Sex & The City Meets Oprah!

Writing in Aspen

2010-01-12T17:47:00.000-08:00

Day four in Aspen. Can't imagine being anywhere more lovely. I'm in a private residence at The Ritz Carlton overlooking the heated pool at the bottom of a snow capped mountain. This might actually be heaven. I'm here to finish what I started a few months ago, my latest book. The good news is that I've been fairly productive so far. Created a website, made and edited a video, opened escrow for a client, built several fires, and successfully dodged Altitude Sickness. But, I haven't worked on the book. This explains why some people say they need to take a year off to write. Well, I don't have the luxury of taking a year off. Besides, I know plenty of people who have busy careers and families, yet still manage to get their writing done. It's called discipline. I have three more days in Aspen. Surely I can get a lot done but whatever I don't finish, I will in Los Angeles. What's beautiful about being here, is how clear I am on why I have to be the one to write this particular book. To be honest, I was struggling with it before this trip. My heart was battling my head, and my heart was losing. Maybe it's the clean mountain air, or the decadence, or the utter silence of it all, but being in Aspen has shown me the way. My passion and my purpose have become one, and I would be honored to take what I do and love to another level. Heart, thanks for not giving up -- you win.

Never Too Late to Find True Love

2010-01-04T15:44:00.002-08:00

My Mother married her soulmate, Mark. Look at them. They're really that happy. They met through work and for over five years, had no physical attraction or romantic spark between them. Now they can't keep their hands off one another. They have an extraordinary love that's an honor to witness. Neither one of them was "looking," but their mutual commitment to living a dynamic life, is what ultimately brought them together. They were married on December 14, 2009 in Topanga, CA, in front of sixteen of their closest friends and family. If anyone ever tells me they are too old to find true love, I tell them about my Mom and Mark finding love at 63!

