from the staff, as well as the insurance company.


Not for the first time, it occurred to me how much today's epidemic of addiction to drugs (which certainly includes alcohol) reminds me of leprosy. Leprosy was first reported in 600 BC in India, China and Egypt. Since then, it has been considered a "curse of God," often associated with sin. It did not kill the person suffering from it, but it was chronic and seemingly endless, lingering for years, causing tissues to degenerate, deforming the body. People were terrified of leprosy and out of fear of contagion, shunned those afflicted with it - friends and family included. Well, then Jesus showed up and in his badass rebellious way, treated lepers with compassion, touching and healing them.


Right now, if you are paying any attention, you know we have this crisis in our country (the U.S.), where according to the former Surgeon General:


"In 2015, over 27 million people in the US reported current use of illicit drugs or misuse of prescription drugs, and over 66 million people (nearly a quarter of the adult and adolescent population) reported binge drinking in the past month. Alcohol and drug misuse and related disorders are major public health challenges that are taking an enormous toll on individuals, families, and society. Neighborhoods and communities as a whole are also suffering as a result of alcohol- and drug-related crime and violence, abuse and neglect of children, and the increased costs of health care associated with substance misuse. It is estimated that the yearly economic impact of substance misuse is $249 billion for alcohol misuse and $193 billion for illicit drug use."


The report also talks about the fact that in spite of the fact that most Americans have been touched personally by substance use disorder (either themselves or a loved one), "few other medical conditions are surrounded by as much shame and misunderstanding as substance use disorders. Historically, our society has treated addiction and misuse of alcohol and drugs as symptoms of moral weakness or as a willful rejection of societal norms, and these problems have been addressed primarily through the criminal justice system. Our health care system has not given the same level of attention to substance use disorders as it has to other health concerns that affect similar numbers of people. Substance use disorder treatment in the US remains largely segregated from the rest of health care and serves only a fraction of those in need of treatment."


A few years ago I wrote a blog entry about how every single one of us is at risk for addiction. Around then is when I started to question my own relationship with alcohol, especially as I was intrigued with mindfulness and was incorporating mindfulness into my daily living. Or at least, trying to do so. Increasingly, as I looked at myself, and others in various stages of addiction, I became convinced that addiction is but a symptom of a deeper problem. Around the same time, I acknowledged to myself that I have a primal need for connection. Social situations that feel frivolous to me leave me feeling empty and frustrated. Small talk, light reading (eg "beach books"), many mainstream movies and TV shows - complete waste of time and somewhat torturous.


There are many reasons people today are relying on glamorized beverages, pain relief in a pill or powder, and other means of creating a false connection with others, or a relief from their current uncomfortable state. That is a whole other blogpost. Today, I specifically wanted to point out what I see as our current collective moral weakness. I do not think it's a coincidence that as we as a society have become more reliant on technology, on acquiring STUFF, on looking a certain way that defines beauty and success - our rates of addiction are skyrocketing. We are spending more time consuming media than we are spending communing with our loved ones in nature. We may be incredibly connected in virtual ways, and in superficial in-person ways, but real, deep connection, that can only come from honest, vulnerable connection, seems to take a deep nosedive from the time a kid first gets an iGod until - well, I don't know.


It is crazy to me how cruel our society is to those whose brains have succumbed to the disease of substance use disorder, from people who share awful, shaming media reports about very sick human beings, to a medical system that sends these people right back out on the streets. I am pretty sure that if Jesus were alive today, He would be making the rounds of certain street corners, as well as places where lawyers, doctors and other people who are mired in shame because of their addiction, are hanging out. The way we blame, shame, ignore, incarcerate human beings who have often had a traumatic childhood or incident, are often extremely sensitive, and are now very sick - is indeed a society moral weakness. The way our medical system today is based less on prevention and healing than on saving and making money (I am referring to the system, not necessarily medical professionals - who, by the way, are often themselves engaging in potentially unhealthy behavior, and risk enormous stigma if they admit to it).


The problem today is rather overwhelming, and it is easy to jump into the blame game. The pharmaceutical industry, the ineffectiveness of the D.A.R.E. program, the government, disconnected parents, drug dealers, materialism, internet-based drug markets, Big Booze, genetics, football culture, peer pressure, stressful living, Mommy Time-Out Wine, company happy hours, college application, Boards, violence that results in trauma... Yes, it's complicated. It's all true. But blaming is not exactly helpful.


When that woman sat next to me on the bench, after talking with her for ten minutes I had a pretty good idea of which factors from the above list had led to her current condition. But what I felt she needed in that moment, was someone who was listening to her. Who didn't shy away, or at least as bad, ignore her. I do not know if she ended up getting another prescription for her brain disorder. Or if she went to see her daughter on her fifth birthday. I pray that she did. But in the time that she was in front of me, I did not pick up my iGod, or move away from her. I saw her. I don't know if it made any difference to her, but it did to me. If we could all do our best this way, I think maybe things may start to slowly shift a bit. We may not be Jesus, but we can certainly emulate Christ-like kindness and humility. I think maybe just doing that goes a long way in healing those who are ill, if not physically, certainly on the level of the soul.

