What is Forest-Bathing (Shinrin-Yoku)?

When I first heard about “Forest Bathing,” I had a mental image of a claw-footed tub situated among moss covered stones and babbling brooks. Was it part of some sort of elegant outdoor spa?

Forest bathing?

Definitely not!

Forest bathing, or Shinrin-Yoku, began in Japan in the 1980s when the government chose to acknowledge its population’s stress epidemic. What could be done? How could they provide the entire country with a solution to work-related anxiety?

The Japanese government commissioned its scientists to dig deep (pun intended) into studies relating to the health benefits of spending time in nature. After all, Japan boasts a lot of incredible – and incredibly varied – parks and outdoor spaces. 

What scientists discovered, and what is consistently confirmed by subsequent studies, is that time in nature is actually very beneficial to the human physiology, and the human psyche. Inside and out, spending up to 2 hours of uninterrupted time in direct contact with nature can lower blood pressure, calm anxiety, encourage deeper sleep at night, and help balance many of the body’s natural rhythms.

Shinrin-Yoku can be translated “taking in the atmosphere of the forest” or “bathing in the atmosphere of the forest” – hence, the term Forest bathing!

I had the opportunity to participate in a Forest Bathing experience, led by a certified guide, while Sam and I vacationed near Burlington, Vermont, last week (US training for sanctioned Forest Bathing guide certification began in the early 2010’s). The guide, Duncan Murdoch, led us on an incredibly revitalizing session across Shelburne Farms.

Two hours of various exercises (or “invitations”) giving us permission to directly encounter and interact with nature using all of our senses – exploring what we saw, what we heard, even what we could touch! I was much reminded of my own instinctive meditation training.

Everywhere I turned, I felt like I was reconnecting to the wonder and marvel that I experienced as a child playing in my own backyard. One of the culminating moments of the experience found me crawling through the grass on my hands and knees, all the way up a hill where we watched the sun set across Lake Champlain, over the Adirondack Mountains. It was heavenly.

Lake Champlain – August, 2021 (Not the site of our Forest Bathing – but still so inviting!)

When’s the last time you took time to pause in nature and look around you?

Have you noticed how many different colors you see?

Have you stopped to watch all the movement we often overlook – the busy birds and insects, the wind in each branch or blade of grass?

Have you listened to the sounds of nature, or to your own footsteps outside in the grass or even on the pavement? 

When’s the last time you put your ear to a tree and heard the creaking of its upper branches swaying in the wind?

A full two hours of uninterrupted time in nature is said to give you an entire month’s worth of benefits. Try getting outside and finding a “sit spot” (a place to sit and witness nature) the next time you’re able, and just bear witness!

Happy bathing!

Don’t forget to subscribe to my e-mail list, to take advantage of free community meditations!

Sheltered-in-Place: A Year at Home

How do you celebrate the anniversary of sheltering-in-place?

What moments stand out in your memory when you think back to a year ago, when cities – even whole states – suddenly shut down?

For us, it began the 12th of March. I remember standing in the kitchen, not feeling well, expressing my doubts about whether or not I was feeling up for seeing the show for which we had got discounted tickets that evening. It was The Inheritance, part 1 (we had tickets to part 2 on Saturday). My husband texted me back – “No theatre tonight.” I replied, well, I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to wait to make a decision in case I started to feel better.

But he replied no, that it wasn’t up to us. There was no theatre that night. Or for the next few… weeks? Months? We didn’t know.

Times Square, Spring 2020

But I had tickets for us to see both parts of The Inheritance, as well as excellent mezzanine tickets to Six, which was to be opening that night (we planned to see it the following Tuesday). And suddenly, those plans were gone.

I had yoga teacher training sessions that weekend, and we all discussed what would happen if the studio had to shut down. “It will only be a few weeks.” “It’s just like the flu – we shouldn’t worry.” What did we know?

