On our last day in Costa Rica the coaches leading the retreat had us sit for a few minutes in the beautiful outdoor yoga pavilion to partake in a final exercise of self-love. This exercise consisted of writing a letter to ourselves which would be sent in the following weeks post retreat, the idea being that it would serve as a reminder once thrust back into the "real world" of all we had learned and experienced during our magical time together. Have you ever written yourself a letter of any kind, let alone a love letter? It may feel like a pretty silly practice--I know when I first held the pen in my hand I stared at the blank card and thought what the heck do I say to myself? This is a little goofy. But then I stopped thinking with my ego and just let go (which could honestly be the tag line for my book on how-to-live-most-happily). I let my spirit quickly write this short and sweet note to myself without interruption from insecurities. Without re-reading what I wrote, I sealed the sucker up and handed it over to my coaches. The best thing about receiving my note a few days ago (besides the fact it was snail mailed and holy heck do I love me some snail mail) was that I had no memory of what I had written--it was as if I were seeing the words for the first time; as if someone else entirely had sent me this card. Even my handwriting is slightly off from my normal penmanship! Kinda trippy, right? I debated on whether or not it would be "cool" to share this with you all here--admittedly it's a bit humbling (read: embarrassing) to showcase--but I think my readers, in all of their wonderfulness, will understand the point of my posting it. Plus, as a line from my favorite movie says, "The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when we're uncool...": "Miss Trish, my darling girl- There's no denying that deep within your glorious soul there has always dwelled a sparkling, shiny, powerful light. Since birth you have had a gift to share, but I know thru the years it has been difficult to really acknowledge this--to activate it. I just wanted you to know that now is your time--now is all there ever is. I wanted to tell you that you are ready...and that not only do I wholly, completely, unconditionally love you but I will never, ever leave you. Shine, beautiful one. Soar. Play. Laugh. Share. Be. Trust. Connect. Travel. Explore. Write. LOVE. Always love. You will live beyond your wildest dreams; you will help others live beyond theirs. Me & You, kid. I love your guts, me." I've said it before--the one person you are stuck with for your entire life, is yourself. If you can't learn to make the effort in ensuring it's a positive relationship by practicing a lil self lovin' now and again then...well...life is going to be a heck of lot less enjoyable. I can guarantee it.
So, what would you lovingly tell yourself in a moment of uncool? I bet you'd be surprised to see how awesome you think you are :) In Gratitude, Trish
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By Kim Walker This is my Knee Penguin. I love her almost as much as my real pet dog Eva. Almost. I am not an athlete by nature, like our other dear guest blogger Shannon. While all the other kids were joining intra-mural sports I was reading really bad sci-fi novels about dragons. I didn’t lay a groundwork of health like all the other elastic, spry pre-teens around me. “Tendonitis? What’s that? Did you hear Josh asked me to Spring Fling? Whee! Giggle giggle run run. Fitness!” Post-college was the first time I ever ran a mile. A real shitty mile. But slowly, with epic whining and kicking and screaming, my dear husband pulled me into a life of pseudo athleticism. I was always creaky and bad at it, but I started to see it’s merits. Then I broke my left foot and visited a physical therapist for the first time. My calf practically disintegrated and 5 years later has left a serious imbalance in what little strength my legs do have. A few years later I barely ran a half marathon, damaging myself severely along the way, and wound up in physical therapy again. Both times they loaded me up with a series of exercises that made me look like a jackass and I decided it was easier to just not run or be active anymore than to work to solve the imbalance. Then I fell for a ‘sport’ and actually had a reason to want to succeed. I’m addicted to circus. I do flying and static trapeze and lyra. For the first time I cared about my body’s performance. And, surprise, it didn’t cooperate. I was injured all. the. time. It was so frustrating and I couldn’t just stop, because I loved it. My third round of physical therapy came from a mysterious bout of very acute knee pain. I generally feel a pretty consistent level of knee pain, so I tried to ignore it, but this was bad. It was either a torn meniscus, strained bicep femoris, or a tight IT band. Regardless of the diagnosis, the treatment was the same. More goofy exercises. And, mysterious black tape. Three physical therapists crowded around my knee, poking at it. I am apparently hyper-mobile in all my ligaments. Near as I can translate, this means I’m a walking jello blob. Tasty, but not very structurally sound. They discussed various ways to tape my ‘hyper mobile patella’ then decided on the method pictured above. It looked exactly like a penguin, causing me to envision a class in which advanced medical professional practice taping zoo animals to various body parts. “Oh, my, looks like this rotator cuff could use a good Hippopotamus taping.” “No, I disagree, this situation clearly merits a Giraffe.” Then the magic happened. I walked out of the office and my penguin knee didn’t hurt. At all. Instead, my right knee (my ‘good’ knee) hurt really damn bad. Moreover - I realized it wasn’t a new kind of bad. It was pain I was living with every single day, not even when I was doing something athletic. It wasn’t until my penguin knee felt good, that I could truly comprehend how bad my ‘normal’ knee was. I had just ‘learned to live’ with a situation that was completely unacceptable. Because changing it would have been hard or scary or time consuming, I dug in and dealt with it. I only paid attention to the loudest, most obnoxious pain in my ‘bad’ knee. And cue the hol-EE-shit moment: if I removed “knee” and “penguin” from the paragraph above, what was I left with? An insidious undercurrent running through most of my life. So many little bad habits and small negative choices settle in around us all day every day, and we let it happen. Because there are louder, more pressing concerns and pains distracting us. And because even the thought of making the small changes is sometimes more exhausting than overhauling the big ones. But they all matter. They’re all connected