I think that collectively, if we start to move toward a more spiritual approach to living, the shift will start to happen. Our fellow humans who right now are suffering, are the canaries in the coal mine, alerting us that we are totally out of whack in terms of priorities and values. We can all do our part, one human to another. And let's start at home- in the one home we will always have on this earth, our own body. Let us be kind to it, listen to it, move it, feed it what it needs, rest it. And then, let us extend that kindness to others. Stop judging. Stop making assumptions. Stop treating those with substance use disorders as if they were lepers.

I urge you to check out the following resources, if you want to do your part in this national crisis.


Book - Chasing the Scream (Johann Hari)
TED Talk - Everything you think you know about addiction is wrong
Addiction is a brain disease - presentation by Dr Ruth Potee

​Today is the last day of school in our area.  I love driving my 7th grade son to school, as in those ten brief minutes, we listen to his music of choice (usually Despacito – the original, sans Justin Bieber – or Me Rehuso), bopping around, chatting about stuff on our minds about the day ahead.  Today was the same, but as he got out of the car, he sadly remarked, “This is my last day at this school.”
 
Three weeks ago, my husband started a new job, with a new company, in another state. This opportunity came out of nowhere, and after much discussion, consulting with trusted loved ones and mentors, and praying that God would lead us or leave us wherever we were meant to be – we decided to jump. 
 
He first told me about the possible job offer around 9:30pm, as I was getting into bed. I still don’t know why he picked that moment, because we have been married for 20 years and he knows that when my ass finally lands on my mattress, I am no longer accepting any sort of conversation about life logistics.  I have set my brain in Airplane Mode just like my iPhone, which is docked down in the kitchen. 
 
Needless to say, I hardly slept that night (mental Airplane Mode is far more porous than on my phone, dammit).  We had so much clutter after 16 years here with a growing family and a huge basement – that thought itself paralyzed me. Our son had just, three days before, completely out of nowhere, earnestly asked if we were ever planning to move from this house, and I had answered, “Of course! Once you’re in college, Papi and I are off to the South of France!”  I had been half-joking, but this was horrible to my son’s ears and he broke down in tears. So, of course I assured him that there were no plans anytime soon to move, and I asked him why he was bringing this up now?  He replied, “I just really don’t want to move from this house. It’s the only house I’ve known and I love it here.” So I assured him he had nothing to be worried about.  Oops.  Turns out he must be some kind of clairvoyant (he is extremely intuitive), because now, as I tossed and turned all night, I knew I was going to at some point, if it got to where this move was a distinct possibility, devastate my son with the news that his biggest fear had manifested.  And his parents were the ones who were controlling that ship.
 
My brain jumped and tripped and perseverated on all kinds of thoughts that night, from the logistical (How does one move with a dog?  Will our daughter want to stay here and board at her school?  How ever will we afford a house in a housing market where everything costs triple?)  To the emotional (It took me so darn long to make friends here and now I am leaving them?!  When we lived in DC 20 years ago, we were young and unencumbered by parenting and domesticity – how would it be to move back to something familiar, yet so different?  Will I want to start drinking again?).
 
Even though I am a yoga instructor, and have a pretty consistent meditation practice, and know a lot of tools for dealing with a racing mind, anxiety, insomnia – I didn’t sleep much that night.  And I gave myself a pass.  I mean, when you’re thrown a big life curve ball, I think even someone with Dalai Lama cred (which I certainly don't claim to have!) has the right to flip out a bit. But once daylight came, and I had to do all those things we do to keep the household humming, I focused on what I have been focusing on since I decided, 1.5 years ago, that alcohol is not an option, if I am going to show up as the mom, wife, coach, friend, human I know I really am.  When things have gotten messy, or confusing, or overwhelming – I have focused on simply doing the next right thing.  I cannot control so many things in my life, but I can control how I choose to think, or act, in this moment.  And then, I can make that choice again, in the next moment.  And so on.  So, at some point, I figured, recovery work is just like yoga!
 
I had to bring up yoga here because today is International Day of Yoga.  Yippee!  Celebrate by striking your best asana (pose).  I celebrated today by teaching my weekly class at one of the most beautiful spas in the world, and I even snuck in this quick photo before my students arrived.  (My daughter and I follow several travel bloggers on Instagram and I decided to pretend I have this life like they appear to have, of traveling round the world and not having to pay for it, or bother with flight delays and other hassles – so I have some photos in my Insta that show how glamorous my life is between driving kids around and the endless meal preparation that is part of parenting. Check it out @mindfulpreneur).

​So, there are so many things I have come to appreciate and love about yoga.  I started yoga because of the physical benefits, how it could enhance my triathlon training and competing.  At some point, most markedly when I experienced PTSD after a dog attack, I started to comprehend why so many of my students had shared that my classes helped them profoundly with their depression, anxiety, PTSD, etc.  In addition to studying the physical benefits of yoga, I learned about the ways that yoga (uniting movement with breath) works on the central nervous system, helping release the effects of trauma that was never dealt with in a physical way.  I also started to understand what they mean when they say that what happens on the mat, you can take out into your life off the mat.  When we are in a yoga practice, we are practicing in the way that an athlete trains hard and consistently, so that when she is in a tournament, the mechanics are automatic, due to muscle memory.  Yoga is the same way.  I don’t mean that if someone offends you, you automatically assume your best Warrior pose (though by all means, try it – if nothing else, the offender’s surprise may diffuse things).  I mean, in yoga, we become aware that nothing is permanent.  Even though it may seem that plank in my class is infinitely endless, it too, shall pass. We also learn to be curious about our body – what is it telling us?  If we have no energy, or we are chronically sore somewhere – rather than staying stuck in judgment and self-loathing and inadequacy, what is this experience, through our body, telling us about the way we are living? All this stuff we learn - seeps out into our life off the mat as we deal with life.  Turns out the way we flow through yoga, can teach us about how to flow through life.
 
