remembering 9/11.

We all have our own 9/11 story.

I grew up on Long Island, and was in my senior year of high school. On top of the world. Editor of our school newspaper. Editor of our literary magazine. Applying to colleges far away. Friends with all. Being myself. I thought I had it made.

I was walking to American History II (ironic) when a friend of mine ran down the halls, which were abnormally crowded on this particular day, to our teacher screaming "A plane just hit one of the twin towers!" I remember my teachers face, he was confused, not sure if this was a joke, and looked sick to his stomach. We all shuffled into the classroom and he turned on the news. Sure enough. It happened. As we were watching, the second plane hit. All I can honestly remember is hearing him say "This is the start to a very sick war". I numbly remember eating a bagel during lunch, trying frantically to get in touch with loved ones, but there was no cell phone service.

I can tell you how I came home to see my grandmother crying on the couch. It was her birthday, and her immediate thought was that her grandsons would be drafted for war. I can tell you how I smelled burning bodies and dying flesh, as I lived 60 miles from Manhattan. I can tell you how I didn't sleep for a week, and the slightest overhead noise bought pure panic to my heart. I can tell you I lost people I knew. I can tell you how that one day, bonded millions of humans together, and is a day that continues to do so.

Today, I ask you to sit for a moment and reflect. Think about your story. Where you were. What you were. And where you are now. Take a moment to be grateful for your precious life, and those lives around you. September 11th, 2001 was a day of pain, anger and loss. Make September 11, 2011 a day where you truly reflect on what you want in life, and make it happen. Find a cause. Give back.

Please share your story with me. Share your dreams. Your hopes. Your wishes. Your reflections. Shanti shanti shanti.

Blessings,
M

To you, Creator of nature and humanity,

of truth and beauty, I pray:

Hear my voice,

for it is the voice of the victims of all wars and violence among individuals and nations.

Hear my voice,

for it is the voice of all children who suffer

and will suffer when people put their faith

in weapons and war.

Hear my voice,

when I beg you to instill into the heart

of all human beings, the wisdom of peace,

the strength of justice and the joy of fellowship.

Hear my voice,

for I speak for the multitudes in every country

and every period of history who do not want war

and are ready to walk the road of peace.

Hear my voice,

and grant insight and strength so that we may always

respond to hatred with love, to injustice with total dedication to justice,

to need with sharing of self, to war with peace.

O God, hear my voice,

and grant unto the world your everlasting peace.

- Pope John Paul II

My love affair with the Lotus.

Tomorrow I start my fabulous (& some-what nervewrecking!) 200-hour teacher training journey at the eccentric and soulful Laughing Lotus located here in NYC.

Teacher training has always been a thought in the back of my mind, but with so many studios in the city, and so many brilliant teachers, I didn't just want to settle for a studio, without giving it my heart and soul. Afterall, this was going to be the foundation for growth, movement and where I find myself as a yoga student and eventually, a yoga teacher.

My love affair with the Lotus (as my best friend, G, and I call it) began last spring when I took advantage of their free classes in a nearby park. All I had to do was hear Dana Flynn's voice, and I knew I was hOMe. At this time, I was considering teacher training, but was not so confident with my practice, despite being accepted into ISHTA's 200-hour program, with the mindful Alan Finger. My heart wasn't in it. I wasn't excited. I was too nervous. So, I declined. I then thought about receiving certification from Reflections Yoga and the beautiful Paula Tursi, where I was working as a karmi yoga. But again, something held me back. All this time, I kept 'stalking' the Laughing Lotus website, in awe of their workshops, their devotional classes and their well-known teacher training program. But, that application? Intimidated me. Completely. I would attempt a question and shut down. No thank you. Too hard.

After losing my grandfather in December, I dove into my practice. I began practicing every day, sometimes twice a day. I found myself in my practice, a part of me I thought I had lost. Being part of a New Moon Women's Group, one new moon back in March, I manifested that I would apply to Laughing Lotus. It was on. The next day I purchased my first 30-class card, and began spending one day per question on their application. Eventually, the wisdOM grew, the answers came from my heart, my soul ripped open and my application was completed and it was bright and colorful.