My Little Pea

2009-12-30T11:54:00.002-08:00

My little cat Pea died at 4:45 this morning. It feels like a dream. About a week ago she started vomiting every time she ate. At first I thought it was a stomach virus, or maybe the flu. But after three days, I was really worried so I took her to a vet who diagnosed her with a foreign object in her intestines. They wanted to perform surgery but I didn't really know this vet, and to be honest, didn't have the money to pay the astronomical estimate, and they wouldn't allow payments. I took Pea home. I wondered if the problem had something to do with her food. Maybe it was a bad bag. So I went to the store and got new food. In the next day and a half, like a miracle, she didn't vomit. But, there was a significant shift in her behavior. She was looking me dead in the eye, something she hadn't done before. She has always been very cuddly but in those 36 hours, she wanted to be in my arms every minute. I had never felt more connected and bonded with her. I thought I had saved her life by a simple change in diet and that she was expressing her gratitude. I was wrong. By that evening, she fell violently ill and vomited three times. Then a few more times in the middle of the night. She was worse than before. By morning, I started making calls to see if there was a vet who would be willing to do the surgery and accept payments. No one would. Then my friend told me her father offered to loan me the money. Other friends suggested I ask for donations, so I did and we were set. At the direction of a very trusted friend, I called Dr. Schwartz to perform Pea's surgery. He was worried about taking her on because it was December 29th and not only did his clinic not provide overnight care (which she would most likely need), but he was scheduled to go out of town first thing the next morning (today). Still, he told me to bring her in. He confirmed the lump in her intestines but did not think it was a foreign object. I hadn't thought it was either, because in eight years of living with this precious little animal, she hadn't ever been interested in eating anything other than her dry cat food. Dr. Schwartz was worried the lump was a tumor. He asked me how I felt about chemotherapy. I didn't want to put my little nine-pound Pea through chemo. He didn't want to do surgery without first trying a new diet and medicine to help eliminate her urge to vomit. That sounded like a good option but I was worried that, if it was indeed cancer, the tumor would continue to grow. And, how in good conscious, could I take her home thinking she had cancer while doing nothing for her except hoping the medication would stop her vomiting. It didn't make sense. I asked for another option. He suggested we do an ultrasound and we agreed it was the safest approach for vital information. The ultrasound showed her kidneys and liver looked healthy but he saw a dark spot on her spleen and thought the "tumor" was on the spleen. He said this was encouraging because she could survive without her spleen, and felt confident that, by removing it, she could have a speedy recovery. I agreed to do the surgery. I waited in a tiny room that felt more like a memorial site. On tables and on the walls, were framed pictures of people's beloved pets who had died with notes of gratitude to the doctor. I cried. After a couple of very long hours, Dr. Schwartz came out to tell me that he was wrong. He did not find a tumor on her spleen. There was a nodule under her spleen and another nodule over her stomach, so he removed those for biopsy. He did see inflammation but no evidence of cancer. I was devastated. We just opened up my poor little Pea for what seemed unnecessary. He told me to go home while Pea rested and recovered, and that he would call me when she woke. I drove home in a daze. After a couple hours, Dr. Schwartz called me to say he had good news. He said she was doing remarkably well, and that he felt comfortable sending her home with me, and to come pick her up. Feeling cautiously optimistic, I drove right back to take my baby home. An assistant handed her to me, in her carrying case, and wished me good luck. He didn't say or do anything else. I thought that was odd considering the trauma she'd just been through, and because they hadn't provided me with any protocol as to what I should be looking for, should there be any complications, much less how I should care for her at all. But the doctor couldn't see me because he was with another patient. So I put her in my car and started home. I live across town from this vet. Thirty minutes later, I was just a few blocks from my house when Pea started thrashing in her case. She was yelping in pain, panting heavily and drooling pools of saliva. I kept telling her we were almost home and tried to soothe her with my voice but she was just staring at me in a daze while crying and putting her little paw through the cage as if to say, "Momma, please help me." I pulled over to the side of the road and called the clinic. I told the receptionist Pea's symptoms and that I didn't think the doctor would want her out of his care if he could see what I was seeing. They told me to bring her back. Another thirty minutes later (and a total of an hour she had to be in my car without proper care), I arrived back at the clinic. I brought her in and they promptly took her back to the doctor. When they pulled her out of her case and onto the table I noticed her stomach was bleeding everywhere. This was more terrifying than her sounds of suffering. I asked the doctor if it was normal to send a post-op pet home who was still bleeding. He said most definitely not and, that when he had called me two hours prior, she was in much better shape. He also looked me right in the eye and said he wished he hadn't done the surgery. He was concerned about two things. He suspected she was having an allergic reaction to the penicillin and that her blood was clotting. He said the only solution was to open her back up to stop the clotting. Oh my God. I couldn't imagine putting her through another surgery just a few hours later, not to mention, his clinic didn't offer overnight care. What was I to do. He told me he we didn't have much time because he was very worried about her rapid decline and that we either do the surgery or I should put her down. Oh my God. How was I supposed to make that decision. I said I needed a moment and stepped outside and called my Mom. Finally, I had the privacy to feel my pain and started sobbing. My Mom listened as I told her that Pea was suffering severe complications, that the first surgery hadn't proved she did, in fact, have a tumor on her