Alright, enough about yoga.  Now to the other detour – recovery.  By the way, I am not a big fan of the world “recovery.”  I see where it comes from and how it can be helpful, but I think it only tells part of the story.  And it doesn’t apply to everyone who wakes up to the realization that their relationship with a substance or behavior, is unhealthy and has outlived its usefulness.  But for lack of a better word (that’s another blogpost), let’s stick with “recovery” for now. So, when we decide to change, and that’s basically what recovery is – letting go of one way and learning and adopting another way – if we really think it through – what it will entail, how it’s done, what might be on the other side – holy crap, that is overwhelming.  So, on the day that I decided, enough is enough, I am taking a break from drinking – I did not think of it as a forever thing, because that was way too overwhelming.  I chunked it down.  No booze for a week or two.  This wasn’t a big deal as I wasn’t physically addicted, and I had done this before, preparing for races, etc.  Eventually, the chunks got a little bigger as I became more confident and started to realize that because I was diving into recovery work through books, podcasts, growing my sober network, this did not feel like a sacrifice or like deprivation.  So, it became a way of life for me.  Something that was unfathomable just months beforehand was now my default.  Small, consistent steps, chunked down - had let to big transformation, which is still underway. 
 
Back to our move.  We decided to make the move.  My husband, the quintessential project manager, made a list of all of the stuff that needed to be done to get the house ready to be put on the market.  This list alone was terrifyingly long and overwhelming.  And it did not include all the other stuff that would have to be investigated and completed, to do with the kids’ schools, finding and purchasing a new home, tying up ends with my own work and classes.  Daunting, to say the least.  So, the last six or so weeks since we started this transition, I have more than ever, been relying on the Serenity Prayer (God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference).  I have been focusing on, Do The Next Right Thing.  This Too Shall Pass.  It hasn’t been perfect.  Some days have been super stressful, with momtrums, marital conflict, exhaustion, chaos.  A few days ago, when in the middle of it with my 16-year-old daughter, I stated in a voice she would probably consider “yelling” – “This is what’s called ‘adulting’ – not drinking alcohol or being able to drive a car – but doing all this shit that is annoying, unpleasant, and necessary.” 
 
A few days ago, a friend pointed out that it must be super stressful to always have to have a clean house, ready to show to possible buyers.  I thought about it, and realized that while yes, it is stressful to have this added layer on my day, and being ready to change my schedule instantly so that strangers can walk through my home and judge it ("This is a really nice home but it's too unique for us, we need something more cookie-cutter") – in reality, now that the dust has settled (literally) and my husband’s Punch List has been completed, I often find myself feeling relaxed and grateful.  Even serene.   

"Sometimes our lives have to be completely shaken up, changed, and rearranged to relocate us to the place we're meant to be." (Unknown)

I suspect that the above quote has less to do with a geographical relocation, than a more existential state.  I guess I will let you know, once the dust has settled in the next state along our path, but for now, I sit in the uncertainty of what lies ahead, in the midst of a huge life transition for me and my family.  And I am going to do the next right thing, and spend too much money on huge containers of treats at Costco, for my son's going away party that just a few months ago, would have been his worst nightmare.

Our beautiful home... now on the market

Pausing in the chaos to meditate

​I have a crazy story to tell you, that started mid- October and came to a head this week.  But first, this.
 
Yesterday on Facebook, I posted a picture of myself holding a certificate that had just arrived in the mail – my USA Triathlon Youth & Junior Certified Coach certification.  I had already been certified back in 2010 to coach adults, but this youth certification is a new offering by USA Triathlon and since I have been coaching kids since 2010, I am thrilled to have this newest proof that I somewhat know what I’m talking about.

​I hesitated to post the photo of my latest accomplishment, though.  Some of the hesitation came from the “is this bragging?” filter, but most of it came from the “what will this post attract?” filter.  What I mean by this, is that every time I post something, I am conscious that on some level, it is influencing how I am perceived – how people on some level think of me in terms of what interests me, what I am seeking, with whom I like to hang out, what choices I make, what I am all about.  Even, what opportunities to throw my way.  So, before I hit “post,” I asked myself, “do I want to be labeled as a triathlon coach?”  And, of course, this is a silly question at this point, because if anyone knows me or follows me on Facebook or has read any of my blogs over the last several years, you know that I have been doing triathlons since 2005, even competed in a triathlon national championship and have qualified for it several times but only bothered to do it once, and I have been coaching kids via ACHIEVE and Race4Chase Youth Triathlon programs since 2010.  I have finished two Ironman triathlons.  I love triathlons.  And yet, I hesitated when it came to posting something that I felt would be like getting an Ironman tattoo, which I never did – I think I am one of the only Ironman finishers who doesn’t have a tattoo.  I never wanted the tattoo for several reasons, but one of the main ones is that I have always felt that while I adore triathlon and triathletes and that whole subculture, it doesn’t define me. It’s something I do.  It’s a means, not a destination.  It’s a bridge.
 