and worth our attention. No pain, no matter how small, is ever worth ignoring. Sometimes the right course may be to listen to it and live in it. Or we can listen to it and choose to not focus on it, but that choice should be conscious. Acknowledging the legitimacy of our pains, big or small, mental or physical, must be holistic, or we’ll wind up horribly imbalanced. And in desperate need of taped zoo animals. -Kim failing at my trick candles :) My 28th birthday was supremely delicious from start to finish. I've been meaning to tell you that since the day afterward, but I admittedly got caught up in a shuffle of travel, weddings, family and (very) cute boy time. But it was. I ate up every moment of it. My eyes naturally opened at around 6am (far, far earlier than my normal rise and shine time) and for 45 glorious minutes I cherished, adored and loved every bit of my being. OK OK, that full on sounds like I got a little freaky bow-chica-bow-wow with myself (which also could have been a nice way to start my 28th year), but I don't mean it in that way. I just mean I took 45 minutes to breathe deeply. To lie still and peacefully in the perfect early morning light beginning to trickle its way through my blinds, underneath a fluffy sea of white, freshly laundered blankets. I gave thanks for the potential in another year; I gave thanks for the 27 memory filled ones of my past. My friends often tease me about my morning self-love routines, but it's one of the best parts of my day. I'll have to post about how it has helped to change my life another time... After putting on my favorite yoga clothes I head out onto a quiet street to grab a cup of coffee and a bagel across the way. I then chatted with my sweet Jenny, who called as soon as her eyes opened (the jig was up when I heard her morning-voiced "Happy birthday, Pats!" scratch through the line). Out of habit I avoided walking down one neighborhood street in particular on my way to the Bay due to my desire to avoid a possible run in with a guy I dated last year. Then, naturally, he almost ran me over as we both turned the corner at the same time. I said hey! He waved. I tripped. We kept walk/running in our respected directions. Oh Universe, you sure do have a sense of humor :) The reason I mention this is because on my previous birthday I had cried over his lack of effort to come to dinner with my friends...or even call. I had cried because, frankly, he deeply hurt my feelings and it was a confusing, sad, weird 8 months of dating. I mention this because it amazed me to notice I didn't flinch at seeing him and could even manage to crack up at myself for tripping...I giggled for a solid 3 blocks to Jenny on the phone, crowning myself the most graceful (read: awkward) gal in the Marina. And I mention this because it's good to be reminded of how much time and space can serve to bring us new perspective; how much they can heal us, if we let them. It was beautiful to think wow, I am so, so much happier right now than I was a year ago and know that this fact stemmed from a place of great personal patience, effort and love. The previous year all I could see was they ways in which I felt hurt during my time with him. But now? Now I can see all the amazing ways in which that time pushed me down a more positive road--not necessarily because of who he is, but because of how it gave me strength in who I am. I am able to forgive, release and even give thanks for his brief chapter in my story. Time is the great equalizer, Trish, so trust the process and let it do its job. Will this matter a year from now? Food for thought during those future in-the-moment breakdowns, ya know? Twice a month Weebly has a private yoga class downstairs led by the awesome Lindsay. I may have mentioned once or twice (or 54 times) to our team in the weeks leading up how great it would be if folks gave it a shot on my birthday. Usually we only have between 3-6 participants but when it was time to downward dog on June 20th, eleven people participated--3 trying the practice for the very first time ever. Holy humbled. As Lindsey wound down the practice (side note: she kicked.our.butts.) she ever so kindly asked everyone to "send Trish love on her birthday, which fittingly falls on Summer Solstice, the day with the most light--just like our Trish." Let's be serious--this sentiment, combined with the fact folks had made time in their days to try something new simply because they knew it would make me happy...well, I couldn't hold back my tears. I turned around to face the group and choked out my gratitude. I am beyond blessed to work here. That evening 14 women flanked my sides at dinner. 3 years in San Francisco and I can't believe I've managed to surround myself with so many beautiful female friends. They are love, light and forces to be reckoned with. I would not be where I am without them. With about 15 minutes left in my day, I said goodnight to my sleepover buddy (the awesome cousin Meggie) and let myself drift easily, contently and....what else?....gratefully into June 21st. My cup runneth over, Trish "Are you ever serious?", he asked as I playfully danced around his room, talking in silly voices while he packed for yet another business trip. I would have giggled at his observation if it hadn't been delivered with rolled eyes and a sigh of disapproval. Am I not serious enough? I pouted as I carefully took a seat next to the pile of clothes yet to be packed. Do I have a maturity issue or something? We'd been dating off and on for about 7 months, by which I mean we were together when he wasn't too busy to make time for me or had a sudden (and always fleeting) need to feel coupled up. His comment stung me deeply and was, I believe, the first true a-ha moment I had that our "union" was not sustainable. Isn't it funny how someone can make a characteristic you've always liked about yourself seem like the absolute worst quality you possess with one simple snide comment? How a single opinion can weigh more dark and heavily on our hearts than the one you lovingly believe for yourself? Looking back I can't help but shake my head at the fact I actually asked myself if I wasn't a serious enough person. C'mon, Trish, give yourself a little credit! Anyone who knows me at all knows I certainly do not coast through life poo-pooing the serious. Heart to hearts, confiding, sharing intimacy--these are all things I greatly cherish within my relationships. If you are willing to be vulnerable and authentic with me, then let me go ahead and crack open a bottle of wine so we can share our stories properly and with open hearts and minds. But anyone who knows me at all also knows I am prone to a case of the sillies. In summary--I love to laugh only slightly