It was the last time I’d use public transportation for almost a year. I started working from home the middle of that week – it was a slow period for my job in events for an education non-profit (little did I know just how slow it would be) – but we didn’t expect that we’d be told to continue working from home, or how long it would take.

It would be months before I went back to my office to get anything I left behind.

But, that first week, before the shut-down mandate, two things happened.

Firstly, my husband celebrated his 39th birthday, and our plans to gather with friends were cancelled as we began to grapple with the reality of what might be happening to our city.

Secondly, once the news hit that NYC would be entering a shutdown, I recorded and broadcast my first guided meditation.

(You can watch it here)

This week, both of those things come full circle, and I get to step back and consider where I am – where we are – in this moment in time.

I remember writing “Happy Birthday, Sam!!!” on the blackboard wall we painted in our kitchen. I was so excited for everything we’d planned – for his birthday, then, and for the rest of the year. Travel, celebrations, performances, family.

I left those words on the wall of our kitchen for an entire year. At first, I did it because I was sure the celebration was just on pause, and we’d be gathering with friends and picking up where we left off, soon enough.

But soon, it was clear that we wouldn’t be “in the clear” for months, at least. So I left it as a reminder for us to look forward to coming through to the other side of the pandemic. There would be things to look forward to!

But also, I left it there to remind me of what I had, and what I was lucky and privileged to have. Someone with whom to share this experience.

This is an image I shared soon after the decision to shut down NYC – I saw a lot of panic and frustration and anxiety… and probably felt all of those things, too, myself. I scribbled it quickly on a sheet in my journal and took a picture. And then, on the 20th of March, I put out a guided meditation… a meditation that I would end up sharing now every Friday evening as part of a regular guided meditation session I’ve been leading since this past December. (The Loving-Kindness meditation, which I wrote about here!)

There have been ups and downs, but this Friday I get to lead that same meditation again, and yesterday we celebrated my husband’s 40th birthday – family members calling in on our new Alexa devices – and I gave him a damp rag and let him wipe the blackboard clean.

Time to look forward to what’s next. Spring, and the Equinox, are arriving at such a perfect time.

Daffodils last week in Morningside Park

And now, the important questions…

How have you been this past year? Have you found ways that helped you cope during the pandemic? What has helped you? I’d love to hear about it!

Also, click here to join me for my ongoing guided meditations!

I have quite a few photos of the past year, and might dedicate another post just to some of the things I discovered while working from home during the pandemic! Stay tuned!

The Senses Declare an Outrageous World!

If someone stopped you on the street and asked you, “How many senses does a human being have?” you might wonder why they stopped you on the street for such a silly question… because of course you’d probably answer with the number most of us grew up learning: “5.”

Thanks to Aristotle, we’ve grasped that there are 5 basic senses: Sight, Smell, Hearing, Taste, and Touch.

But what if I told you the human had 21 senses? And that these included such subtle senses as Pain, Motion, Balance, Temperature, Joint-Awareness, and even Breath (oxygen levels – the sense that we need to breathe), or Hunger (blood sugar levels – the sense that we need food). Check out a chart here with lists of these 21 different senses.

But what if that person asked you a second question… “What’s your favorite sense?” Would that strike you as a bit… odd?

In the Vijnana Bhairava Tantra, an ancient yoga manual for meditating through direct lived experience, the Sanskrit word used for “the senses” is Indriya, which loosely translates as “companions to Indra” (king of the gods), or “companions of the divine.”

The senses are divine!

The Radiance Sutras is Dr. Lorin Roche’s poetic translation of the Vijanana Bhairava Tantra, and speaks beautifully to the divinity of the senses. Formatted as a conversation between Bhairava, or Shiva, the Supreme Consciousness, and his lover/consort Shakti, the energetic Embodiment of Creation, the text is comprised of several verses, or “sutras,” and each one is a way to dive into meditative awareness; and, as opposed to other meditative philosophies that speak of shutting out or denying the senses, The Radiance Sutras is all about the senses.