And here is where my crazy ass story starts.
 
Back in October, the kids and I were wandering round Manhattan waiting for Bill (my husband) to get off work.  We were crossing through Rockefeller Plaza when a scruffy guy came up to us and asked if we would like a free NY hat. Of course, my inner skeptic kicked in, because we all know nothing is free, especially in NYC.  We also know that people coming up to you in an area that is mobbed with tourists, are probably looking to scam you in some way.  And, as a mom with kids in tow, obviously I had to role model to my kids how we handle these kinds of situations.  So I politely declined the offer, and was about to shepherd the kids across the street, when I decided to really look at this guy.  And I was surprised to note that atop his scruffy blond head sat an Ironman hat.  Not just Ironman – but Kona – as in, world championship.  The race that you need to be practically superhuman to qualify for, or at least be ridiculously lucky and win a lottery bib. People were already crossing the street but I had to ask.
 
“You’ve done Ironman?”  I don’t know if John (I would soon learn his name) detected my incredulity, but I am pretty sure he’s used to people making assumptions about him so it didn’t faze him.  See, this is totally stereotyping, but most male triathletes who roam the planet with an Ironman hat, are clean-shaven (their heads often included in the ritual), have a certain physique that shows through whatever moisture-wicking shirt, and have this really intense (cyborg-like) look.  I can pick them out of a crowd in a heartbeat.  When I was at my coach certification trainings, for adults and now for this youth one, the rooms were filled with these intense humans. John looked more like a surfer who was scamming tourists for money to buy weed, than like the typical Type A triathlete.  So I had to hear his story on how he got a hold of the hat.
 
With tourists swarming around us, in a rush to cross the street, we stood at the curb and he told me his story.  He had just done Ironman in Kona.  He qualified for it (because it turns out he has done several Ironman triathlons), but he actually, on top of showing up, raised $50,000 for a little boy dealing with cancer.  I admit, I was still skeptical at this point.  My kids were getting impatient.  And then he turned to my kids and said, “You kids should appreciate your mom. She’s awesome.  I had a really rough childhood.  My dad was an alcoholic and my brothers and I were so abused that we got taken away and put in a foster home.  And that was awful too – we were abused so badly.  And then we were put in a group home and that was terrible – we were bullied, beaten up.”  So, at this point, I was totally intrigued, but at the same time, I was aware that my kids were standing there, and who knew what they were thinking about this weird stranger that had their mom intrigued, who said he was giving out NY hats for an optional $5 donation that would go to a soup kitchen?
 
And, I was still skeptical.  The story got even better.  John started getting into serious trouble on the streets. He was constantly in fights.  He got into drugs and was selling them.  He was arrested.  A lot.  And then at some point he got into punk rock.  And that was the beginning of his transformation.  And he was led to the Hare Krishnas.  Which then led to yoga, veganism, sobriety, triathlon…
 
I think we stood there for about twenty minutes, talking.  His story was incredible.  So much, so that I didn’t totally believe it.  But something compelled me to stay, to ignore my kids’ impatience, to listen to this man.  So, of course, I did the logical thing and asked him if he was on Instagram.  When I asked this, I still thought he was some bum who had found or stolen an Ironman hat and had an amazing imagination and personality.  On some level, bringing up Instagram was a test – did he have an account? Was he really an Ironman, a member of a famous punk rock band (a genre I know nothing about, beyond the Sex Pistols and the Violent Femmes), spending his days raising money for kids with cancer and soup kitchens?
 
He told me his Insta and I looked him up right there and followed him.  He took out his phone and followed me back. I looked briefly at his photo and thought, well, it does look like him.  But he could totally have made this account up for the purpose of scamming tourists of $5.  (I know, I am even embarrassed to write this).  Then he asked, “Do you know who Rich Roll is?”  I said sure, he’s the vegan ultra-runner who used to be an unfit, alcoholic lawyer, and now has inspiring books and a great podcast.  So John now opened his Twitter app and scrolled to Rich Roll’s account and gleefully said, “I am one of his most popular podcast guests.  Check this out.”  And sure enough, Rich Roll tweeted a link to a podcast episode with John Joseph, stating how this was his highest rated podcast episode. 
 
At this point, I didn’t know what to think – but I did know that my kids had had enough, and that this man, whoever he was, was one of the most compelling people I had met in a long time, and even if he was scamming me, I was going to hand over a decent bill out of gratitude for his entertainment.  We took a selfie and shared a hug, and then my kids and I finally crossed the street.
 
I mulled over this interaction, and a few hours later pulled out my phone and looked at John’s Insta more closely.  “Holy crap!” I showed Bill and the kids – “That guy John has well over 20k followers – I guess he wasn’t bullshitting me!”  We all had a good laugh, and I pointed out to the kids something deep and meaningful to the tune of, you really can’t judge people based on their appearance, and it really is worth it to pause and have a conversation, because everyone has a story, blah blah blah (I think they only heard the blah blah blah part).