less than making others laugh. Can this pull towards playfulness sometimes be used as a coping mechanism in life? Absolutely. I know all too well that I occasionally use humor to deter sadness, anger or insecurity. Yet I also know life will deal you serious cards whether you like it or not. I know that even our best laid plans fall subject to deviation; even our greatest intentions can spiral out into messy situations. The ying and yang of living dictates we may experience some painful shit during our time on this planet, ya know? So to me, it's a question of why waste your time stewing and brewing and worrying and taking everything oh so seriously when we have the glorious choice of seeing humor (and LIGHT) in every dark nook and cranny. Sharing heart felt sentiments with another living soul is only ever upped...in my very humble opinion...by sharing a belly aching laugh with them. I said it in the "About" section of this blog and I'll say it again here: I'm serious about living, but I don't take myself too seriously. I love my playful, childlike sense of quirky humor. There, I said it! I'm putting it out there as an affirmation for myself: I. Love. Being. Playful. And you know what? I know the right partner will someday love it, too. Shed light, Trish Dr. Pepper makes me burp the loudest. No joke! A quick story for you: Me: Good grief I just realized I'm super dehydrated, I need to chug some water...(reaches for a bottle of sparkling H2O).. Coworker 1, laughing: Girl, if you chug that you are gonna have a huge burp! Me: Haha I know, but I'm so thirsty and I like it better than flat! ...3 minutes later, I burp and coworker 1 and I full bellied crack up together. Coworker 2, in front of the whole company, with a straight face: I can't decide what's more annoying--your burps or your laugh. Ouch. Like...super ouch. OK. Let's shift my perspective for a second. I get it. It can be considered pretty icky when someone lets out a big ol' inappropriate burp and it certainly is a far cry from "lady like". Do I have to burp out loud? No, of course not. Does it hurt to hold it in? Yes, it actually does. Maybe I have some undiagnosed acid reflux issue I should get checked out; maybe I should excuse myself to the restroom every time I have to burp. But, in my slight defense, I work in a predominately male industry and my burping skills have become a running joke in the office; I'm the tiniest here, but I can burp the loudest (unless you ask my boss, who is endearingly but incorrectly convinced he can beat me in a contest). The phenomenal young men I work with have become like family to me and if I thought even for a moment that I was truly offending someone I would cease and desist on the burp front immediately, no questions asked. To be blunt--I would never, ever burp around guests or folks who weren't close to me. So I'm not hurt that he found my burp to be un-funny. If anything it's a lesson learned. The part that actually really stung? His calling my laugh annoying, as if it were something I could control even if I wanted to. I live to laugh and yes, I know my laughter is loud and slightly odd. But I also physically can't help it. It's just part of who I am. My laughter is an expression of joy that I feel inside--how could that ever be a negative thing? A sweet friend and Grateful Lifer reached out to me yesterday with a question pertaining to how I deal with folks who unnecessarily push negative judgement on you and I think my response to her can be applied to my situation above as well. I told her: "Something I've learned over the past few years is that people have a terrible habit of projecting their own insecurities in odd and hurtful ways and it is best to try and not take anything personally (I know I know--not the easiest!). At its core, negativity like you've experienced actually has nothing to do with you. I like to say that out loud: this has nothing to do with me. Phew! No need to carry that burden. Another persons judgements are their problems, not yours... It only matters that we are, just as you said, authentic and enjoying the journey. To me the haters are genuinely wasting their time. It matters most that someone like you can reach out to someone like me and we can make a connection. If I were a hot mama to be, that is what I'd want my child to take away from me--how many positive connections am I making? Am I continuing to be kind? Then I can close my eyes at night with peace in my heart." The truth is that my coworkers judgements ...or anyone else's, for that matter...really are his problems, not mine. Mental mantra on repeat: It is not my problem he doesn't like my laugh. It doesn't define anything. It isn't my burden to bear; it isn't my job to convince him otherwise or change myself to fit his mold. If someone offers me a gesture of negativity like this I have every right and every powerful ability to decline it. So, it looks like my burping days at work have come to an end. And that's really OK. I genuinely strive to make this a positive environment for everyone employed here and if that means taking my lady-likeness up a notch, then no worries. But my laughing days? Sorry, buddy. Those have just gotten started. So if you don't like it? I love ya, but you can put your noise canceling headphones back on while I continue to squeal, snort, giggle, no-sound-coming-out-but-defintiely-a-few-tears express my joy :) In Gratitude, Trish In one week from today I turn 28 years young. Starting a fresh lap around the sun has me reflecting back on the most recent years of my life while also (excitedly!) pondering what's yet to be. For one thing, while I'm not exactly where I thought I'd be 5 years ago I am also...somehow...exactly where I thought I would be. It may seem odd that these notions can coexist, but it is deeply true for me. On one level I believed I would (still) be married. I believed I would be adorable puppy and small but cozy home owning. Agency working. Dinner party for couples hosting. In a pleasant routine-ing. I even believed I would be at some point in the baby making and family planning process, despite the concept of motherhood scaring the bajeezus outta me. But even as I type I know how hazy that vision of my future always actually was; how distant, disconnected and ill fitting it felt. It was never something I could fully grasp. It was like I could see it...but I couldn't ever feel it. On the other level, my most real visions--my gut affirming, easiest to breathe in visions--contained quiet mornings on a yoga mat laid across hard wood floors in small studio apartments. They contained solo travel and adventures across the globe where I met new, wonderful people. They included late nights of dancing, bottles of wine