spleen, and that I didn't know what to do. We talked about letting her go. I didn't want my little cat to suffer any more and I couldn't imagine putting her through anther surgery. Yet, if I didn't try to do everything I could to save her life, I knew I would regret it. My mind was swirling. The unbearable raging thought was, "This morning, the doctor suggested I give her medication for her vomiting and see how that goes, but just a few hours later, I've put my darling baby through unnecessary hell only to end her life without proven cause. How did we get here?" I decided to let her go because she was simply too weak and had been through enough. My grief was beyond measure. I slowly walked back into the clinic to tell Dr. Schwartz we should put her down. But when I saw her, she looked a little more stable and he said he would like to try the surgery, if I was willing. I had never been in this type of situation. I was completely torn so I turned to him, a vet with twenty years experience, and asked him what he would do if she was his cat. He didn't hesitate and said he would do everything to try and save her life. His words hit my heavy heart and, despite my intuition that the surgery was going to be too much for Pea's little body, I told him to save her. An hour later, she was out of the operation and laying on the table. But, more bad news. Dr. Schwartz said that upon opening her up, he did not find any clotting. That may sound like good news but it meant the fucking surgery was pointless. I looked at my little Pea and stroked her head and told her how deeply sorry I was. My God, I was so sorry. I told her how very much I loved her, and that she was strong and needed to fight. She was really drugged up. They had her hooked up to IV's and breathing through an oxygen cup, but her eyes were open, and I want to believe she heard me. My darling Pea. That's when her entire body twisted in half as she began to vomit. That put me over the edge because after her first surgery, Dr. Schwartz pumped her full of the medication that would reduce, if not eliminate, her urge to get sick. It didn't work. In fact, nothing worked and now there were absolutely no answers. Only a gravely ill little Pea who had just endured more trauma than any living thing should ever have to endure for, again, what appeared to be without justified cause, except for my desperate hope and reliance of her doctor's care. The clinic was closing so we had to arrange for her transport to the ICU in a nearby animal hospital. We wrapped her up and I drove her to the emergency center. They quickly admitted her and had me sign paperwork authorizing them to do whatever necessary to save her life through the night. By this time, it was almost ten p.m. I spoke with the ER doctor on duty and she assured me she would do her very best to keep Pea stabilized and would call me if anything changed. I cried with her, this perfect stranger, but to whom I was trusting to save Pea's life. I asked if I could say please goodnight to Pea but she said I couldn't enter the ICU because there were several emergency surgeries happening and it wouldn't be safe. My heart was broken. I drove away but don't remember the drive home. I have never felt a house so empty. I asked everyone I know to pray for her. The messages of love poured in and I knew that Pea was divinely supported. I meditated for what seemed like hours but it might have been minutes because I was so emotionally exhausted. I prayed for peace of mind. No matter what was going to happen, I wanted Pea to feel calm. At 4am the emergency doctor called to say she was rapidly declining and would I authorize a plasma transfusion. I said yes and we hung up. A few minutes later, Dr. Schwartz called me to say that he was on his way to the hospital to see Pea. He feared for the worst but wanted to see for himself before any more decisions were made. I asked if I should come but he told me to stay home and assured me he would call the moment he got to her. I'll never know why this man got out of his warm bed at 4:30 in the morning to rush to Pea. I want to believe it's because he is a doctor who cared deeply and felt he made the best decisions he knows how to make, but my breaking heart is full of questions I'll never have the answers to. Forty-five minutes later, he called to tell me it was worse than he imagined. Her body had gone into shock and she wasn't going to make it. He expressed his sincerest condolences and asked if he could please put her down. I told him I wanted to come and hold her in my arms as she passed, but he said it was a sight I didn't want to see and that we didn't have time. The world stood still. How do I tell this man to put my little Pea to sleep. And how did we get here? Less than 24 hours ago she was happily purring at my feet wondering where her breakfast was. Two surgeries later with no foreign object in her intestines, no evidence of cancer, no tumor on her spleen, no blood clotting, and worse, no answers as to why she was vomiting in the first place. Someone please tell me, how did we get here? Quietly I sobbed in the pitch black of the night as I heard these words come of out my mouth, "Please ... end her suffering." I hung up the phone and couldn't move. My bed was cold and empty, and my heart was broken. I knew I had done everything I could to save my little Pea, but the pain was intolerable. All that was left to do was pray. A few minutes later the ER doctor called to say it was done and Pea had been laid to rest. I woke up this morning crying. I am mute. Pea is gone and never, ever coming back. She has been with me for eight years. I rescued her when she was ten weeks old. She knew her name when I called. She loved to play hide and seek. She loved to be picked up and be held like a baby. She liked to chase her image in the mirror, even though I'm certain she had no clue whom she was chasing. She liked to sleep under the covers when it was cold. She slept with me, every single night. She was sweet and friendly. She loved it when I'd have people over where she would lay in the middle of the room to be part of the group. She would stretch out in the morning sunlight, every single morning. She loved to go onto the terrace and gaze into the sunshine. She was happy and healthy and had never been sick a day in her life. She brought me so much love and opened my heart to a place unknown before. And, she was always, always there. Now I sit here in silence, alone. I am truly grateful for every moment, every kiss and every cuddle I shared with her, but there are no words to express my grief. I'm a Momma without her little Pea and I will miss her deeply.