​So, soon after that, I looked up his Rich Roll podcast interviews and listened to them (I think at that point there were three episodes – he is that popular a guest – as of today, Rich as interviewed him five times). His story is incredible. Listen for yourself. So, you could leave it there – fun story, another hero in our midst that I got to bump up against, another door opened because of the commonality of triathlon, and then really widely swung open because of our common passion for yoga, staying sober, eating plants.

But no, that wasn’t the end of it.

A couple of weeks ago, I was out running with my friend Sandra. At some point, she started to tell me about a friend of hers, who lives in our small town, a woman named Diane. Diane started running 5k’s a few years ago and has now done a few marathons. She runs to raise money for the Child Tumor Foundation – her four-year-old son has neurofibromatosis (NF). Sandra went on to say that last year, Diane was diagnosed with Guillian-Barre syndrome, which rendered her quadriplegic. And then, against all odds and medical predictions, Diane recovered and ten months later completed another marathon. Sandra shared with me that she hoped that Diane would have her other son participate in the Race4Chase Youth Triathlon program this summer, since she believes he would love it. I marveled with Sandra how strange it was that I had never met Diane – we have some mutual friends, we are both runners. I told her I had read Diane’s story in the Patch, and I had even shared it on my Facebook Reboot Coach page – an inspiring hero in our midst!

So, this is where John Joseph comes back into the story. This week I had a long drive to a treatment center where I was teaching yoga to people in recovery from brain health disorders/addiction, so I decided I wanted to listen to one of the latest Rich Roll podcasts as I had two in my queue. It turned out that one of them was John Joseph – again. So I started to listen – and was again blown away by him. This time, he really got into some stories about his horrendous childhood. He just published a book, The Evolution of a Cro-Magnon, which unlike his previous book Meat is for Pussies, is about his childhood – and how he has overcome extreme adversity. I immediately ordered the when I got home. Near the end of the interview, Rich pointed out that he (John) is going to do Ironman Kona again, and John confirmed this, and added that he is once again doing it for the little boy with cancer. He then went on to say that they found some more tumors on Alex’s spine, and that he really wants to support Alex and his family, whom he has grown to love. And then, John went on to say that Alex’s mom has an autoimmune disease that left her paralyzed, but she worked her way back and ten months later did a marathon!

When I heard that my jaw dropped. What?!?!?! As soon as I had parked, I looked it up. Could this possibly be the same family? Is it possible that this guy I met while wandering round NYC last fall, whom I almost dismissed for reasons most people would have kept walking after a polite “no thanks” – is it possible that he raised $50,000 for this little boy whose mom is good friends with one of my dear friends? I looked up Diane. Then I sent John a message, asking if this was the boy he was once again raising money to support? Affirmative. This was the same family.

I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe that God puts people in my (and your) path for a reason. I also believe that every day, we all have opportunities to make these connections. Often, we are too busy to see the opportunity, or if we do, we say no – we are too busy, too rushed, too self-conscious, too uncomfortable, too fearful. Totally normal. And I can’t help but wonder, how many times has an amazing opportunity passed us by, because we chose not to be open to it? We stood on one side of the bridge, but dared not step onto it.

I looked Diane up on Facebook and sent her a friend request. I saw we had over 20 mutual friends and didn’t bother to look up who they were because I rushed off to the next domestic task, so I assumed our friends were all local moms and runners.

But Diane noticed a mutual friend and sent me a message – how did I know this other woman, whose name is also Diane? Once again my jaw dropped. This mutual friend, Diane J. – I met her when I was in Brussels three years ago, visiting my sister. Diane J. is one of my sister’s best friends over there, a fellow ex-pat. It turns out Diane J. is Diane’s cousin! In fact, today Diane sent me a photo from a shower she was attending – of herself and another young woman. I sent the photo to my sister in Brussels, who has no idea all of this story has been happening (I am enlightening her with this blog entry) – and my sister said she knows the girl, how do I have this photo??? The young woman is a good friend of her daughter’s (my niece’s).

​Suddenly, the world is indeed a small place.  It was once said that we are all separated by six degrees, but with social media, I recently read that we are actually now separated, on average, by four degrees.  How many times have we had the opportunity to knock off one of those degrees, or all four of them, simply by crossing a bridge?  Every interaction, real or virtual, is a potential bridge. When I changed my pace during last year’s Labor Day half marathon in New Haven, CT, to chat for a few minutes with an acquaintance and she mentioned a woman in my town who runs to bring awareness about and funding for NF, that conversation planted a seed. When I stopped and talked with a total stranger wearing an Ironman hat in NYC, that planted a few more seeds.  I don’t know where these seeds will lead to, but I suspect it will be an ongoing, long-term journey of seed-planting.  To me, running and triathlon and yoga and everything else I do, is not a bucket list item, an end goal or destination, or a source of identity.  Rather, each of these endeavors, which I am passionate about and seek to bring more people into, is merely a medium – a bridge – to something else.  To connection.  This crazy story is a tangible, graphic illustration of the ways that we can forge connection, once we are open to it.
 
A few days ago, a neighbor told me how sad he is that we are moving.  He described me as a bridge (yes, he actually used that word), saying that I had connected so many people in our area with each other, and with people from other communities – people who would not have otherwise met or have thought to get to know each other.  It truly meant a lot to me to be thought of that way. 