Consider the opening lines to sutra 9:

The senses declare an outrageous world –
Sounds and scents, ravishing colors and shapes,
Ever-changing skies, iridescent reflections –
All these beautiful surfaces
Decorating vibrant emptiness.
The god of love is courting you,
Light as a feather.

The Radiance Sutras (2014), Sutra 9

By allowing ourselves to encounter the world through the senses, and to enjoy what we encounter, we’re able to mindfully connect more with ourselves and with the world around us. For those who are more spiritually minded, this is a connection to the divine within!

But just listening that opening line, about the “outrageous world,” brings to mind all the taboos against sensuality. What are we allowed to “enjoy”? What are we not allowing ourselves? What if something feels too “worldly”? Too “sexual”? Too “sinful”? Think of all the messages we tell ourselves about the senses. “Guilty pleasures,” we sometimes call them. What message are we sending ourselves when we can’t even enjoy full sensory experience?

One of my favorite people to follow on Instagram right now is Colin Bedell, aka @QueerCosmos, and a good friend of mine highlighted one of his posts to me recently, about desire. Talking about the recent Mars transition into Gemini, he quotes Esther Perel, psychotherapist and best-selling author, who defines desire as the “owning of the wanting.” What “wants” do we have that we’re afraid to “own”? Colin asks, “Are there particular wantings in my life that I need to own with more self-acceptance and authenticity?” Recognizing that we need to make space to acknowledge ways in which policing and surveillance have taught us not to act on certain desires we wish we could express, he takes the astrological opportunity for us to give voice to desires by asking ourselves, “Who do I want to be? To do what I want to do? And to have the results I want to have expressed?”

Colin’s point applies brilliantly to much more than the subtle world of the human sensory experience, but I felt the connection! There is joy and freedom in encountering the world through the senses and allowing ourselves to give in to that “outrageous world” that we might otherwise shy away from, shutting off some of our own potential and growth. How does my experience with and interaction with the world of the senses reflect who I want to be? What I want to do? The results I want to have expressed?

So… What’s your favorite sense? What’s your favorite sensory memory? What senses do you love that others might find “outrageous”? What have you been calling a “guilty pleasure”?

Allow it! Close your eyes and breathe it in. Marinate in it. Find that brief meditative experience through your encounter with “an outrageous world.”

Give yourself permission to luxuriate in all the senses this week!

#SpringIsComing

Ring out, bells of Norwich, and let the winter come and go
All shell be well again, I know.

Love, like the yellow daffodil, is coming through the snow.
Love, like the yellow daffodil, is Lord of all I know.

~ "Julian of Norwich," a song by Sydney Carter (based on the writings of Julian Norwich)

One of the benefits of working from home during the pandemic is that my husband and I now take walks every day, instead of scrambling to get on a crowded subway – and we get to engage with the natural world much more intimately. I’m grateful to have been able now to have witnessed all four seasons, up close.

And as we walked through Morningside Park earlier this week, my husband pointed out the green tips of the park’s army of daffodils starting to push through the surface of the earth – a signal that the world is waking up from its cold slumber.

And then, just as we left the park, I happened to glance through the iron fence, and saw this marvel:

Morningside Park, NYC – January 25, 2021

“It’s confused,” my husband said. We laughed, but still we were still in awe. After all, this was the very first Spring flower we had seen, appearing naturally in the cold earth. I’m sure its blossoms didn’t survive the winter mix we had the very next day, or would survive the snow we’re supposed to get later this weekend. But still… it was a sign!

If you’re not familiar with the pagan/Celtic calendar, next Monday, the 1st of February, is celebrated as Imbolc, one of the cross-quarter days that exist between the solstices and equinoxes (it’s also celebrated as Brigid’s Day, St. Brigit’s Day, and Candelmas).

