How is Love Healing?

Lately, I have been at the NYU Health Center more than I have been in the library. No Bueno. In addition to my diagnosis of Celiac Disease 5 years ago, I was recently diagnosed (yesterday) with a new list of autoimmune conditions. 

This got me thinking of my body.  I take good care of my body- I eat a healthy gluten-free diet, my biggest indulgence is a creamy hazelnut coffee in the morning, and I work out 4x a week.  Still--I wasn't able to escape the lil' creeper we will call A.I. (short for auto-immune). 

This got me to thinking of how each human body is like a symphony of different instruments.  Each instrument can do their part; but somehow it just doesn't come to together in unison.  Or, one instrument is going so haywire, it is all that you can listen to.  If only...that one violin would just speed up and get in tune with the rest of the symphony....that violin is kinda like what is happening to my thyroid, and it is wreaking 'havoc' on my body.  This post is not about my own little pity party.  But, rather a sharing of my experience, because it happens to many women in their 20s-30s.  The hard part is that autoimmune conditions are really sneaky, and many people go undiagnosed and untreated. 

So--If you feel like the little engine that could (but can't chug up that hill like you once could), go get checked!

Anyway, while that slow violin catches up to the rest of the symphony, I am grateful for the lead drummer of my body.  My heart, who keeps the beat going throughout the day. The heart that beats and drums for love. I am woman with a heart that guides the symphony-- with a drum beat that is steady and sure.  Even as the rest of my body tries to find the beat, I am grateful that I have someone in my life who makes my heart drum.


I find it funny that one of Jim's favorite songs is Little Drummer Boy (isn't he full of surprises?)
Well, he is the drummer of my heart-

"Then he smiled at me, pa rum pum, pum, pum
me and my drum."

So, Yes.  Love, you are healing.
I am sure you are strong enough to combat the sneaky A.I. ;)

Take these words I give you...

I just finished a Winter Class intercession class! Freedom!! (for four days until my last semester of graduate school begins) 

In this next semester, I will be living and breathing my thesis.  In addition to internship, a full time class-load, and my 100- page thesis, I will be trying to have a social life.  It should be interesting!

In wonderful news, I have decided on my thesis topic: The importance of distilling the embodied experience of drama therapy into metaphor (specifically written poetry).  

I began to think how this blog is serving in my thesis topic.  We embody our life each day-- It really is up to us to decide how we want to remember it.  We (not anyone else) encode our experiences into our memories.  This made me happy, as I realized that we have the power to decide how we want to view life--THROUGH OUR WORDS.

How do we take an experience and distill it into words?  Sometimes, it is about trying to find the perfect word to describe how you feel.  How difficult! I find this experience so important (which is why I have kept a journal for 5 years)! 

When I re-read my journals, I rely on my words to bring me back to the experience.  The stories that I have written for myself bring me back to different parts of my life.  I can re-crystallize the experience into the here and now.  

Language is so important.  I love the English language.  It allows me to express myself.  Finding the perfect word to describe how I feel is like... having a warm (gluten-free) chocolate chip cookie, and dipping it into hot a soy mocha-chino on a Winter's day! 

Write a journal. We have the power to encode our experiences into our memory.  

Distill your experiences.  Think Positively!

How we remember... is how we distill it ;)

Winter Sun

Throughout this winter, I have observed that the city can look different as the sun shimmers and reflects upon it.  The dark gray colors of the city come to life as the sun shines--the color gray is instantly transformed to brilliant hues of red, crimson, gold, bright blue, and emerald green.

If this is what happens to the city, I began to wonder what happens to us when the sun comes out.  Do our sparkling colors come out to shine when we bask in the sun's glow?

 I realized that a sunny day does change my perspective.  I look outside on a day filled with sunshine...I know that it is cold, but the sunlight invites me out---out from my cozy apartment, but also out from the gray shell shielding all the colors within me. 