S Factor

2009-07-06T19:45:00.002-07:00

I had heard of S Factor for years. Super intimidated, I never thought I'd actually take a class but secretly wished I had the courage. About four months ago, that day came. I was at the Thompson Hotel in Beverly Hills with my friend Val celebrating our mutual friends' US citizenship. A typical LA scene, the room was filled with gorgeous women. I was mesmerized by their beauty but more with their seeming ease and grace in their bodies. Val and I were chatting when suddenly our conversation turned very serious. Despite our gushing compliments about each others outfits, we each disclosed how they were not what they seemed. I was wearing a dress over jeans because I wouldn't dare shows my legs, and she was wearing a long top over jeans that wouldn't button so she had a maternity belt to pull things together! We laughed so hard we nearly fell out of our chairs. But in all seriousness, we were ridiculous. Both of us a size two, recognized we had issues and vowed to resolution.

We started talking about S Factor. Each of us had heard the same things: pole dancing, stripping and lap dancing while wearing practically nothing and six inch stripper heels. You kidding me? I was absolutely terrified but knew this was my answer, because we had also heard how empowering and liberating it was for women. Val and I agreed to try an introductory class. Meanwhile, another one of my close girlfriends Staci had also been invited to try S that very same week by a friend of hers named Janelle who happens to be an S instructor. Kismet. Against world class excuses, the three of us showed up for our intro. Practically wearing burka's, we were dressed head to toe in long sleeved black tee shirts and yoga pants, though I think Staci even added a hoodie.

So there we were, in our very first S class, completely out of control. Not in a good way. We (I can say "we" because we have discussed this in detail), were so in our heads that I'm shocked we didn't walk out. The first time Janelle told us to touch ourselves (I'm talking about an innocent caress on our thighs), I thought I was going to faint. My mind was plagued by thoughts that it was wrong and bad. Sadly, it felt foreign to behave in any manner not consistent with a goofball on a dance floor. That was me my entire life. Okay, I know I've had sexy moments but it's never been my thing to sexualize anything. I blamed it on my mother. I convinced myself that I only looked good when I covered my body because that's what she did.

After the intro, the three of us sat dazed on the floor, unable to move. We found it impossible to believe that we would ever be able to move our bodies sensually, much less take ourselves seriously while doing it. We deflected with humor, made fun of ourselves and tried everything to talk ourselves out of signing up for an eight week class. Val and I were scared but open to at least trying, and really wanted to Staci to join us. That's when she broke down and started sobbing, which made us cry because we related to everything she was saying. As she was sharing painful memories of when she made an unconscious decision not to be sexy and sensual, we just nodded through our tears because we understood. It was easier to be the funny girl, or play the intellect, or even the prude, than to embrace our sexuality. It was time to break free.

It's been four months now and we are just about to graduate Level 2. We are blown away by how far we've come. The sense of empowerment was what compelled me to enroll but the impact was underrated. The room is safe. Low red lights, no mirrors and an incredible effusive teacher who inspires us beyond words. We have fun. For the first time in my life I feel tuned into my body and the magic of being a woman. I appreciate my curves, feel comfortable, in fact amazing in my own skin, and love that I'm able to lose myself in a sultry song. I dance in tiny hot pants and bare feet, Val rocks the pole in thigh high fishnets and Staci slays us with her scantily clad moves. If anyone would've ever said that we'd be doing the things we do in class, we would've thought they were high. We love this class. S Factor is for every woman, every where. Even my 62 year old Mother. Just the other night she was at my house and after showing her the S Crawl, she said she wanted to try it. My Mom! There are no words to express my gratitude for the full circle effect.