I found myself in their shatki-soaked studio, growing, laughing, crying and finding my true self. Sure, I can't do every inversion, but I always give it a try. Which is what I had to do in this case, so, I submitted the application. I put more time and effort into that application then I had done with any college or grad school application, which is how I knew, yoga and I are meant to be.

It was at Wanderlust in VT, right before a Cosmic Class with Dana when I learned of my acceptance. The class following my acceptance is one I will never forget. It was a rainy week in VT, and in the middle of Dana's juicy class, the sun came out. Everyone cheered, some cried. Dana opened the doors and yogi's began practicing on the deck. Dana pumped up the jams, which ended with a group sing-a-long to Fleetwood Mac (for the record, they are my favourite band, and it was the jam Landslide) and a room filled with love. It was a sign, I truly had never felt more excited for an unknown journey, and never felt more at home then I had in that class.

When I told my current teachers about my journey, they could not have been more then supportive and excited. Just yesterday in Angelina's powerful class, she counted down the days until I begin this journey, and she continues to radiate more excitement then I could have ever expected. And not just Angelina, but to all my teachers, I thank you. For supporting me on this journey, for believing in me, and for gently pushing me into handstand when you know I need it. I forever bow to you. I am forever in debt to your love.

And Laughing Lotus - bring it on. I am ready. Eyes wide open. Heart set to a beginner. Let's start this wild ride!

Peace & om,
m

Having loved enough and lost enough,
I'm no longer searching
just opening,

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

These are the irritations
that rub into a pearl.

So we can talk for a while
but then we must listen,
the way rocks listen to the sea.

And we can churn at all that goes wrong
but then we must lay all distractions
down and water every living seed.

And yes, on nights like tonight
I too feel alone. But seldom do I
face it squarely enough
to see that it's a door
into the endless breath
that has no breather,
into the surf that human
shells call God.

Expect resistance from all corners and comers when you begin to change yourself, due to the fear of losing you if you become great. Some friends will be left behind, but new ones will appear. Don't stop.

-Kelly Morris

growth.

As I embrace my late 20's this Saturday, it had me thinking of all that I have done, seen and accomplished this past year. It has been, hands down, a very trying year. But those tough times, the times when you don't think you can see another day, are the times that make you stronger.

After losing my grandfather, I re-evaluated my life. Why am I here? What can I give? Am I true? My grandparents taught me to follow my dreams, and the death of my grandfather taught me that NOW was the moment. So, I took my dreams. I ran with them. I didn't look back. I did some things impulsively. I traveled recklessly. I expanded my mind and put my thoughts and actions out there. I LIVED.

The accomplishments? I traveled to VT for the beautiful Wanderlust festival. I enrolled in Laughing Lotus' distinguished teacher training. I held hands with many cute boys. I stood up for myself. I coloured my hair. I cut out negative individuals from my life. I gave myself a name in the local manhattan yoga community. I found MY own community. I worked out those chakras. I danced till my feet hurt. I found my own rhythm. I saw love unravel. I lived in a tent for a week in the woods on a lake. I spent a whole day beginning and finishing a novel. I cried in public. I donated to charity. I reconnected with old friends. I forgave. I accepted. I found something I was passionate about. I woke up every morning and meditated. I ran (until a hamstring injury!). I spent weekends in the country. I accepted flaws. I accepted others. I accepted stillness. I wandered. I got lost. I opened my door, heart and arms to new people. I accepted being alone. I mended that broken heart. I found freedom. I researched. I gave. I took. I said no. I manifested. I counseled. I taught.
I began to finally feel free.

Thank you, friends, for sticking through with me this year. Thank you to my beloved mama and grandfather for being my angels through this journey. Thank you universe, for sticking me here, right now. I have found my reason.

peace & om,
m

Who are you?

I had the honour to take a class with Elena Brower in the city a few weeks ago on an absolutely gorgeous early summer evening. She said something that really stuck with me. She was speaking about WHO you are on the mat is how AND who you should be in your everyday life, and if you are a different person off the mat, what's the point?