Imbolc lies halfway between the Winter Solstice behind us and the Spring Equinox before us. Imbolc, from a word which could mean anything from “ewe’s milk,” to “in the belly” (referencing pregnancy in animals) to “ritual cleansing,” is when we celebrate our seeing the natural signs of Spring approaching. Ewes start to give milk, reassuring farmers with another supply of food after a long winter, and signaling the start of the reproductive cycle of nature. It’s the perfect time to get a jump on Spring Cleaning!

And, what else happens around this time? The very first Spring Flowers begin to appear.

This little daffodil, this brave, mighty symbol of the slow approach of warmer weather, reminded me of the sacred connection many have with another beautiful flower that blooms in what we’d argue are less-than-ideal circumstances.

For anyone who may frequent, or even occasionally visit, yoga studios, you might be familiar with the story of the lotus flower. Lotuses are everywhere in Yoga and Buddhist imagery, and feature in lots of meditations, mudras, and even chakra imagery.

What’s so special about the lotus? Check out this Zen proverb:

“May we exist like the lotus,
At home in muddy water.
Thus, we bow to life as it is.”

Zen Proverb – Source Unknown

You see, the lotus seed roots itself in the mud and scum of the river bottom, or the bottoms of ponds or flood-plains, rising up through the murky water to blossom above the water, in the open air. These beautiful, full, multi-petaled flowers are in contrast to the dark and unpleasant conditions that might exist beneath the surface. Thus, to be “like the lotus” is to allow ourselves to grow through the murkiness of our own lives and blossom in spite of the mud, in spite of the supposed darkness.

How is the daffodil like the lotus?

Like the lotus, the daffodil is struggling up through ground that symbolically appears almost inhospitable – the dark, murkiness of the pond, and the cold, hard Winter ground.

Like the lotus, the daffodil symbolizes the ongoing cycle of nature, regardless of the circumstances. Both the lotus and the daffodil “bow to life as it is,” and blossom, anyway. Even, like the daffodil, when there is the threat of weather that might destroy that blossom.

Like the lotus, the daffodil shows us what is to come. We don’t see the lotus growing in the muck until we see the flower appear above the water. We don’t see the work of the daffodil growing in the Winter ground until it starts to grow and bloom above the surface.

So, going into the next few weeks of winter, keep your eye out for those first flowers of Spring as they appear in the ground. I encourage you to take walks and keep looking for them, and celebrate when you find them. In the spirit of Imbolc, instead of seeing only the mud, the “final weeks of Winter,” know that the flowers are doing the work, and it’s only a matter of weeks before we see the hard work turn into the cornucopia of Spring!

St. Nicholas Park, Harlem, NYC – April 2015

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Happy New [Moon]!

2020 was something, wasn’t it?

Not to disappoint, I ended the year with a round of coronavirus. I started feeling ill and had a low fever on the 29th of December, accompanied by aches and waves of fatigue. The fever went away, and I wasn’t sure even that it was COVID, until everything came back with a vengeance the following Sunday, just after the start of the New Year, and I went to get tested. The test came back positive.

I’m one of the lucky ones, to be sure. I only had a mild case, with nothing affecting my lungs. Still, the fatigue, and the unrelenting achiness, and the massive headache – even a mild case is something I would not wish on anyone. Sadly, I have lost friends to much more severe cases, and many others who have family that have succumbed, as well. To those who lost family or friends to this virus, my hearts are with you. Let’s all continue to be safe! The end is in sight!

But I’d had a whole “Yule + New Year” themed post planned for that week, with musings on the transition brought on by the Solstice and how the newly extending light of the Sun impacts (for me) the intentions I like to set for the New Year…

But, here we are!

And, the importance of shifts, of changes, of growth… it’s all still happening!!

Tonight is the first new moon of the New Year, and it’s a New Moon in Capricorn! If you don’t know what that means, this is the PERFECT time to take stock of our intentions for the new year. New Moons are all about rebirth, and Capricorn is a practical sign, a determined sign, so now is the best time to approach our to-do lists [and our hopes & dreams for 2021] in a rational, responsible way!