Half Dome Hike

2008-09-15T18:08:00.002-07:00

My Mom and I just came back from hiking Half Dome in Yosemite. This hike is 8800 feet, 17 miles long and 12-14 hours to climb. We did it in a day. Climbing the mountain with my Mom (that's her in the photo, on the edge) was one of the greatest days of my life. I saw a strength and will in my Mother that I didn't know she had. She's 61 years old and the only female over 30 to hike Half Dome that day. Just amazing to witness. Words can't describe how difficult hiking for 14 hours with a 30 pound pack in 90 degree weather with almost no sleep is. Still, that was nothing compared to the last part which was downright terrifying. The harrowing steps and infamous cables stopped one hiker after another dead in their tracks. I saw men and women come down sobbing because they were so shaken. There's no way to be prepared for the disappointment of not getting to the top after climbing 12-14 hours! It's the ultimate let down. I know because I was one of the people who couldn't. But my Mom did. She was beyond exhausted but her determination was like a Fearless Warrior. I have never been more proud of her than that day.

The next morning we were packing up our hotel room and, I don’t know if it's because we were tired or what, but somehow hurtful words were exchanged. I can't really remember a time when we've ever been in a "fight" but there we were. Of course, we're okay now but the "point" of the pain around our fight was profound. Feeling the fear of heights is nothing compared to the fear of loving. What I got was how afraid people are, especially in a close relationship, to disappoint each other - so they aren't honest. We have to be so brave and emotionally mature for a relationship to work. Moreover, we must trust and allow the connection to naturally unfold, unattached to an idealized outcome. And, that's who I want to be in the world.

When we got home she sent me this Rainbow piece. Not too long ago, I had emailed it to her because it's beautiful. She said she was re-gifting it back for both of us.

The Most Beautiful Rainbow

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin. Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.

Hope

2008-08-28T17:34:00.002-07:00

I've been obsessed with the DNC all week, and tonight, with over 80,000 gathered to watch Obama's speech live, I am in awe . This historical moment not only marks the 45th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther Kings "I have a Dream" speech, but it's also the first time this many people have come together for a US political rally, much less that of an African American delivering his presidential nomination acceptance speech. We've come a long way. You'd have to be sans American heart, not to feel the electrifying energy and hope Obama brings. Witnessing and contributing to his political campaign has truly lifted my spirit. I feel gratitude in my bones for how far we've come. And, for those who got us here. I know Obama will carry the torch for a change we can believe in. This is our time, and the time is now. Yes, we can.

Nicks Memorial

2008-08-08T21:13:00.002-07:00

Today was Nicks memorial service. A beautiful gathering on the beach in Santa Monica. The weather was gorgeous - 76 and clear. I could feel Nick smiling. I really didn't know anyone there but was invited by a friend of Nicks who read my blog. I was so honored. His loved ones spoke about his way of life. In Nicks own words, "all of life comes to me with ease, joy and glory." Nicks lovely girlfriend, Lisa Todd spoke about three principles Nick truly lived by: Presence, Truth and Compassion. That, combined with heartfelt words from his friend and sister, I came to know Nick as a man of honor and grace. More than once, I was inspired and moved to tears. Funny how small our world is. The minister, Reverend Coco Stewart, is a minister at my church Agape. I don't know if Nick ever attended a service there but it somehow made me feel closer to a man I barely knew. Her words were beautiful as she spoke about Nicks eternal purpose in the lives of everyone fortunate enough to have known him. Again, thank you Nicholas Adams Harrell for being a beautiful teacher in my life and for so many others. Your light lives on ...