enjoyed in dynamic company, writing, mystery and passion filled, unexpected connections. And most importantly? They involved exploration and expansion of my spirit; they involved a relationship with God in a way that felt right for me. This glimpse of my future I kept mostly tucked away in the corner of my heart, where it felt the most safe and free of judgment from others. But it never faded. It was never fleeting or hazy. If I had the courage, I could hold it in the palm of my hands and marvel at its beauty. One of the coaches during my Costa Rica trip said something to me that struck me so profoundly it still gives me chills to think about. I hesitated posting about it here because of the personal nature and degree to which it has affected my spirit; it very well may be one of those things that you have to be there to hear to fully understand, you know? But, I think now is as good a time as any to share. In one of our group coaching sessions I was in the midst of quietly explaining the depths to which my regrets had been flooding me with guilt on a daily basis. To be honest, I hadn't planned on speaking at all during the session and only began talking when prompted in the final moments of the discussion. Suddenly, the oh so intuitive C's face (we'll call this lovely lady C for the sake of privacy) lit up and she interrupted me by saying "I'm sorry...I'm getting a download...I have to ask; do you want to be a mother?" Open the floodgates. Without hesitating I choked out through tears, "You know, I never used to. But now...now I desperately want to be a mommy." Hearing myself say those words shook me to my core--they were so raw and true and unknown to me in many ways. How had I not acknowledged this desire before? "Yea. I thought so. And you know what? You had to go through all of that for her." For her. Whoa. So, my 28th birthday is around the corner. I've outlined in my journal what the "perfect" June 20th, 2012 would specifically look like and I'm pretty proud to say my wish list came out really simply. That is to say, the desires that naturally came up (that's my favorite part of journaling--the ability to be real and raw over and over again) are all very simple--there is nothing unachievable or far reaching or overly selfish and superficial. There is mostly just a humble desire to be surrounded by love in various shapes and forms. To be in the moment and to sit comfortably and safely in whatever arises. And to be grateful for the gift of 28 years of life. It is so easy to spiral into negative thinking; to let regrets, jealousies, comparisons, worries of the unknown consume us. What am I doing with my life? Where is this headed? Why did that happen? Someone..please..anyone..tell me what was the point of it all and what exactly is yet to come. But where does this kind of thinking tend to lead us? No place I'd like to dwell, that's for sure. Maybe I will someday have a little girl like C's vision suggested. Maybe I'll be a mom with a partner or a mom flying solo. Maybe things were what they were and are what they are so that I can be the best mother I could possibly be. Or maybe the past 5 years had to unfold as they did for her in the sense of my own spirit. She is me and I am her--and for her, I now know I would do anything. I know it is my divine right to do anything for her. Either way, the point is that it was worth it. It was all worth it. Regardless of where my path leads me I can know it is exactly as it should be so long as I live in a space of faith, love, kindness and gratitude... ...So long as I continue to muster the courage to hold the authentic corners of my heart in the palms of my hands and marvel at their beauty. Pretty good place to start 28, don't ya think? love and light, Trish Michael Chase gave a beautiful talk at the Hay House Ignite conference I attended back in March titled "A Revolution of the Heart: Igniting the Power of Kindess Within" that I was reminded of during my time in Costa Rica. One of the sentiments from his lecture that has stuck with me was the concept of receiving--or allowing others to give to you as an ultimate act of kindness.
Upon first hearing this, my discomfort immediately set in. Eeek, kindness in receiving? How awkward. I have the willies just thinking about that. We're supposed to give, not take. The truth is we are often conditioned to believe, whether it be from a parent or teacher or just general elder, that receiving can be a sign of selfishness or greed or even arrogant entitlement. We are taught that giving is good, great, grand, wonderful (and it super duper is!) but never really trained to receive in big, bold, beautiful ways as well. Michael told a sweet story of a time when receiving should have been an act of kindness from him, which I will attempt to summarize for you here. He explained that in his town lived a well known homeless woman. One afternoon Michael offered this woman a ride just a few blocks from where she stood in the rain to the local Walmart, where she needed to go. She accepted and when they arrived at their destination a few minutes later the woman attempted to give Michael $3 as a thank you for the ride. Of course his gut reaction was to politely decline her offer (which is completely natural) over and over, despite her insistence. He confessed that in retrospect he should have accepted her money; not because, by any stretch of the imagination, he needed or "deserved" the $3. But it was a gesture of pride, equality, kindness and gratitude from the woman and in turning her down, he prevented her from being a part of the energy exchange between them. Multiple times during my Costa Rican excursion I was told I needed to get better at receiving. My first thought? Girl (boy), you cray cray...I receive just fine, thanks! Then my beautiful new friend Julie pulled me aside on the 3rd day of the retreat and said "So, I want to do something for you, and you can't say no." ...which of course instantly made me want to say no, without even knowing what this something was. "You are such a giving person and I think you need to be better at receiving, so I'm giving you one of my spa appointments, already paid for, and well, you just have accept it." My ego voice shouted NO!, cringed and wanted to run away...I'm apparently pretty bad at receiving compliments as well as tangible gifts. But instead I gulped, hugged her swiftly and said "Despite how uncomfortable this makes me, I accept your incredibly thoughtful and generous gift, thank you." Julie was so excited for me to enjoy my amazing massage that I realized simply by accepting her kindness I, in turn, extended kindness right back. From start to finish my body work was heavenly and I am still overwhelmed with gratitude