This morning I was reveling in my morning practice and how it was rescuing me from “the simmer.” What’s that? It’s the slow, low burn of toxic emotions like frustration, discouragement, worry and criticism that I wake up with quite often. It’s not a bonfire, consuming all the air and light. Most days it’s, well, simmering, like a pot of something quietly bubbling on the back burner of the cook top.
It hit me like a dull thud in the chest. Then the sharp thrust at the sudden surprising loss, followed by roiling crescendo of grief for his family. That’s how the news of the deaths of Kobe Bryant and his young daughter Gianna felt. It’s because he was so young, and she was a child. It’s because we could all imagine the moments of terror preceding the crash of the helicopter.
One of the wonderful things about living in New York City is that you can get practically anything delivered. Got home too late to start cooking dinner? Order in. No washing machine in your apartment or laundry room in your building? The laundromat down the street will send someone to pick up your dirty clothes, wash them, fold them, and bring them back.
I LOVE LISTS! l delight in writing down all of the tasks I have to do in the day. It helps relieve my memory and enhances my peace of mind. When I’ve got it together enough to do it the night before, it helps to insure a good night’s sleep. Otherwise I wake up in the middle of the night, fretting about something I don’t want to forget.
I’ll bet you’re already sick of all the talk about resolutions (to keep, or not to keep), and how to strategically plan your week, your year, your business, your life. The diet folks and fitness centers have been gunning for you to sign up since Thanksgiving. They’re literally banking on you to start January with a surge of ambition, only to peter out by March.
Are you ready for some sobering statistics? The poorest 40% of the world’s population accounts for 5% of global income. Nearly half of all humanity lives on $2 or less per day. 80% lives on $10 or less a day.
I love clothes. I mean I really LOVE clothes. I love fabrics, textures and natural fibers so much I can taste them. I dream about clothes, and wake up with ideas for new outfits. It must be in my DNA.
My dear friend Gail is highly creative and imminently talented. She can turn a barren half acre of land into a landscape to rival the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, one of the seven ancient wonders of the world.
My friend Richard (not his real name, you’ll see why) has a thriving firm in the nation’s capital. His offices are in a modern building with fine art and eclectic architecture, bamboo flooring , brightly colored plush seating, lots of windows and glass partitions with natural light streaming in.
What I am about to say may be tough to hear. But here’s something to chew on: whatever is happening in our lives, whatever circumstances we find ourselves in, we are the cause. We are not to blame; it’s not our fault and this is not an accusation.