In Response to my post about Nick Harrell

2008-07-30T20:21:00.002-07:00

I've received many emails in response to my blog about Nick. I posted a link to my Facebook page and from there, it went viral. Friends he knew from high school, college, Chicago and even some in LA, like me, who barely knew Nick have written to express their grief and gratitude. I never imagined anyone would read my post. I was just so heartsick that I had to write something in honor of a man who taught me how to live better. It's beautiful to see what an impact he made on so many people's lives. Clearly, he was a blessed man to have known such good friends. And, from what people have told me, he was an extraordinary presence.

Losing someone we care about brings up so many emotions - love, gratitude, regret, grief, guilt, anger, confusion, disbelief and sadness. What are we supposed to say? How should we console, show our support and express our sympathy? How can WORDS ever convey all we are feeling? From our hearts, we try but it just never seems to feel right.

One of my spiritual mentors taught me a lot about words. In one single year she lost her husband, father and two sons. I can't even imagine. How is someone ever emotionally capable for such immense loss? Her social obligations alone were nearly unbearable. It's not that she wasn't appreciative for the support; she just didn't know what to say to anyone. And, how was she supposed to BE? She felt conflicted because, despite wanting to hide under the covers and cry forever, she had to be brave. One by one, she would listen to people share their grief and sorrow as they tried to comfort her. She knew everyone meant well but she felt so fragmented that she couldn't take their words in. She felt alone. Utterly alone.

Shortly after the death of her second son and the last of four of her loved ones in a year, a dear friend came to visit. He sat down next to her on the living room floor, took a deep long breath, looked into her sad eyes and said, "I don't know what to say." She burst into tears. They sat together in silence for hours. Half a day went by and they never said a word to each other. Finally, they peeled themselves off the floor and went about their evening. She told me that hearing the words, "I don't know what to say" was profoundly healing because it finally gave her the freedom not to know either.

For all who loved Nick, I am truly sorry for your loss.

Nicholas Harrell

2008-07-29T11:58:00.002-07:00

I just got back from the gym where I learned my favorite spin instructor Nicholas Harrell died in his sleep Sunday night. He was 32 years old. No one knows why yet but think it was congenital. I found this picture of him on Facebook ... God, I feel heartsick. I didn't know him outside of the gym but I loved his class. He played the best music, had an awesome positive attitude and inspired me to work hard. His class was the only one where I rode front row and center because I knew his energy would push me to new heights when I "locked in" to his rhythm; he was my Seabisquit. Today was an emotional spin. Amy, Equinox's fitness manager and today's instructor, was moved to tears as she shared the news. The class felt heavy and united. I spun from my heart, from my soul, in honor of a young man who died too soon but whose life lives on in me. I wish I would've told him how much his class meant to me. I wish he knew that when I thought I couldn't push any harder I would, because he did. I wish he knew the strength and power I felt in class that I'd carry with me throughout my day. I wish he knew the gratitude I felt knowing I could count on him to be there, every time. More importantly, I wish I would've told him these things when I could have. Today, I learned not to hold back my appreciation just because I barely know someone. Everyone wants to know their significance despite the fact they'd never admit it. Thank you Nicholas for being a beautiful teacher in my life.

Missed Call

2008-07-27T21:48:00.002-07:00

What's up with a Missed Call? I don't call people back that don't leave a message (with one exception: my sister). She's a notorious "missed caller," but I call her back because, well I guess it's a sister thing. Seriously though, are people so busy they can't even leave a message? The best is when a Missed Call is from an ex. I saw one on my phone Thursday night. What, did he change his mind, get interrupted or worse, mis-dial? Honestly, who cares. I didn't call him back. The way I see it, if someone wants to get in touch they will. Still, I know plenty of women who will call their ex back. It's another way of saying, "Hi, it's me. I saw that you called and even though we're broken up and you didn't leave a message I'm calling you back because I'm (secretly) interpreting your missed call as you must still care and well, I still care and if you want to call me back, I'm here ... call me!" Why do women use every little crumb as their excuse to get back in touch with someone who was probably difficult to get over? Of course I know WHY but it's like a crack addict looking for a fix. Once the temporary high comes down, all you're left with is depression. A missed call from an ex is a missed call from an ex. Nothing to read in to. If a man has something to say, he will.