for her gift. Then, a few days later, I injured my foot while surfing and realized even more deeply that whoa, I am one stubborn little lady. I didn't want to accept help from anyone, not even as I limped along wincing in pain. But once I let 14 of some of the most beautiful and loving and divinely feminine ladies I've ever met step up to aid me in ordinary tasks that now were slightly more difficult (as if I ever had a choice--these mamas were fiercely insistent!), I felt supported and loved and cared for. The fact of the matter was that they wanted to help me and if the tables had been turned I deeply would have wanted to help them, too. The bottom line? As Michael said, both giving AND receiving energies must flow for the world to be a better place. Let people give to you, share with you, praise you, appreciate you and help you. Seriously, let people help you. Saying thank you and accepting these gifts is part of the exchange of being human. It's part of what connects us and keeps us as one. In Gratitude, Trish Nosara, Costa Rica "You know that dreamy look of deep, soulful love you've sometimes seen in the eyes of another as they gazed into your own, Tricia ? Expect a lot more of it. ps- You are so deserving." -The Universe During my magical Costa Rican retreat I dug down deep into the depths of my being and I came up with...much to my surprise and delight...so. much. space. Space for connection. Space for forgiveness and patience, trust and faith. Space for what is yet to come. Space, most importantly, for love. When my friends come to me with questions on love and relationship struggles I almost always start my humble opinion off with the notion that there is truly no script to life. What works for one individual or one couple does not necessarily work for another. My opinion is simply that--just one single thought in a sea of millions. But, here is what I think is most important for them to remember regardless of the specific situation; s.p.a.c.e. 1. It is crucial to ask yourself what it is you really want and whether or not you are being entirely authentic. Can you speak your truth? Is this a space of openness? 2. How much of this "problem" is about the other person? And I mean really about them. Check in with yourself. What personal fears or doubts or insecurities might you be projecting on them to cause a disturbance in your flow together? Is there a blockage in your shared space from anything dealing with the past? Open up to the space of now, instead. 3. Hold space for you. Expand. Explore the abundance of possibilities found in opening your heart to others with love and compassion. But don't force it. Real love is an exchange between 2 people. Sure, some days one person will naturally make more of an effort than the other...heck, some months or years this may be true. But as a general rule, your space should feel as if there is a core of common ground. Strength in your differences; comfort where you overlap. 4. Let go a little. Space for breathing room (deep, full bellied breathing room) can work wonders on a sticky situation. My friend and coworker always tells me to "give it 100 hours" before making a move. My bestie always says "patience, young grasshopper". And to my fabulously single readers, I give you Pema Chodron: I loved my friend Kim's comment on my surfing post 2 days ago--I think it actually applies quite beautifully here;
"....Learning to surf is so much about just showing up. Spending time in the water, even if you're not 'catching waves' is educational and important. And there's no way to know when that breakthrough is coming. Let's say each person needs to attempt (and fail) at a certain number of waves. For you, it could be 25 waves. For me, it could be 78, for someone really good, it's probably 5 waves. The point is, you don't know exactly how many waves it's going to take for you to stand up, but every attempt puts you one wave closer to your magic number. So it would be pretty silly to for me to give up on wave 77, if my breakthrough wave is just around the corner at #78." Dead on, Kim! I guess what I'm trying to say is, for me (and my humble recommendation to you is), even if it takes 1,000 more tries, I will never stop opening my heart for love and those deep, soulful gazes. I will never stop exploring the boundless space of my heart in every friendship, relationship, partnership or brief encounter...and with myself, too! Single or not-so-single, I hope you continue to widen your heart. I promise, love is waiting to rush in... ...And you are so deserving. In Gratitude, Trish **HUGE thank you to Miss Pamela for the photos and video!!** My title here at Weebly, officially printed on my lovely business cards (thanks, Justin!), is Joyologist. To be blunt--I LOVE it. Borderline obsessed with it. Proud to hand it to folks and watch the smiles and chuckles as they read it out loud. I get such a kick out of it still, even after a year and a half! At first, this title started out as a bit of a joke--playful creativity in a company that supports all things creative and playful (mega points: Weebly!). But now I can honestly say I try to embody its meaning with my whole heart and soul. Hello, I'm Trish, and I'm in the business of Joy. I have this theory about life: either you laugh along with it as the leading, starring, shining role, or it's gonna laugh you right off the stage. Feeling pain is for sure a part of the gift that is being alive. Yep, the gift. So by no means do I believe we should avoid or squash or cover up those moments of less-than-happy. They are real and have much value if we let ourselves process them fully. But I also believe that Joy is our natural state of being; I believe that being joyful is our divine right. If something or someone is not helping to boost your joyful experience, it may be time to reevaluate their role in your life. My trip to Costa Rica was an amazing reminder of how deeply I wish to embody my Joyologist title. It was a reminder of how to allow myself to connect with others in true and authentic ways. These two ladies below will, hopefully, be my forever friends thanks to the vulnerability we permitted between us. When you get real, the Joy will always intensify. It was a reminder to dance simply because it feels good. For example, me shaking my booty on Julie's lap (I can't stop giggling at my Popeye face!).... It was a reminder to play. Costa Rican tour guides want to challenge me to standing up on the bumpy truck ride up the mountain? Bring. It. On. It was a reminder to be silly. I try to never take things too seriously, though I am always serious about living. And it was a reminder to let go, let myself fly and be free.... How much Joy are you allowing in your life?