Take a thought to how things may be changing or shifting around you. What do you want to get done this week? Maybe it’s something you’ve been putting off, or a project you can’t wait to start. Maybe there have been internal shifts, meaning you need to pause and sit with yourself, and see where you’re growing, and where you may need to do some weeding! 

I invite you to take the time you need to show yourself some loving-kindness and compassion (not that you need anyone’s permission but your own). Listen to what is changing or shifting, and let go of what is no longer serving you. We got this! … or, we will!

***

I’m starting back into my guided meditations this week – just dipping my toe back in – and welcome you to join me!

See my schedule here!

And thank you to all who joined me on this journey and donated to my cause – we raised $150 for the American Nurses Foundation’s Coronavirus Response Fund for Nurses, and motivated others to donate to other charities of their choice, or reach out to those they knew who were struggling. However we could pay it forward, we ended the year doing a lot of good!

And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Loving-Kindness Meditation + Reiki

Hello, friends!

I want to invite you all to a special meditation tomorrow evening (Friday, December 18), in collaboration with Reiki master Autumn Mirassou, of Autumn Reiki.

I’ll be leading the “loving-kindness” (or “metta”) meditation tomorrow at 5:30 PM (EST), and Autumn will be directing Reiki energy to all of us on the call. (Questions about Reiki? See below or leave me a comment and I can connect you with Autumn!)

Hope to see you there!

Click here to go to my sign-up page, and use “8912” to sign up!


I’m accepting donations, but while they aren’t necessary, everything given to me this month is being donated to the American Nurse’s Foundation’s Coronavirus Relief Fund, in honor of our frontline workers – my sister being one of them!


What is Reiki?

Many refer to Reiki energy as Universal Life Force Energy, and the practice of Reiki healing is Japanese in origin, first brought to our awareness by Mikao Usui in the 1920s. Healers transmit this life force energy into their clients, most often through the hands – but Reiki operates outside the confines of time and space. In fact, I received Reiki from Autumn virtually during the pandemic, and it was just as thrilling an experience as meeting her in person!

You’ll actually find Reiki healers at many hospitals employed to help induce relaxation and reduce stress, with an end goal of helping to heal the body, mind, or spirit. Studies are continually providing evidence of Reiki’s effects on the human body and psyche.

I hope you’ll consider joining us on this journey, and perhaps joining me for future meditations. I’ll start providing a schedule of them, here!

Stay well, everyone – and Blessed Yule!

What the World Needs Now… is Loving-Kindness

I’ve recently begun leading group meditations.

It began after a weekend meditation module of my 300 hour yoga teacher training recently, at Sonic Yoga, when I was offered the opportunity to lead the class in meditation. I chose one of my favorites, a variation of the Buddhist “Metta” or “Loving-Kindness” meditation, as it had been taught to me by Lauren Hanna.

My teacher, Sarah Ireland, encouraged me to continue this practice, and share this with more people. We agreed it was so important right now.

With people going back to periods of isolation, a time of shutting down and shutting in during a time when most families want to be together – a time when, statistically, people already struggle emotionally – a meditation of compassion would be so important. And I’d shared it before, during a similar time.

When NYC first announced that it would be shutting everything down, back in March… back when people were beginning to be sent home to work remotely, businesses, gyms, restaurants, all were closing, I shared this exact message in a video I sent to YouTube.

The variation I learned starts out like this:

May I be filled with Loving-Kindness.       
May I be Well.       
May I be Peaceful, and at Ease.       
May I be Happy. 

Other iterations are shorter. Pema Chödrön , in Comfortable with Uncertainty, and The Places That Scare You, puts it simply:

"May I enjoy happiness and the root of all happiness."

Repeating this phrase, or these phrases, over and over, you bring that feeling of comfort into your self, showing yourself compassion, wishing yourself well. It’s often a very difficult practice on its own, but it doesn’t stop there.