​Yesterday, Diane and I met for the first time, in person.  She came to my house for lunch and we chatted for almost three hours.  I don’t know why God decided to connect me and Diane a mere month before my family and I move away from this area we have called home for 16 years, but as I make plans now to introduce my other friends to this incredible woman, who truly is a living, breathing example of steadfast faith, hope, perseverance and love – I suspect new beautiful bridges are being built.

Love is the bridge between you and everything.
- Rumi

​Here in CT, our spring weather is either chilly or scorching, which I have learned after being here for 16 years – and as I moved forward over what ended up being six miles, I thought about how good it felt to be running on a hot day (by then it was somewhere in the 80s).  Running in a tank top and shorts, my skin and hair thirstily absorbing the vitamin D, I joyfully watched the cardinals, blue jays, chipmunks, and butterflies as I ran past farms, along the dirt road. This was my idea of heaven.
 
Meanwhile, next to me, my dear friend Marni ran along, and in her head, this situation pretty much sucked.  Marni hates running in heat. In fact, she has about 3 degrees of comfort, and one degree above or below that comfort window is intolerable for her. But we had a lot to catch up on, and she knows that I am a sucker for a run (I don’t think we have ever met for lunch or coffee unless I was meeting her near her office), so being the good friend she is, she hung in for three miles as we chatted.
 
I decided to turn around and do another loop after dropping her at her car – because it just felt so good, and the landscape was so serene.  And as I ran, I chuckled as I thought of Marni’s zig-zagging across the farm road, as she chased any shady spot under trees.  I began thinking about how different we all are – our sensitivities, what we enjoy, what we find intolerable, what motivates us.  How differently we are all designed, physically, emotionally, mentally, either from the moment of conception, or because of the lived experiences that have shaped us into the people we are today.  In particular, I was thinking about this when it comes to exercise. 
 
A few days ago, a friend was bemoaning the fact that she hasn’t felt very motivated to run, and when she does run (on her gym treadmill), she feels blah.  She was wondering why this is, and how can she improve her running?  I get this sort of question all the time.  “I feel like I’m losing my mojo. What’s going on?”  “I had such a great run last week, and today I ran again and it sucked. Was my great run a fluke?”  “I am training for my first half marathon and I am getting tired of running” or “I feel some aches I never felt before.” 
 
When I first moved to this town, I rarely saw anyone outside on foot, and now, it’s rare that I don’t see someone out running no matter what time of the day. It’s really cool – I love how this town has become such an active, fit community, even hosting several 5k’s every year.  Each year, a few people from our area participate in the Boston Marathon, because they are fast enough to qualify. With Lake Quasapaug nearby, and its top-rated triathlons (Pat Griskus and Rev3), we really do live in New England’s version of Boulder, CO, in my opinion. So cool!
 
The downside, though, is that it’s really easy to get caught up in the belief that if we aren’t doing it too, then we are lesser than.  When I first started participating in running races, I didn’t have a single friend who did it. Also, there was no Facebook or other form of social media, so I was just doing my thing, with no one the wiser. I had no one to compare myself to.

When I started doing triathlons, back in 2005, I did not know another triathlete. I trained alone, picked my races on my own, went to them alone.  Back then, it was what I needed.  My kids were young (i.e. very needy) and I got my much-needed sensory break during solo training sessions.  I preferred my training sessions to the actual races, which I found (and still find) stressful – in part, because of all of the chatter among triathletes about how unprepared they are (which is generally total bullshit, by the way).  Yes, even people who train like it’s a part-time job still feel it’s “never enough.”
 
Today, everyone and their grandmother is doing a marathon or half Ironman or longer.  And I don’t think this is a good thing.  I have written before about intuitive eating, where we learn to tune into our bodies to give them what they need in terms of food and liquids.  Too often, our signals have gotten crossed or hijacked because of what we have been brainwashed to believe is the “right” way for us to look, which is supposedly a direct result of what we consume.  The same has happened with exercise.  We are designed to move often, throughout the day, every day.  That is what is best for our physical, mental and emotional health.  And yet, rather than think of exercise that way, we replace intuitive movement with exercise gimmicks and gadgets that are basically a huge industry that while often well-intentioned, really ends up leading to our feeling inadequate, and often, injured.  
 
If you read my blog, Facebook and Instagram posts, or know me personally, you know that self-care is basically the 11th Commandment in my “religion.”  Thou Shalt Self-Care is as important as Thou Shalt Love Thy Neighbor.  So, we embrace whatever exercise program or activity we choose. After all, that is self-caring, right?  But the thing is, at some point what started off as a healthy habit, can become another source of stress, addiction, dysfunction.  Sometimes we picked the wrong type of exercise for us, because it’s what our friends are all doing or we want those Pinterest abs, or it’s what we did 20 years ago so surely we can work out way back to where we left off.  Sometimes, we picked the right type of exercise – we enjoy it, or at least enjoy how we feel afterwards – but then we start to feel like a fraud because our friends are doing it longer, faster, lifting heavier weights, got accepted to Cirque de Soleil, qualified for Boston Marathon, etc.  Meanwhile, we are forked after three miles, or can’t do tree pose without holding onto the wall for dear life.  So now our Self-Care either becomes Self-Torture as we force ourselves to “push through the discomfort” because surely we aren’t trying hard enough, or it becomes Self-Disgust because the bitch in the attic is having a field day with our “failure.” This is not kind.  Self-care is about self-compassion, so when our "healthy" habits start to feel more like yet another way to bully ourselves, something has gotten out of whack.  And our body, in all of its wisdom, is telling us so.
 