In Gratitude, Trish, your neighborhood Joyologist I wanted to break my surf board in half. The frustration building up inside of me was so heated after my 5th fall, I think I genuinely had the adrenaline-based strength to actually break my board in half. How can I be sucking at this so hard? I'm a dancer and a yoga practitioner...how is my balance so undeniably bad on this board? And why the hell am I shaking so much? When I checked in with myself, I was forced to ask the important questions of; Why are you being so hard on yourself and why is this making you so nervous/scared/insecure? The answer was clear. About a year ago I went to Hawaii on a last minute trip with a guy I was dating for a few months. To summarize the epic failure of the trip, I will tell you we ended our...relationship? I'm not sure it can even be called that...about a week later. The trip wasn't actually all bad (I am still very grateful for his generosity and the laughs shared), but it was mostly eye opening to not only the vast differences of our personalities but also the enormous amount of doubt we both carried in ourselves as individuals and as a couple. To put it simply, we were not ready for each other. During this trip my travel buddy insisted on my giving surfing a try. Why not? I thought, surfer girls are super bad ass. I wanted him to have a good time, too, and so I squashed my nerves and agreed to give it a shot. My friends...I was anything but "bad ass". Embarrassment #1: The rented long board was so heavy I couldn't carry it to the water and was left behind to struggle, dragging it awkwardly thru the sand like a small child, much to the horror of the other "real" surfers. Embarrassment #2: My only instructions were to "paddle when I say and then push yourself up". Um, hi. Have you seen my scrawny arms? Picture Paris Hilton and Popeye's Olive Oil attempting to row a raft to shore with just their arms. This scenario is neither cute nor effective. Embarrassment #3 (this actually cracks me up to think about in retrospect): When I finally made it up on my board I had a mild panic attack, shocked at the sensation of standing on a wave, and thus reacted by running straight off the tip of the board, full steam ahead, opposite-of-gracefully face planting into the water. When I emerged from the sea my travel companion looked at me, blinked and said with the straightest of faces, "I...I don't even know what to say. I have never seen anything so awkward in my life." Quite the ego boost, right? (Though I am now giggling at the mental image of myself). Embarrassment #4: I felt completely unattractive in my bathing suit and if I'm really honest, my partner did nothing to make me feel otherwise. While I know it's never smart to put your self confidence in the hands of another, let's be serious--what girl wouldn't want her man slice boosting her self esteem on an exotic vacation by letting her know he thinks she's beautiful as she is? So there it was. My fear of surfing stemming from residual hurt and insecurities of my first attempt almost exactly, to the day, one year ago. Thankfully, in it's ever so beautiful way, the Universe helped me by sending the following messages: 1. One of the amazing coaches leading my retreat met me at the shoreline and, after asking if I was OK, reminded me to trust the process. She reminded me that, in the end, it really is totally OK and acceptable if I don't stand up on the board today; that I should applaud myself for giving it a try and respect where I am in this learning process. It was a reminder that I am calling the shots--if the activity was proving to be too frustrating or anger inducing, I had every right to stop whenever I wanted. There was no need to give away that power. There is no need to really ever give away our power. 2. I had witnessed a fellow retreat participant pop gracefully up on her board a number of times in a row, celebrating her victories as a first timer while also brimming with jealousy. Then on one particular attempt this wonderful woman had a slip of a hand that caused her to falter on her stance. Instead of rolling off her board or continuing to push thru and inevitably falling due to lack of balance, she simply posed in Cobra (yoga position) and rode the wave in on her belly with a huge smile on her lifted-to-the-sun face. Duh, Trish. Smile a little. Have FUN for gosh sake. Don't be so damn hard on yourself. Everyone...EVERYONE...is a beginner at some point. We only get one shot at this specific life and we are all, always, beginners at it. 3. My surf instructor, Adrian, had marked our boards with wax in the positions where our feet should go. I realized I was focusing so hard on placing my feet in exactly the right spots that I was forgetting 2 key elements--1) when you look down, you go down, so keep your eyes ahead of you and 2) surrender to the wave. Surrender to my instincts. Surrender to knowing my body and my balance and my comfort zones better than marks on a board ever could. Surrender to the knowing *feeling* of when and where to pop up. I had forgotten the importance of giving up the planning, getting out of my head, going with the flow (literally, the ocean is always flowing!) and just surrendering. I took a deep breath and paddled back out. I stated, out loud, "I am so grateful to have caught a wave!", smiled at the immense sea and...well... As you can see I was quite surprised (and delighted!) to be standing :)
I'm proud to say I stood up a number of other times, feeling exhilarated and vindicated and just...well...bad ass. If you'd like to see any of the other surfing photos, you'll have to kill me first (or pay me $100 per photo). I cried from laughing so hard at them yesterday--I look as if I'm either horrified, about to drown, trying to go to the bathroom or a combination of all three. Hysterical! And also never seeing the light of day. Sweet friends, We are all beginners. Eyes up. Look forward. That which you manifest lies ahead. Have fun. Smile. Affirm what is yours. Respect and trust your process. Get out of your own way. Stop the judgments and comparisons. Don't give away your power. Surrender... ...then surrender some more. You will live quite the bad ass existence when you do. In Gratitude, Trish Guest Post By: Anonymous Yesterday you said tomorrow. A few weeks ago I was diagnosed with Cancer. The bad kind. The “10% of patients live to see another year kind”. The “I wish Google wasn’t around” kind. Suddenly my tomorrows became yesterday. The years of planning, hoping and dreaming all came to a screeching halt. I was suddenly faced with the possibility that 25 years of aspiration and preparation would culminate with a few months of frantic activity - a summer of scratching off bucket list items and crossing off life’s to-do list. Over 9,000 times I had banked on the dependability of tomorrow. Now, I only had today. Nothing can prepare you for the moment you find out you have a 1/10 chance of making it to Christmas. There’s finality to it. There’s weight. The need to spend as much time with your loved ones as possible fights a constant battle with the want to distance yourself and minimize the pain of good-bye. Days are spent alternating between silent sadness and frantic preparation. Nights are spent accepting fate and bargaining for more time. Clinging to the slim sliver of hope, I went about my daily business cherishing everything I could. Taking one today at a time. Reflection became a huge part of my existence. I replayed my successes and failures, the proud choices and shameful mistakes, the sins I had committed and the mitzvahs I had performed. I tallied the accomplishments and missed opportunities. I wanted to leave in peace with myself - with who I was as a person. I couldn’t help but keep score. Would I be remembered? What was my legacy? Did I make an impact? The unmistakable truth was that, while I was able to accept my overall contribution to the world, I kept thinking of the lost time. If I would have known I only had 25 years, how much more could I have accomplished? How many times would I have parked myself in front of the TV? How many fewer times would I have hit the snooze button? How many times had I used tomorrow to justify a lackluster today? Carpe Diem went from cliché to mantra. It had never made more sense. I would give anything for the opportunity to seize the shit out of more days. But, the truth remained; I was about to pick a number from 1 to 10. Pick the wrong number and there is no second chance. No tomorrows. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I received my second chance. I’ll make it to tomorrow and hopefully the next day. Maybe I still have something to offer the world, maybe I have a few stories to share. The one thing I know is that I’ll take my second chance. I’ll spend each today trying to justify a tomorrow, not the other way around. What will you do tomorrow? "Actually, Tricia , if you understood the extraordinary gifts every single challenge in your life makes possible, even inevitable, you'd celebrate your challenges, new and old alike, as the omens that they are of new beginnings, spectacular change, and enhanced superpowers.... Perfect for where you are, huh?" -TUT Tomorrow I leave for an exotic vacation/retreat in beautiful Costa Rica...