Once you feel saturated with loving-kindness, it’s time to turn that feeling outward. This outward focus is exactly why I felt the meditation was so useful for these uncertain times. The mantra (as it was taught me) then becomes as follows:

May you be filled with loving-kindness.
May you be well.
May you be peaceful and at ease.
May you be happy.

Pema Chödrön  similarly replaces the “I” of the phrase with “you,” or with the name of a specific person… because there’s a process!!

  1. Direct the meditation toward yourself
  2. Direct the meditation toward a loved one
  3. Direct the meditation toward friends and/or acquaintances
  4. Direct the meditation toward strangers, or people to whom you feel indifferent
  5. Direct the meditation toward someone with whom you are in conflict
  6. Direct the meditation to all of the above
  7. Direct the meditation out to “All Beings”

It sounds like a long process, and it can be, especially when often you feel you can’t get past #1. And that’s 100% okay. There is no rule that says you need to feel so full of loving-kindness all the time that you can always send it out to other people. We must take care of ourselves, first and foremost.

Which brings me back to why I feel it is so important for this time.

We need to show this loving-kindness to our Self. I capitalize Self because I equate it with the Soul – the spark of the divine in each of us (spoiler: it’s the same spark… but that’s for another post). We need to be able to show love and comfort to our Self, and allow our Self to be happy.

And then we need to share that message – to practice empathy. To understand how we’re all connected.

Like the song says, “What the World needs now is Love, sweet Love.”

I think I know what she means.

To you who are reading this right now,

May you be filled with loving-kindness.
May you be well.
May you be peaceful and at ease.
May you be happy.

If you’d like to be receive weekly emails with my group meditation info, vist the “Contact” page on this site, and drop me a line with your address!

“A Change… would do you good”

Why does a “change of scenery” often do us good?

My husband rearranges the apartment furniture every six to nine months. Sometimes, in the past (pre-COVID), if he were working from home a particular day, when I wasn’t, or if I had a yoga class or teacher training one weekend, I might come home to a completely different living room or bedroom set-up. (I often joked that the only place we haven’t moved our bedroom is in the kitchen or the bathroom, and I’m waiting for the day I come home to one of those scenarios).

But why we often do that to our living spaces, or to our lives (our hair, our faces, etc)?

“I got restless”; “I got bored”;
“I got tired of seeing it the same way for so long”

That last one… that one hits home to me in many ways.

We recently sat down and watched a movie – typical comedy with a poignant message (no, it wasn’t on Hallmark) where one leading character is being told by their friends to “wake up,” start being honest with themselves and appreciate what they have, and we all see it coming… the tragedy that snaps them “back to reality.”

“Maybe that needed to happen”;
“I’ve learned not to take life for granted”;
“I’ll treasure what I have from now on”

Roll credits.

Sound familiar?

But as we were watching this play out, I realize that way too often a tragedy is what snaps us back to reality. We can be going along, living our lives, thinking we’re living to our fullest… then a family member dies. Or we lose a furry friend. Or we get sick, or an accident of some magnitude befalls us.

And we suddenly think “Oh, yeah. I need to pay more attention to what I have.”

I don’t want to harp on the old adage of “We never know what we had until we’ve lost it,” although I’m sure that’s mostly true.

I remember the next morning, on our daily walk, telling my husband that I want to make sure that we give our senior dogs more focused attention – I don’t want to feel, when they pass away, that I didn’t spend enough time with them, or took them for granted.

But it’s not all about tragedy. Because I wonder if that sense of wanting to “be aware” of what we have is why we sometimes make changes, too. We feel stuck, we can’t “see” where we are, or don’t feel present or awake in our own lives. So we change something.

Come to think of it, I was feeling stuck about our apartment recently, myself. Not the furniture, just the sense of having a home and making sure I appreciated it. The walls we painted, the beautiful 12-foot pre-war tin ceiling in our living room. And so, I was thinking the exact same way about our apartment lately, and we decided to decorate early for the holidays. And you know what? Suddenly our apartment feels new again. I feel like I can really pay better attention to it – and it feels refreshing!

