deep love/grief ocean

i'm swimming.  barely.  but finally i've been able to take a breath.

i still can't really admit to myself that tobias is dead. when i talk about him, i use confusing verbs so that it is not clear that his physical form is no longer walking around on this earth.  i say things like "he was living in london," "we've been dating for 3 years." my mouth just can't form the words that actively refer to him in the past tense. (and so, dear reader, please accept some occasional present tense verbs.) 

my metaphor for my grief is one of an ocean--the waves beating me down and holding me under for days at a time.  and then there's a moment where the waves subside and i swim up.  i breathe.  i feel the sun.  i even float for a moment, wondering how i could have forgotten that this was even possible for me.  and then, in a second, without warning, i'm slipping back under. or i'm pulled by an undertow, and, even though it's scary, by now it's familiar.  and something about that feels comforting as i am pulled back under.  i think "i knew it was too good to be true, that i could be coming out from under this overwhelm."  and, simultaneously i know that i don't actually want to come out from under it--some days i choose to dive into the depths of my grief.  because i don't want to forget tobias or his love in my life.  i don't want to be "all better" because that might mean that i can't feel his presence here with me any longer.  

in the days when i hadn't heard from him and hadn't heard confirmation of what had happened to him yet (i know, i know, vague language here), i felt him with me so strongly. and in the days following, i continued to feel him around me, especially when i was moving energy through dance. and my fear of losing that became so intense. i felt like if i acknowledged the reality of the situation, the feeling of him dancing and twirling around with me would dissolve. my therapist suggested that i could ask him if he was planning to leave. and when i asked him, he laughed, "babes! i know how strong your fear of abandonment is! i would never!" 

summer, 2019

and it's true. he wouldn't. we have a beautiful story. our first date at disney world; the cross-atlantic love that stayed alive over distance and pandemics; the concerts, museums, theme parks, and shows that we went to; our hours-long internet dates; our shared love for tragic american chain restaurants; how he listened to every episode of my podcast and then wanted to talk about them; and his amazing ability to support me objectively and compassionately at every turn. 

when i went to tobias in tears, i would ask "do you have capacity to listen to what's upsetting me right now?" which he had taught me, through modelling: his operationalization of consent was beautiful to learn from. and, somehow, he always was able to make room for me. whether he was with other partners or friends, or whether it was in the middle of the night for him, he would give me non-judgemental, inclusive, and gentle advice about a colleague or a partner or a friend. and i never wanted to defy his advice, because it was so honest, from the heart, and always in my best interest. i feel like i don't know how to live in the world without this; his love is the most un-selfish i've ever experienced.  

and so how do i move on without his support? how do i focus enough to accomplish anything efficiently --ever again? a colleague recently suggested that i focus on doing the work that he could help me with--that i could ask his energy/spirit to collaborate with me. and so, today, i asked him to help me write something.  to help support my processing, as he always would.

so i'm trusting tobias. i'm trusting my network. (i'm so grateful for all the people in my life who have supported and continue to support my grief.) and i keep searching for the help i know he is still offering me. i search, i ask, i cry, i wait. and occasionally the universe serves me little nuggets of magic.  a recent radiolab episode played tape of a man that lost his fiance at a young age; he was lamenting his lost future with his partner.  some words that he received that resonated with me were:

"...grief is a form of praise. you are praising the wonder of the person you lost. the great pain you are feeling means great love." 

and wow is my love/pain great. 

i have this text convo with him from when one of his close friends committed suicide in late 2018. he said to me: "I just realised that like any of us could die and people would be sad for a few days and then forget we even existed. And our friends would talk and phone for a few days and it would bring them together and then they would go back to normal life." i responded "your actions and words have ripples throughout the world. the world is forever changed because you're in it." and god. i just want tobias to know how untrue his words were.  

i am changed because of you, tobias. i am better because of your support and love. and that lives on in me: in my relationships, in my work, in my podcast, and obviously in my wardrobe of disney paraphernalia.  i promise to never forget you. 

and i promise to try to keep swimming, even on the days where diving under the water feels easier or safer.

the light at the end of the grocery store aisle

i was mopey all weekend. apparently i was being a "mopey mopey babe." last night one of my friends was trying to cheer me up and he dragged me out with him to pick up a pizza. as we were walking toward the pizza shop, it started raining. i almost broke down in tears, being in the mopey mood i was in. he pushed me into the grocery store we were next to, and told me to wait in there for him to get the pizza. as i walked into the store, a sad song was playing, and tears started streaming down my face.

and then, a small panic swept over me: i realized i hadn't brought anything with me--no phone, no money, no keys. i didn't know what pizza store my friend was going to, and now i had been deserted at this grocery store in the middle of a storm. i thought, "i could yelp close pizza stores... oh wait, i don't have my phone. i could go back to the house... oh wait, i don't have my keys."

i walked helplessly in a lap around the store, and then just walked straight back out, sure that i'd never see my friend again.