...by myself. Whoa. For some, perhaps a trip for 1 to a yoga, surfing, self-loving beach retreat is a bit on the self indulgent side. Trust me--I have had my moments thinking the same thing. But I have also been sending gratitude out every moment of every day since I booked this retreat for my ability to afford it, my ability to take the time off for it (thank you, Weebly!), the challenges that have sparked the desire for such a trip in the first place and for the freedom to embrace this new beginning. I am humbled, thankful and beyond-butterflies-in-my-tummy excited. Look, here's what I like to tell my friends--People will come and go from your life. You'll change jobs, you'll change relationships, you'll change partnerships, you'll move, you'll grow and quite frankly every living thing on this planet dies eventually. No living soul has permanence here. But the one person you are stuck with...day in and day out, sun up to sun down...until your very last breath, whether you like it or not, is yourself. You might as well be your own friend, you know? You might as well learn to love yourself unconditionally. So if you've ever stopped yourself from filling up your insides with ooey gooey, mushy gushy love from the succulence that is you because your ego voice (and possibly the voices of others who have yet to accept this key truth to life), let me remind you of something: It starts here (imagine me with my hands over my heart)... ...But, by no stretch of the imagination, does it stop here. When you allow yourself the time and space to get right in your soul--when you give yourself permission to call yourself friend, to send yourself love on a daily basis, to practice forgiveness and patience with the one person you.are.literally.stuck.with your whole life--you shift (for the better!) every connection around you as well. You will brighten another persons day. You will strive for greatness, in whatever way that is meaningful to you. You will be kinder. You will be a better friend, lover, sister, employee. And perhaps most importantly, you will inevitably encourage others to be their own friend, too--to value their worth, shed their labels and doubts and simply help them live more authentically. You will encourage them to shine and share their light. You will encourage them to stop just existing and really start living. So tell me, please, what's so self indulgent about that? For one. For all. In Gratitude, Trish I can't even tell you how frequently this mantra has been looping through my mind the past few weeks. It's something my coach, T, tells me almost every session we have together and I've found it to be one of the most beneficial pieces of advice I could ever follow. When I give up the need for control (i.e. be open to everything but attached to nothing) I have to recognize that I become beautifully in sync with life, from the big to the little and back again. Need an example? You got it. In one week: * I found my favorite pair of sunglasses that were presumably stolen 2 months ago the very day I had intentions of purchasing (expensive) replacements. Phew! I'm back to looking bad ass while saving my squinting eyes from crows feet. * I also found my favorite ring purchased during SF bestie weekend, which I thought I had lost (apparently I lose a lot of things. oopsies.) * An old friend came back into my life and has proven to be a complete and utter breath of fresh air. I'm loving the ease, fun and excitement of our reconnection. We've mutually agreed to trust the process together (no pressure + total honesty + willingness to be vulnerable + LOTS of playfulness = one happy Trish) and it's awesome to see the ways in which things are slowly (but steadily) clicking into place for us. * And most humbling: I was asked by Weebly to be in their promo video for our new iPhone App, which I'm so excited to share with you here: When we trust the process essentially what we are saying to the Universe is that we know things are aligning for our greater good--and we have the fearless, worry free patience to wait for them. Am I perfect at it? Heck no...particularly the "worry free" aspect. I certainly have my moments where my ego's swirlings bring me to a screeching hault of anxiety. There are even regretful times when I lose my cool in response to another person or situation. But I've learned, thankfully, that this is life. The good with the bad, the highs with the lows. The negative does not define me...and honestly? Neither does the positive. And I've learned to turn to my go-to mood boosters to alleviate the anxiousness of less-than-sunny times: A dance party for one, a brisk walk outside, a few quiet moments in meditation, a vent to my best friend, a mental mantra on repeat and most importantly, taking gratitude inventory. By not dwelling on my missteps or punishing myself for being human (the ego is simply an obnoxious part of our makeup whether we like it or not), I'm able to get back in the flow; being open to everything, but attached to nothing.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Cheers to trusting the process. Happy Friday, Grateful Lifers! In Gratitude, Trish alcatraz, sf My steam heat clatters and clanks in its metal cage tucked in the corner of my cozy and mildly over-priced studio apartment (I pay for a lifestyle, I justify to myself). The 30x bus coughs and sighs outside as it carries iPhone (and a few straggling Blackberry) yielding suits to their respective offices downtown. The hardwood flooring creaks under my bare feet as the sounds of fellow tenants rousing from their beds echoes in the shared breezeway, coming through the cracked window inside my shower. “Be wary of what you say in your bathroom”, my building manager once said, “if you don’t want 306, 406 and 506 to know any of your secrets”. Be also wary of where you place your favorite shampoo—one wrong elbow nudge and it may plummet to its death at the bottom of the air shaft, a place I can never seem to fully bring myself to look down into. Another day living in the Marina has begun. I will be the first to admit my neighborhood gets a bit of a bad, yet not entirely unwarranted, reputation. We are often referred to as fraternity and sorority row as our collection of young professionals (hint: finance, corporate, tech and a side of start up) still sometimes embodies a young and wild and free energy that can induce an eye roll or two from outsiders. The frustrations of 20-something women analyzing a text message conversation from the night before can be heard in many of our local spots (“but seriously, what does this really mean?”). Sometimes the fault lies in the behavior of their most recent man-slice (charming, fit, successful, heavily influenced by his friends); other times it can be pointed at the gal hoping for his attention (charming, fit, successful, heavily influenced by her friends). “Cute” is the word of the hour; tops, shoes, puppies, boys, girls, moms with strollers. “Cute” is our