I’m curious about how we can have that feeling, that alertness, that “being awake” to what we have feeling, without tragedy striking, or without having to make a massive overhaul of our lives – those can be necessary, but shouldn’t be the only way we feel alive!

I think this is what “mindfulness” is all about.

Being mindful is all about being as present as possible – being aware of what you are seeing, what you are hearing, what you are sensing – at all times. Feeling your feet on the ground beneath you. Your eyes as they take in this information (the weight of your glasses on the bridge of your nose and on your ears – if you wear them). The weight of your arms on your lap or on your desk or table – the feel of the mouse under your hand or fingers. The light overhead. The light outside the window. The tree you pass on your daily walk. The warmth of the sun. The warmth of your coffee.

What are you doing right now? How do you feel? Where do you feel expansion when you inhale? Where do you sense your exhale the most? The chest? The belly? The nostrils?

What color are your walls? Your floor? Are you sitting comfortably? If not, where do you feel discomfort? What are you doing today to interact with your home, or to move your body?

Sometimes change is the easiest way to recognize what we’ve had all along. Sometimes it’s negative change… sometimes it’s not. But maybe we can work toward keeping ourselves awake to what we have, and to the present moment, more often. Maybe then, we won’t carry so many regrets with us if tragedy ever does strike.

A New Year’s Meditation

Happy New Year!

Today marks not only the first day of 2019, the birth of a new year, but the rebirth of countless people around the world who strive to keep “New Year’s Resolutions.”

Funny – Humans have been making resolutions in some form or another for at least 4,000 years, writes one contributor to the History channel.

Back then, the Babylonians (whose year began in what we’d consider mid-March, when crops were planted) made promises to the gods, expecting good fortune if their promises were kept throughout the year.

The Romans adopted this idea, as well, and the very month of January is named after the Roman god Janus, the two-faced god who faces both into the past and into the future, perhaps symbolizing both the reflection on the past year and the hope and promise of what the next year might bring.

Janus, god of beginnings and passages

The 1700s found Christianity adopting the practice of keeping night vigils of prayer and reflection, lasting all night into the morning on New Year’s Day – A practice that is still found in many communities, today.

We’re hardwired, it seems, to see beginnings of any kind – such as the start of a new calendar year – with mixtures of awe, hope, apprehension, and reflection. And, though now a secular tradition, we still strive to make promises to ourselves. Only about 8% of people keep their resolutions, apparently, but it’s striking that after all this time, we’re still making them, even if we know many will fall by the wayside.

The marked passage of time must affect us on a deep level, to spark the desire to make such promises.

This brings me to a poem by a favorite poet of mine, Billy Collins. In his brilliant way, he captures the universal with the mundane, and questions this new year’s day, and what it means to us all.

Is it a second birthday? Is it a day to dread, or to look forward to?

To me, it’s a time I know I can meditate on and re-dedicate myself to living wildly, blooming where I’m planted, showing gratitude and love to the Universe and to those around me, and keeping fresh and new the love I share with my husband.

What about you?

May you have the happiest of years, starting today. Happy New Year!

New Year’s Day by Billy Collins
Everyone has two birthdays
according to the English essayist Charles Lamb,
the day you were born and New Year’s Day—

a droll observation to mull over
as I wait for the tea water to boil in a kitchen
that is being transformed by the morning light
into one of those brilliant rooms of Matisse.

“No one ever regarded the First of January
with indifference,” writes Lamb,
for unlike Groundhog Day or the feast of the Annunciation,

New Year’s marks nothing but the pure passage of time,
I realized, as I lowered a tin diving bell
of tea leaves into a little ocean of roiling water.

I like to regard my own birthday
as the joyous anniversary of my existence,
probably because I was, and remain
to this day in late December, an only child.