It really had me thinking - how many people are not living their authentic lives? How many people are one person on the mat and a totally different person off the mat? Maybe because their family or loved ones don't support their yoga practice, or because they are afraid to show their true light? Why practice something you can't use in your everyday life?

I took this class with one of my beloved teachers, and on the way home we were discussing it. It lead to the discussion about taking your yoga off the mat and using it in the everyday life. I asked her, 'What is yoga?'. We both agreed that yoga is what we were doing right then & there - sitting on a crowded rush-hour train, packed with strangers, using our breath and patience and shining our inner light towards others. Yoga is calling your family. Yoga is a 4 pm staff meeting at your workplace. Yoga is having that difficult conversation. Yoga is being at peace. Yoga is in you and all around you.

Shine on,

M

New Perspectives

I took part in a Relay for Life last night/this morning in Westchester County with my family. I lost my grandfather this past December, and although the cancer he had did not take his life, (a stroke did), he was a man living with cancer. Cancer has changed my life - it took away my paternal grandfather and took away the mother to my very best friend - a woman who showed strength and unconditional love until her last breath. It has taken away so many people who are frankly, too young, to be taken away. It has broken families apart, broken hearts and is a true test of strength - for both the victims and caregivers.

I didn't know what I was signing up when I told my aunt I would go in on this with her. I figured it would be a good exercise (12 hours of walking, yes please!) and a fun night to spend with some of the women in my family I dig hangin' out with. The second I walked onto the track, my perspective was shifted.

The whole night was a celebration of life. There were a crazy amount of survivors, individuals who I don't know, but individuals who motivated me to keep going because of their strength and ability to combat a deadly disease. Everyday heroes. These people have been through the gutter and back, and luckily have survived this deadly disease. Seeing them walk the first lap, with such pride on their faces as complete strangers applauded them and cheered for them, made me realize how damn lucky I am to walk this planet.

If you're familiar with this event - you may know about the luminary walk. Probably the second most emotional aspect of this event after the survivor lap. It's a walk done after 10 p.m., where you dedicate a bag with a candle in it to someone battling cancer, someone who survived cancer, or someone who lost their life to cancer (the luminary we made for my grampy is the image above). The entire track is pitch black, except for these luminary bags with candles in them lighting the path. Instant heartbreak - seeing names, hundreds upon hundreds of names, and knowing that they all have been impacted by cancer - whether they are living or not.

As I walked until the wee hours of the morning last night in 43 degree weather, there were many points where I wanted to bag it, go home and sleep in a warm bed. But I thought about these people. These people who don't have a chance to see the sunset set because they are stuck in hospice. These children who won't have their mother there for them when they grow up because their mother has passed. I kept going. I got through it. I survived, and knew my struggle was not any different or difficult then the person's next to me - in fact, their struggle may have been more difficult.

There were a group of young people who stood out to me through the 12 hours. They had to have been in middle school, mourning the loss of a classmate. Through the luminary walk, they cried, hugging each other and sharing memories. They sat around their classmate's luminary bag for hours, just crying and telling each other it was okay to cry and let it out. I wanted to hug each and every them. I wanted to tell them how sorry I was for them, and how I felt their pain. I wanted to tell them that they were too young to know about losing a classmate, someone their age, to cancer. How it wasn't fair. But at the same time, I wanted to tell them that they should celebrate their life - that this is what their friend would have wanted.

Sometimes, I think we take life a little too much for granted. Tonight, I looked out while on the subway, and saw the sunset. I noticed just how beautiful it looked settling behind NYC buildings and took it in. How often do I miss the sunset? Everyday I just take it for granted. If I am taking the sunset for granted - what else am I taking for granted in my life?

If you have the opportunity to take part in this beautiful event - I urge you to do so. This morning, despite my shivering body and tight muscles, I felt grateful. I made new friends. I heard stories about survival and loss. I made it a point to appreciate things & people I may not have appreciated or even noticed before. I took in a new breath of air - a breath of gratitude, love and strength.

namaste.

m xo