Here is my toast to sunshine! Thanks for your ability to transform the city that I love from a dull and dreary metropolis to a vibrant city full of color.  And, a sincere thank you for giving me a perk on these cold and dreary winter days. 

What is Freedom?

    Today, I started a Winter Session class on Cross-Cultural Counseling.  In the afternoon, I traveled with my fellow NYU graduate students to the Museum of Jewish Heritage.  At the museum, I met two Holocaust Survivors who shared their stories of survival with us.  As I process and reflect on my experience at the museum, it is hard to put into words the visceral reactions that I had in my body, in my mind, and in my heart.  The stories that they shared were that of survival, of hope, and of the sheer will to live against all the odds.  

      The woman survivor described how she was taken to Auschwitz.  In a moment that I will never forget for the rest of my life, she raised her sleeve to show the number tattooed on her arm.  She described how her survival depended on split-second decisions that she made; the decision to run, to hide, to change from the line of death to that of life, to move to the sick ward with her sister, to split from her sister, to plead for her life, and to run again.  She ran back to freedom... but a freedom that orphaned her without parents, without a home, and without her sisters.  At the end of her story, she shared that she was unable to laugh for 25 years and still to this day has not been able to cry.

  

As I walked out of the museum, I saw the sun setting over the Statue of Liberty.
The symbol of freedom.

I thought "Will she ever experience again the freedom of a laugh or the freedom of a cry?"

For every sunset, there is a sunrise.

That is where hope is born--
                   my hope for her, my hope for humanity.


So, I ask: What is freedom?

Taxi Cab Confessions!

Some of the most interesting conversations I have had in this city were with the taxi drivers at 2 in the morning coming home from a long day's work waitressing at Wine and Roses.  After working there 3-4x a week for almost two years, I have met many different taxi drivers in this city.  They told me stories of their families, the trials of being a taxi driver in NYC, and their day lives. I listened.  It was my favorite way to end the day's work.  They told me stories of...

  Freedom..

  

 Dance..

 and Community.  They told me stories of Finding their Niche, of Music, and of Soul Searching...

 and of Passion.

They shared Love stories.

 and their stories of Struggle, and of Being Witnessed...

They talked about the Thrill of NYC, of Hard work, and of Dedication.

 They shared stories of Serenity, Quiet, Prayer...

 and Peace.

They shared stories of Happiness and of Laughter.

They told me their stories of life, of love, and of struggle. I am grateful.  By nature, we are social beings. We like to talk, and we like to listen.  I realized that all I needed to do in order to hear their story was so simple. Just ask.  It really is that simple. 

So...

I ask you, What are the words of your story?

A Central Perk

     One of my favorite places for solace in this city is Central Park.  This morning, I took full advantage of the 50 degree weather in New York City's playground as I laced up my pink Asics shoes and headed out for a morning run.  As I ran the inner loop in the park, I was in awe of the beauty of the park on this particular morning.  The heat was thawing out the ground of the park, and a beautiful foggy mist laid fifteen feet above the pavement that held the pounding of New York's morning runners.
    I began to take in the different parts of the park that held this ethereal white mist.  There I was--running on the earth that was thawing out from the cold.  The ground was literally thawing itself out, and I bathed in the beauty of its steam.  As my breath formed it own steam in the air, my thoughts began to race about this parallel between me and the ground that I walk and run ;) on every day.
     Through my morning runs, I am able to heat up my body from within.  When I start off my run, I am like the ground on a cold winter's day.  I am frozen, achy, and feel disconnected from my body, mind, and spirit.  As I heat my body from within, I let off all kinds of steam on my morning runs--literally a steamy breath that presses into the cold air.  But, even more than that--I allow myself to blow off the steam of stress that comes from living in a metropolis.  I am given a sense of solace as my legs give me the ability to explore this park in all of the different seasons.  For me, running is like an electricity as power begins to flow in my body, my mind, and my spirit.  I literally thaw out the cold streams of stress and anxiety, and breathe in the heat of power and solace.
     On this morning run, I began to think of how we thaw ourselves out.  When we feel cold in our lives, how do we heat ourselves up from within?  This morning, I saw how the ground was unable to thaw itself out without the warm weather.  So, the question becomes--What do we need in our lives to remain inspired, in heat, and passionate?  What do we need to thaw out when we become cold? Every person in this world has a different answer.  Maybe it is a run, maybe it is the love of friends and family, or maybe it is knowing that you are who you are supposed to be.  Who knows? That is a question that lies within us--one that we search for on a daily basis.
      As I came around the loop full circle, I look down the hill to see where I first saw the foggy mist 35 minutes ago.  It was gone.  After hot and cold spent time getting acquainted, the steam disappeared.  Hot and cold diminish, and warmth is born.  When we allow fiery parts of our selves to meet with the cold and uninspired parts, we can ignite and heat ourselves from within.  We will be forever changed. What are we waiting for to heat up our lives? Seriously, a little steam hurts no one ;)

