Intuition

"You wander from room to room hunting for the diamond necklace that is already around your neck!"    
- Rumi

A few months ago I was sitting in the lounge of a tequila bar late one night (please, don't ask why), and this Deepak Chopra, mystical, universe following man turned to me and said, "every bad decision you've ever made in your life, you knew." He looked like a normal, semi-hip, thirty something year old man. "Think back to all of them and I guarantee, you knew it was a bad decision."

There weren't that many bad decisions to look back to.  But nevertheless, I got the point: we have a lot more power within ourselves than we--than society--gives us credit for.  Intuitive power.

I know we all--myself included--tend to look for answers everywhere except where they are found: within ourselves.

I want you all to know the power, the intellect, the strength we all possess in our own core. (Osho would say, think with your navel and not with your mind. You have a mind, but you are not your mind).

Sometimes the right decision makes no sense. Sometimes logic just doesn't feel right.  Sometimes the best thing to do seems like the worst.  Sometimes you need to listen to you, just you.  Ultimately, nobody knows you, knows your life, as well as you do. And it is you who is in control. Your life is up to you, and not up to your friends, to your family, to society.

You are the one who needs to live with every decision you make, so you, only you, must decide. Thanks to the random tequila drinking, spiritually inspiring man, I am fully aware of this fact.

Most importantly, remember to channel your inner fearlessness.  This will be helpful when it seems like you're going against the grain.  (If you've forgotten all about fearlessness, click here)   

Fail Better

"A quitter never wins--and a winner never quits. Lift this sentence out, write it on a piece of paper in letters an inch high, and place it where you will see it every night before you go to sleep and every morning before you go to work." -Napoleon Hill


Astoundingly powerful words. Take this philosophy and add it Samuel Beckett's, "fail better" quote and you will get the reason why the following picture is a good thing.

 Thank you to The Sun for my first official rejection letter. Should I frame it?
And thanks to Pauline for the great photography!

Complaining: Forget About it

My vow to stop complaining led to . . .

-A ridiculous onslaught of complaining--more than I am accustomed to doing.
-It reinforced something I already knew: the more I focus on something (even when the focus is on avoiding that something), the more it occurs.
-Vows of all sorts are counterproductive.

I'm not taking back what was previously stated: complaining is a bad influence.

While "venting" does feel good here and there, the bottom line is that all energy would be better spent on something more constructive. Something not so negative. Something, uh, positive. Try the "Good things" list suggested way back (read about it here).

Forget about complaining, and complaining will cease to be an issue.

Evening Hour

This line captures the essence of something wonderful.  I must have read it a dozen times before moving on.


"It was the evening hour when work was over and the last gold light lay flat across the roofs and touched the honey-coloured hair and the whisky in his glass" -Graham Greene, Our Man in Havana

Stop Complaining.

Remember last time you started complaining about someone or something, under the pretense of "just venting"? Do you remember feeling better or angry and upset all over again? Did you really blow off some steam, or create even more steam?

I've realized that venting (a.k.a. complaining) is a bad influence.  It's something that perpetuates feeling bad, and does little in making me feel fabulous (and lets remember some of our number one goals: feeling good, having fun, loving life etc.)

So as of today, I am taking a vow: no complaining, no venting, no "blowing off steam." Lets say, for the rest of the weekend.

If someone prevents me from doing my job tonight by micro managing everything I do: I will not complain.
If I get a crappy tip: I will not complain.
If someone does not let me over into the other lane when I'm driving: I will not complain. And I will not secretly wish s/he gets infected with swine flu.
If it's freezing cold, and Southern California barely got any good beach days this summer: I will not complain. I will be grateful for the chance to wear cute sweaters.
If there is no more red wine when I come home: I will not complain. I will make a vodka soda instead. And if it still does not satisfy, I will just have tea.

Okay, you get the idea. I'll keep you all posted.

12:54 AM

I love writing like I love a soft blanket wrapped tightly around me. I love writing like the first bite of a warm brownie topped with ice cream. Like sitting outside on a summer night and looking up at lit paper lanterns. Like the tiny clusters of white flowers hanging outside my window. The sweet scent entices me to bend down and smell them almost every time I walk to my front door.

I love writing like I love my new wallet.  Made out of soft leather, it came with a removable strap. It's a peachy shade of burnt orange and I wanted to sleep beside it on the first night.

Like sixty-nine cent, avalanche de sabor ice cream cones from McDonald's. Like the smell of good coffee beans in the morning. Like jazz cafes. Like the feeling after running four miles. Calm. Empty. Sweaty.

I love writing like I love myself. My curly hair. My lips. My toes--they're red. The dark fleck in my right eye. I love it like the comforting notion that no one will ever know me as well as I do.

Like Seattle. Like driving on the freeway at sunset and seeing the mountains all around me. Like rain on hot asphalt.

Like espresso and a piece of chocolate on a sunny patio at noon.

Like the feeling of ocean water drying on my skin: flakes of salty residue on my arm. Like white cotton anything. Like coconut sunscreen. Like summer. Like fall.

I love writing like I love the first poem I ever wrote: "I want, I want, I want / I want something that you want / I want sunshine, I want flowers." I must have been ten, I think.

Sometimes

Sometimes I forget that it's all going to be okay.

I forget to listen when Bob Marley plays in my car; "Every little thing gonna be all right," he tells me. I forget to believe it.

I forget what I want. I forget my essence. Sometimes. I lose sight. I forget I'm fearless and I forget my power. I forget I can write. I forget who I am. I forget I'm the one steering the ship, and I forget to relax. To trust.

But that's why you're here. So I can tell you--and then, remember.

Moments when we Feel Alive

A friend recently recommended I watch the movie, Paris, Je T'aime. The film is a compilation of short films, each by different directors, taking place in the various districts of the city.  And it is absolutely wonderful.

I wanted to share one of  the most beautiful moments--the last short film directed by Alexander Payne. Click here to watch. 

Please share your thoughts. 

Faith in You.

Last night I read a simple sentence: "Have faith in yourself."

I can't exactly describe the feeling reading this gave me, but I can tell you that whatever mix of emotions swelled up in me, among all of them was something powerful and liberating.