as i walked outside, my friend walked up and i collapsed in his arms saying i thought i was going to have to spend the night at that grocery store. he laughed a bit maniacally and said that he would never do that to me, though it would've been a brilliant plan--especially considering my level of mopey-ness.

well that whole thing showed me i kind of needed to turn the corner.

what was before the corner? saturday morning i woke up and found that someone i cared about deleted me from their life without any explanation. it was pretty jarring. i'm grown up enough to know that this wasn't my fault, and i reached out via text message to this person and offered compassion, hopefully offering a safe space for this person to respond back to me. they haven't yet. it left me feeling a little small. i was shrinking into myself with fear about the situation.

luckily my friends distracted me most of the weekend.

they are the most lovely friends in the world.

and then this morning i went to yoga. the teacher taught a theme of expansion: of expanding past our physical boundaries. on the mat, i reached my arms wider than i ever had before. i stretched my legs further apart. i cartwheeled my arms bigger, i radiated my heart with more passion and energy than i thought possible.

and i BREATHED. so deeply. so fully.

the feeling that emerged as i did this was overwhelming: i felt myself shattering the shell of fear i had encased myself in over the weekend. i felt myself thinking "i'm bigger than this. i'm bigger than this feeling of fear. i'm bigger than this mopey-self. i'm bigger than all this shit!"

i left the class with a knowing that i'll be ok. a knowing that i turned the corner: i made it out of the grocery store, and i'm making it out of this.

and to the person that evoked all of this: i'm also big enough to handle whatever is going on. that's an offering and a promise.

love, compassion, peace. and expansion. so much expansion. outside and inside.

committing. #sydneytoNYC

i haven't been getting excited. i've been freaking out. and mish got super pissed at me on my last full day in sydney because of that. she said SPRING! SHUT UP ABOUT YOUR STUPID APARTMENT! WHO CARES? YOU'RE GOING TO NEW YORK!!!

and i tried to get excited. i really did. but i had so much anxiety about the move (which i felt, in my stomach, every single day) that it was hard.

i was in a yoga class mid-move: those few days in LA between sydney and NYC were much needed down time. the teacher told us about how her six-year-old did the splits on the escalator that day. her advice to her daughter: "you have to commit; you can't be in two places at once!"


and that's when i realized what i needed to do: commit to NYC. sure. i did all the things. allll the things to get myself moved. but i didn't actually commit to NYC. so, right there in the yoga class, i decided to do it. i told NYC: i'm yours. totally yours. i breathed through each pose and smiled from the inside out. i repeated in my head over and over: "i commit to NYC."

by the end of the class i felt strong. happy. centered. ready.

there's a real lesson there: as soon as i committed, the anxiety disappeared. i filled my heart with love and it squashed the fear. it edged it right out.

and i'm going. RIGHT NOW. i'm in the air mid-way from LA to NYC: the last part of the move. i'm not even scared.

the only way i could have gotten to this place was through those friends that went so beyond the call of duty that i can't even begin to think of how i can thank them.

(hayden: thank you for helping with the boxes and computer. bal and chuck: thank you for stealing my stuff. matt: thank you for alllll the shit. and to all my besties who have supported me through millions of texts, chats, and company: thank you.)

so what's next? well, i run into anthony's arms at JFK. and then? who knows. anything can happen.

anything happens all the time.

i'm a New Yorker.

spring cleaning

i once went to a comedy show where the comedian started off the show saying "does anyone out there actually know what their name means?" me, sitting in the front row: "umm, yeah."  he asked what my name was, and as i replied, he immediately followed up with "and what does it mean?" i looked at him like he was insane and said, "it's a season!" he replied, "oh. yeah. ok; you win that game!" and moved on. everyone laughed and it was hilarious.

i love all the opportunities my name has for jokes and teasing.  and i'm obsessed with things that have my name in it. when springtime comes, i get to see my name EVERYwhere.  and the really great thing is that i get to have this when it hits springtime in the US, and when it hits springtime in australia.  i'm a super lucky girl.

anyway, it's spring in sydney.  finally.  spring is the most exciting of the season changes (yeah, yeah, i know, i might be biased).  but the reason i think it's so exciting is because it really is the time of year when everything is fresh and new. we get to break out of hibernation.  we get to blossom.  we get to really glow.

you'll notice people getting outside more; breaking up their routines; smiling more; reconnecting with others in their lives... getting happier.

and one of the super typical things we associate with spring is "spring cleaning"--the act of getting rid of stuff we don't need anymore; clearing out our space; making room for the new.

we do this in our closets regularly. but we also need to remember to do it in our lives.


i went to kelli's day retreat on saturday where she used "spring cleaning" as a theme for the day.  i stole the idea of the theme and made it my own when i taught both yesterday and tonight: the idea of letting go of things that aren't serving us in our lives is one of my favorite yoga themes.

i like this theme so much that i usually go back and teach it about once a month. because there are ALWAYS things we need to let go of.  there are so many little habits and ways that we get stuck. and being reminded that we have the power to let go of them, to move on, to expand and blossom--well that's just about the most empowering thing in the world.