And as an only child—
a tea-sipping, toast-nibbling only child
in a bright, colorful room—
I would welcome an extra birthday,
one more opportunity to stop what we are doing
for a moment and celebrate my presence here on earth.

And would it not also be a small consolation
to us all for having to face a death-day, too,
an X drawn through a number
in a square on some kitchen calendar of the future,

the day when each of us is thrown off the train of time
by a burly, heartless conductor
as it roars through the months and years,

party hats, candles, confetti, and horoscopes
billowing up in the turbulent storm of its wake.

from the book, “Ballistics,” © Random House 2008

3 – 2 – 1 … Write!

I learned a new word a couple months ago.

Agnosiophobia

Heard of it? I hadn’t.

Agnosiophobia is the fear of not knowing.

To me, this means not knowing enough – not knowing the best way to proceed – not knowing how to do things correctly, so that you don’t look or sound or seem like a complete fool.

It might also be the reason I obsessively learned German before visiting Austria for the first time (a little bit different than learning Gaelic for fun before visiting Ireland, ha ha…). I just did not want to look foolish or be caught like a deer in headlights simply because I didn’t know what to do or what to say.

If you don’t know enough German, here’s a word that encapsulates what I’m talking about:

Entschuldigung (ent-shul-di-gung)

What does it mean?

Literally, it’s closest to saying “Excuse me,” or “Sorry.”

Of course, I found I didn’t need to excuse myself as much as I had expected I would – partly because more people at least understand English than expected (though it’s best not to have the highest of expectations in this regard), and partly because, well, things are always so much easier than expected when you’re in the thick of it… and if they’re not easy, then you at least know that those excruciating bits have an ending point, and you always end up learning something to make your next experience less awful.

Like two nights ago when a cashier’s register broke down and she couldn’t see how much I owed her, and I didn’t know how to tell her the numbers, in German, to help her. So I went back to the apartment where we’re staying and memorized the patterns of German numbers… my husband caught me counting feverishly to one hundred under my breath before getting out of bed the next morning.

😅

… Did I mention the fear of not knowing?

Honestly, the fear of not knowing is the reason it took so long for me to finally write another blog entry, earlier today. I was afraid of not knowing how to start again. Afraid of not knowing what to write about. Surely I’d look foolish if I simply picked up where I left off, right?

But I’ve learned a few things since I last wrote here. Things that helped me shut that voice up – the one that tells me not to bother, since I’m so afraid.

Firstly, the following quote from Carrie Fisher comes to mind:

Be afraid. But “do it anyway.”

But… there is more to it, right? I mean, those of us who battle depression or anxiety know that it isn’t just as simple as “do it anyway.” And I know Carrie Fisher would probably agree, that this little soundbyte isn’t enough to jump start our minds when they’re frozen in fear.

Enter Mel Robbins:

Knowing what to do will never be enough.

It’s not as simple as “Just do it.” If it were that simple, we would all have everything we want. There’s something really foundational that has to happen before we can take action, and that is that we must learn to conquer our own feelings.

Wow. This really hits the nail on the head, right? Mel Robbins created the 5 Second Rule for this exact reason – pushing yourself to do something, with a simple action that can actually make it possible.

When you feel yourself hesitate before doing something that you know you should do, count 5-4-3-2-1-GO and move towards action.

There is a wealth of information about this rule, which you can find here, but suffice to say this really, truly works! It’s all about acting on the few seconds before an idea turns into inaction, and the physical actual countdown kicks your mind and body into gear!

Today, I left my journal behind before a 2 and a half hour train ride. I thought, “Well, now I can’t write. Sad face.” But then, I remembered my blog, and my fear of picking it back up… and that fear reminded me of Carrie Fisher’s words, and thanks to Mel Robbins, I knew what to do.

And I’ve applied it to my German-speaking experiences, too, here in Austria. I might not know what to say, or whether or not they speak English, but I just take a deep breath and…

5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1 – GO!