token adjective. Nobody loves or does a Sunday trifecta of brunch--shopping--mani/pedis quite like a Marina girl. Nobody appreciates Bud Lights--take out--bromances quite like a Marina guy. But there is much more to this neighborhood than a few Peter Pans, unwilling to fully grow up yet, and the Wendys who spend too much time believing they can change them. We teach people how to treat us, after all. We create the buttons being pushed, make the assumptions and take things unnecessarily personally regardless of location. I’d venture to say the dating scene here really isn’t much different than anywhere else in the world--folks just searching for something or someone to varying degrees of “serious”. Folks just searching in general. Seeing as within any neighborhood I’d bet I could find a bruised ego or two caused by insecurities and miscommunications in a relationship (does anyone else wish dating didn’t involve texting and Facebook?) I choose to look at my neighborhood through eyes of total love and gratitude. On a school morning the sound of tween-aged girls and boys squealing, laughing and oh-so-awkwardly interacting can be heard on Chestnut Street. Having a middle school here ensures a level of ‘safe’ that, while slightly geeky to admit, helps me feel better about walking home. The strong presence of young families helps to create a nook of small town community in an otherwise bustling city. The sound of the foghorn, barely noticeable to anyone who inhabits this side of town after a period of time, lulls us all to sleep--a reminder of the beautiful, immense sea just around the corner. We are alive with hopeful energy on a Saturday night. We are deliciously calm and quiet on early Sunday mornings. The Palace of Fine Arts glows in our evenings; the sailboats and sea gulls ride the breeze in our days. Admit it, you’ve totally checked out a Marina girls butt before (the secret is in the Lululemon), enjoyed a margarita or 3 at Tacolicious and had a “damn, that view never gets old” moment down by Crissy Field after your run along the Bay. The Marina can be quite the guilty pleasure if you let it. (And nope, that view really does not ever get old). I am really proud to call this neighborhood my home. I am really proud of how hard I fought for this life. I’m proud of how I’ve worked to earn my place in San Francisco and I’m proud to show off where I live to out of town visitors. A sandwich to go from Lucca Deli, a shopping trip at Heritage Row, a drink at Delarosa and a stroll down by the water with the best damn cream puff you’ll ever have (courtesy of Pacific Puffs) never ceases to impress my guests. “You’re so lucky to live here”, they say. And I know they are completely right. It is indeed a fortunate life. It’s not all collegiate Greek-like drama down here, I promise. There are some really genuine, generous and awesome folks living in this neck of the woods that can guarantee you a good time, a real friendship and maybe even an exciting romance. There are hard working, educated and motivated people residing in this corner of San Francisco. I choose to see my neighborhood through eyes of love and gratitude because perspective truly is the key to a happy life, regardless of where you live... …Because eventually, Peter Pan does choose to grow up. And I’m sure he and Wendy are living happily ever after…just up the hill in Pacific Heights. In Gratitude,
Trish I have always loved my parents. Even during my angsty-est of angsty years, I loved them in a way that my rebellious teenaged soul couldn't resist.
But what's been awesome to learn over the past year especially? I actually like my parents. I spent so much time running and pushing and aching to grow, be free and fly that I neglected to stop and cherish the quiet moments of pleasant stillness offered by time spent with them. I don't think this is a particularly uncommon path for parent-child relationships. This is not a ground breaking story; girl grows up and relationship with mom and dad evolves to a more mature and peaceful place. I'm just glad I've learned (before 30!) the balance between continuing to push, grow, be free and fly and coming back to cherish and nurture my roots. Both are important sides of life. I can't tell you how wonderful it feels to sit in front of the fire place at home, watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory with them, munching on brownies and milk and just be...content. And happy. And not wondering what everyone else is doing or itching to go out and adventure on my own. Being with them is fulfilling enough when I choose to see that time as equally as worthy as all the rest; when I change my perspective and practice gratitude for moments I may otherwise take for granted. It feels great to realize that often times when I felt I wasn't being supported for a certain decision it was because I approached them with said decision already projecting that they wouldn't approve. I made assumptions. I set the energy. I manifested the result. How is anyone supposed to get behind you when you yourself are doubting? Do you feel you are capable of handling this decision? Are worthy of it? Or are there insecurities you are masking and hoping to hide? When you approach others with a degree of confidence--even if that confidence lies in the knowledge that eventually you'll figure out the areas of "unsure"--I think you'll be amazed to see how much faster folks will get on your side. My parents and I still have varying differences of opinion in many areas of life. But that's OK. We're all adults and can respect these differences; there's no need for a clash when there can be a dialogue instead. I can only control my own actions and must release that desire for control over the rest. Parents are humans, too. This was, admittedly and slightly embarrassingly, a huge revelation for me. They are partners and daughters and coworkers and friends in addition to being your parents. They have their own suffering, too. They have their own insecurities. They approach life just as you do--from their own level of understanding and consciousness. See them through eyes of love and understanding of this humanness, and you will see them in a whole new light. I know not everyone gets to be around their parents. I also know some child-parent relationships are wrought with a level of true darkness that requires much more than a few good thoughts to heal. This time of year especially is a pretty big reminder of that. So today (and every day I'm back in good ol' NJ) I'm focusing the majority of my gratitude on my mom and dad and the gifts of their support, love and (sometimes slightly eye-roll with a side of "yes ma, I know" enducing) guidance. I've said it before and I'll say it again--I have never doubted that they would go to the end of the earth and back again for me. How fortunate am I? My parents apparently are pretty rad people. Who knew? :) In Gratitude, Trish |
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