when i practiced with kelli on saturday i thought of the relationships in my life that weren't giving me everything i needed.  i meditated on thoughts of my heart blooming.  and in savasana, these images of angels dusting out my heart snuck in front of my eyelids.  i was lying there, completely calm, completely at peace, and i just felt myself being dusted out.  i felt myself shining a little brighter.  and it felt amazing.

after i taught this theme sunday afternoon, i had a few people tell me how much they got out of it.  one student told me he had never had such an emotional experience in a yoga class. another told me how much she shifted during that hour. a few others told me how much they enjoyed it.  tonight, the same thing happened.

but you know what's so cool about that? each of us has that power. each of us can do that for ourselves.

i had dinner last night with a friend who is on a super high vibration right now.  she's got her duckies all lined up and she is ready to take on the next stage of her life: no doubt about it; she's gonna rock it.  she and i talked a bit about that idea of realizing your power in a situation, or even just realizing your power to change your attitude in a situation.  and about how easy it can be to forget that we have that power.

so, here's a little reminder: you can do it.  you can let it go.  you can have a little more spring in your step.  even if you're living in the "other" hemisphere right now.  clean out your inner closet; let go of that thing that's holding you back--why would you want to keep hanging on to it any longer than you have to?

to my friend that's on the verge of a divorce. to my friend who isn't sure what her marriage might hold for her. to my friend that doesn't know what career she'll have next week. to all my friends.

make room for new patterns, new ideas, new opportunities, and new people in your life. make room for the next, better thing. make room for yourself.

simultaneous recovery

"you're not in this alone." how many times have i heard that in my life? no matter what "this" is, experts, friends, people on the street, will tell you that same old line. hearing an oft repeated phrase usually means that it goes in one ear and out the other, though--you'll hear the statement without really processing it.

this morning i did a beautiful practice on yogaglo with elena brower. it's true, i'm obsessed with her classes in general, but this class said the right thing to me at the right time. in the class i took with her today, she told us that we weren't the only ones who had gone through whatever it was we were going through. she emphasized that a few times, saying that someone else had lived through exactly what it was we were living through. someone else had done it before. someone else had lived it. someone else. more than just me. someone else, too.

as i laid there in supta baddha konasana, left hand on my heart, i heard what elena said. like actually heard it for once. and when you really hear something for the first time, it's amazing. your brain hears it, your heart hears it, and every cell hears it. my cells all heard that i wasn't alone. they finally understood that everyone goes through hard times. that everyone struggles. and that somewhere, someone had gone through my exact struggles. and they came through it, shining brighter on the other side.

well, i can't really be sure of that last part, but that's what i choose to believe. and knowing that someone else has lived through these struggles that feel so ridiculously hard, is, well, ultra-comforting. HEY! I'M NOT ALONE!

practicing yoga this morning is what enabled me to put my breath, body, and mind in the right space to hear that message. and that's why i practice. to connect a little more, to myself and to everyone else. we aren't alone. even if it feels like it sometimes. today i decided to imagine that someone else is currently at the exact same stage, the exact same page, as i am. seeing that person in my mind's eye, sending them comfort and well wishes, was amazingly easier than doing it for myself. but it is me. and i want to tell that "other me" that she isn't alone either.

we aren't alone. we are all constantly in recovery together. from whatever.

which remind me of what the beatles sing, "there's nothing you can do that can't be done," and "nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be." so here i am: doing what i can do, where i'm meant to do it. "it's easy."

Just Breathe.

breath is an amazing thing. freaking amazing! the thing is, it's easy to forget how amazing it is, since we breathe automatically. every day. all the time.

i was reminded how amazing our breath is while watching a sitcom a few days ago. in the sitcom, a pregnant woman's boyfriend attended a lamaze class with her. he remained calm during the class, but after the class, he was talking to his friends saying "they expect her to deliver a baby just by using her BREATH!!"

i heard him say that, and i laughed so hard i started crying. once i caught my breath, i smiled. yes. i had forgotten how amazing the breath is. i was (am) stressed. i was (am) exhausted. i was (am) super low energy. i was (am) overburdened. over the past month, i've still been practicing and teaching yoga regularly, but even my yoga-breath was a little autopilot.

it took a freaked-out dad-to-be on an old UK sitcom to make me remember. but i remembered. MY BREATH IS AMAZING!

over the past week, i have been thinking about the breath: how it supports us, how it sustains us, how it gives us life. ...how it calms us down and repairs us when we're stressed/exhausted/super low energy/overburdened.

want to be amazed too? feel your breath: sit in a comfortable sitting position on the floor. sit tall with a long spine. take long, slow breaths, in and out through your nose, using ujjayi breath (how to do ujjayi breathing) if you like. with the first breaths, feel your belly expand. with the next breaths, focus on noticing your lower back expand. then, take your attention to the side bodies expanding. finally, feel the expansiveness through all the areas simultaneously. take another ten breaths or so, noticing the lightness and openness you've created. just by breathing.

just breathe. JUST BREATHE!