Every summer since 2010, I have had the privilege of coaching kids ages 5-13 to become triathletes, at the Race4Chase Youth Triathlon summer program.  It’s not only a privilege, it is downright awesome.  I love coaching these kids, because they remind me of what we adults lose as we get older and become more inhibited, self-conscious, governed by the messages around us rather than from within us. When a kid has had enough, s/he will stop, slow to a walk, or take a break and try again.  They generally do not really care so much about split times, about what they “should” be doing, about following The Plan.  They really are coming from an intuitive place.  Don’t get me wrong -  it is often trying of a coach’s patience, as I find myself challenged by what I perceive as whining or an unhealthy intolerance for discomfort (“suck it up, buttercup!” does apply to certain situations).   But I find their innocence and self-acceptance so refreshing and a great reminder of how important it is to achieve some sort of balance in this area.
 
So, as I set out yesterday, on the second half of my run, I thought about how much I respect Marni for knowing her limits and for being unapologetic for her lack of wanting to run longer, and I checked in with my body to see how it was feeling (great) and with my intentions (a desire to spend a bit longer in a space of gratitude for the beauty around me, and the good health and strength within me).  I thought about smilepacing, the philosophy I made up back when I started doing triathlons.  My fellow triathletes would have strategies and metrics, but this was all too anal for me – I just wanted to keep going forward, as fast as I could while still smiling.  I paced myself based on feeling joy, gratitude, and playing with that edge of pushing myself while honoring where I am today.  I kept running - smilepacing.
 
If your workouts are feeling blah, or you don’t feel like signing up for an event, or showing up to it, ask yourself – could your body maybe be fatigued from over-training, from doing the wrong kind of exercise for your body type or fitness level or personality or lifestyle?  If you are running longer distances (eg longer than 3 miles), could you maybe benefit from sticking to shorter spurts of higher intensity, or maybe doing walk-run workouts such as those recommended by Jeff Galloway? Maybe you are comparing your chapter 2 to your friend's chapter 10?  If you “know” that yoga would be really good for you, but you are “not flexible enough” or “too hyper” have you tried different yoga classes (taking a yoga class and deciding "yoga isn't for me" is the same as trying chocolate ice cream and not liking it and deciding "I don't like ice cream" based on one flavor)?  Or, maybe the right type of exercise for you right now is actually not a program or plan or membership of any kind.  Maybe you just need to move more throughout the day.  Maybe you need to be outside more, and feel the wonders of nature on and around you.  Maybe today’s self care means letting go – of plans, comparisons, expectations.  Maybe you need to figure out, what can you do to smilepace today?  (Unless you are sponsored by NIKE and your family is supported by your athletic career – then this may not be the blog for you- yet).

The world needs more kindness and compassion.  Let us start at home - in the one home that will be with us for the rest of our lives - our beautiful, resilient, patient, wise, strong, healthy, perfectly imperfect body.

This past weekend, I sat in a swanky hotel lobby in lower Manhattan, waiting for five friends to come down from the meeting room where one of our event's keynote sessions had just concluded. Women were descending into the lobby in groups, pairs, or alone. They were happily chatting, punctuating their sentences with laughter. They were in their twenties, all the way up into their golden years. Dressed in suits, yoga pants, and everything in-between. They were, on the whole, gorgeous. Any observer oblivious to our reason for being there would have assumed it was a health and fitness conference of some sort. I suppose it was, if you really think about it. We weren't learning new workout methods or sampling the latest supplements, but our work was indeed all about profound, long-term wellness - the kind that outlives the latest fitness trends and whose only membership requirement is willingness. I thought, as I gazed out at these women, my sisters in recovery, this is the hottest ticket in town, and any smart people who want to meet a woman with depth, faith, wisdom- should be sitting in this lobby right now. (Seriously - if you are on the market, stay tuned to the next #SheRecovers conference!).

Of course, unless you are yourself in recovery, you may not know that someone who is actively working on their sobriety (not to be confused with merely abstaining from their addictive behavior or substance) is such a good catch. Stigma is real, and I got to experience if first-hand a couple of weeks ago. I was running errands and an acquaintance came over to me to chat. At some point, she told me she was really angry with me when she heard I was in recovery from alcohol, because I had "put her daughter in danger" when she was in my presence. I was shocked by her assumptions, and angered, especially because she did not seem interested in hearing the truth (to be fair, she wasn't mean, she just wasn't interested in listening). I thought of this unpleasant interaction as I experienced this past weekend's gathering with 500 other women who were dedicating themselves to figuring out what led to their seeking solace in a bottle, a pill, disordered eating, abusive relationships, while doing the hard work it takes to avoid making the same mistakes. As I marveled on the wisdom I heard and saw and felt from these women, some of whom have become cherished friends over the past year, I thought about that misguided woman who probably was voicing the fear felt and lies believed by those who are not in recovery. I thought, gosh, if only more people knew how important these voices in this room are, not only to help others struggling with addiction, but indeed, to help this insane world that is only becoming more and more imbalanced and disconnected. If only more of us were in a position to come forward and show our faces, and live our recovery out loud! How f-ed up is it that so many of us are afraid to come forward?!