    So, what is the moral of this story? I think that it resides in knowing ourselves enough to not allow our inner fire to be extinguished.  It is about knowing what we need to keep the heat within us.  It is about being warm enough to allow all parts of our selves to be inspired by life.  As I took one look at the road where the foggy mist once was, I ran back to my home warmed up in my body and mind.  I was willing, ready, and able to ignite my day...  I call that one hell of a Central Perk!

New Year City Style (1.1.11)

      New Year's morning; One of my favorite moments of my day is the experience of twilight sleep, the moment before I am fully awake and yet am still actively imagining and dreaming snuggled in my cozy and warm bed.  In this morning's twilight, I was thinking of the life that I have built for myself in NYC.  Four years ago, I remember when I moved into the city with only knowing less than a handful of people that lived in the city.  At a New Year's Party last night, I was talking to a woman who moved to the city only four months ago.  It stirred in me the feelings of being a NYC newbie--when I went home to Long Island every weekend because I did not know anyone in the city.  So many memories-- I remember going into Barnes & Noble and having coffee to see if I could spark a conversation and begin a new friendship.  I remember my good friend Chad saying to me "Your life is here in the city now.  You need to stay in the city, and build your life here now."  I took his advice, and began to stay more in the city, and less in Long Island.  

     Four years later, I reflect upon the life that I built for myself in the city.  I embarked upon the unknown, and have created a life that I love in the city.  I am grateful for Jim--my friend, my love, and my partner-- and the life that we have begun to create together in this city of life, love, sensation, and struggle.  I think of all my friends, my long-time friends from St. Ignatius, CAP, St. Anthony's, and Loyola who are always present in my heart even when we can not be in person together.  I reflect on the love, support, and zaniness of my family that have instilled in me a zest for life.  I think of all the friends that I have met here in the city, who have become so special to me in these last four years.  In New York City, I waited on tables for two years to pay for graduate school and in the process met my best friends to explore this city.

     On New Year's Eve night, I struggled my way up the stairs to a rooftop to toast to the New Year in my four inch gold heels.  As I looked at the Empire State Building with the wind whipping at my hair, I thought to myself "Wow.  I am right where I always wanted to be."  And, then I began to think of the people who built this city--Did they ever think of the people who would come in 80 years later to build their lives in the city that they built?  Even as my thoughts slowed from the one too many sips of champagne from the night's festivities, I realized that I have a lot to learn about building.  When we build, how much do we take with us from the old buildings of our lives? (I speak a lot in metaphor) Are we supposed to build our new lives fresh from the moment we arrived? Can our lives from our past fit in with the new lives that we built? These are questions that we face when we leave our home, and go out into the world to carve out and make our own.  

    So, what did I do? What any NYC gal would do. I let the questions pass for a moment, let myself take in the beauty of where I was at that moment, and stole a New Year's Kiss from my future hubby on top of a building rooftop in New York City.