About 25 of us went for a run at 6:30am on Saturday, before the conference resumed. Yes, 6:30am on a Saturday. In NYC, party capital of the world. I point this out because if you are holding any stigma, I want you to ask yourself, if you were in a swanky hotel for 3 days in NYC, would you be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:30am on Saturday, when your conference doesn't begin till 10am? Sober is badass. In fact, I kind of hate the word sober, because it sounds so... sober, as in serious, subdued, "showing no excessive or extreme qualities of fancy or emotion." As our colorful, blinking (Heroes in Recovery had donated bracelets with blinking lights for our run), smiley, and eventually, sweaty group made our way along the Hudson River, the only thing sober about our jovial tribe was our livers and other alcohol-and-other-drug-free organs. As I would be several times throughout the weekend, I was struck by the thought that if I had know that this was what living the sober life looked and felt like, I may not have postponed it for so long! While I may not have hit any shocking rock bottom, in fact I probably drank about as much as you do, if all your alcohol-glorifying Facebook posts reflect your attitudes toward alcohol and its ability to enhance celebration, soften the edge, escape the ugh - I definitely feared that aspiring for long-term sobriety would pretty much sentence me to a life of prudish, unremarkable, convent-worthy behavior. Gosh, I couldn't have been more wrong. At some point I thought of Karl Marx's statement that religion is the opiate of the masses, and thought how today, alcohol is the opiate of the masses! What a privilege, and so much fun, it is to be a part of this community that one day at a time, is choosing to live in a way that is thoughtful, mindful, conscious. To move through the world awake.

The thing is, I can't blame that woman for her assumptions about me. Just like I can't blame myself for having made assumptions about what sobriety would be like. We don't see enough examples, or hear from enough people, of what exactly recovery looks like. The wonder. The camaraderie. The fun and laughter. The glow. The courage and strength. THE CONNECTION. The freedom. The authenticity! Most of us are only privy to the examples of dis-ease, and how it manifests itself, with usually only the extreme examples making their way into the public eye. It has often struck me how absurd it is that very often, addictive behavior happens openly, especially if it involves alcohol, a socially-sanctioned drug, but once we cross over to sobriety and recovery, we hide in basements and private chat rooms. No wonder most people don't have a fucking clue about two very important points: 1) you don't have to be a hopeless drunk in order to decide that alcohol is stupid and needs to be questioned and 2) choosing sobriety and working on recovery is an incredibly powerful, empowering thing to do, for yourself and for the world at large. It's the most badass thing you can do. Don't get me wrong - it often isn't nearly as pretty as the women on the stage or in the audience of She Recovers NYC. The recovery journey often feels - and probably looks - just as awful as mile 20 of a marathon. But that's a good thing, because it means we are no longer running from stuff or denying it. The only way to get to the glory of the "I did it!" Is to keep going, one foot, breath, day at a time. And holy crap it's worth it.

Here are some of the nuggets I got from our keynote speakers:

"Sobriety is no bullshit... To people not in recovery it means not drinking, but it's actually much more than that. It's figuring out who we were before the world told us who we were supposed to be."
- Glennon Melton Doyle

"Anything that I use to escape a perceived intolerable reality, is something that can turn into addiction."
- Nikki Myers

"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional. It's in the story I make up about the event."
- Nikki Myers

"I drank to feel the way other people look."
- Elizabeth Vargas

"We should be grateful for all the situations that make us uncomfortable, for without them we wouldn't know what needs to be healed."
- Gabby Bernstein

"Say nice things to yourself, because you're the only one listening."
- Gabby Bernstein

"Suffering gives you x-ray vision into the suffering of other people."
- Marianne Williamson

"This will pass one day, and I will embrace this pain because of the person I will be because of having gone through it."
- Marianne Williamson

"If you desensitize yourself to your own suffering, you desensitize yourself to others' suffering - and then the whole world suffers."
- Marianne Williamson

"It's a process, but at some point it becomes spewing. At one point it's 'allowing our feelings,' but at some point it becomes self-indulgence."
- Marianne Williamson

"The psyche has an immune system just like the body. And grief is the bulwark."
- Marianne Williamson

"We are so concerned about the chemicals in our gut, but not the ones we are putting in our brain."
- Marianne Williamson

If you are wondering if sobriety is something you should explore, perhaps start by asking yourself, why not? Sometimes one of the biggest obstacles standing between us and what we need to do for our health and happiness, is actually stigma. The assumptions we have about something we really don't know much about, which causes fear. For example, since I began my recovery journey, I have learned that the only thing that all of us in recovery have in common, is the fact that we were engaging in behavior that gave us a shameful, sinking feeling. The actual quantity or frequency was irrelevant - for some of us it was daily, for others monthly. For some, it was gallons, for others, occasional glasses. But if we could have some way to measure the sinking in our souls, we were pretty much in the same tank of ugh - or headed that way. If this is striking a chord with you, listen to it. That is your truth speaking. Follow it, or at least notice it. And if you want to explore any of this, please reach out to me. You don't have to do this alone.