A Carrie Bradshaw moment

2008-07-26T23:15:00.002-07:00

By the way, best part of my Dads wedding was during their vows, I looked down and noticed I was wearing two different shoes!

Now, more than ever

2008-07-25T21:18:00.002-07:00

I promised my friend Steve Shull, a brilliant real estate coach, that I would post something anything tonight, so here I am. Again. Hello! Where've I been? (Not that anyone's wondering) but honestly, I've been finding myself. I know, it sounds so trite but I'm for real. The past year has been life altering. Through brave honesty, I've been growing up and somehow managed to find my voice. When I first quit my job in real estate I was fired up and thought things would just magically happen according to my plan. Ha. Yes, many good things have happened. Professionally, I created a TV show that's been in and out of production twice, got the best broadcasting agent in town (no small feat I might add), interviewed at ABC's The View, been to two different networks for two new talk shows as a lead host, and (hold your breath) actually booked work as a host. Personally, I've dated, had my heart broken, felt the depth of despair, learned a lot about who I am, definitely and measureably grown, traveled many places, had lots of time off, found an amazing spiritual teacher, slept long hours, donated time to a worthy charity, been blessed by an awesome social network and STILL believe in dreams.

So, why blog? I'm passionate about women - especially my friends. I'm convinced that women of the 21st Century (single, dating and married) need a relatable touchstone other than Oprah (no offense, I love her). My wish is for women (me included) to truly be inspired to be who they say they are while secretly waiting to be rescued (by a man, job or size), or worse, before the Oxytocin hits! I'm not a life coach or a relationship expert. I'm just a woman who's worked really hard to (almost always) like myself as I am. And, seriously - who can we turn to these days to get it straight? I'm talking from an honest (not Dr. Phil's "latest") kinda girl who will speak the truth about what it's like to actually be one of us. We are a generation of Sex and the City meets Oprah. We're smarter and sexier than ever and earned the right to have what we want. So why aren't we? Why are we still operating out of a "strategy" that will never work because it's inauthentic? I'm talking about a deep "if I do this, I'll get their approval" method that no longer serves us. We're not getting it because despite all the dating and self help books we've memorized, we aren't owning the message. It's Theory vs. Application. My teacher says, "Wisdom is knowledge experienced." And since I'm fresh out of a "Hi, I have boundaries.com - click on!" 12 month bootcamp (thank you Mary), I figure why not use MY voice and share some insight. Ladies, you're beautiful ... so magical ... but it's time to stop sugar coating the truth. We've got to put our big girl boots on and get real. Now, more than ever.

Much more soon, xo

Guts

2007-10-25T09:55:00.002-07:00

Love how the negative nay-sayers in life never have the guts to say who they are. If you're got something to say, then get some balls.

Gratitude

2007-07-09T20:57:00.002-07:00

I always thought "Grow Rich in Gratitude" would be a great book title. Not rich in a material sense. More like the highest level of fulfillment. Gratitude is the elixir in life. About six years ago, Oprah had best selling author Sarah Ban Breathnach on her show. The author wrote a book called, "Simple Abundance" which asked readers to journal basic things they were grateful for every day. When Oprah claimed that journaling gratitude had changed her life and made it better, I took note and bought the book. A dozen journals later, I can honestly say that the simple act of writing out what I'm grateful for changed my life as well.

An attitude of gratitude is transforming. Most people wait to be happy. What are they waiting for? There will never be a better more perfect time than now. The magic of life is to be appreciative NOW. A happy grateful person is inspiring. And uplifting. Who doesn't want that or to be around that? The art of gratitude doesn't always come naturally and may require practice, but it's definitely worth seeking.

Allow

2007-06-15T13:48:00.002-07:00

What a week. Two nights ago, I celebrated my birthday with friends. Bringing everyone together and watching them have a wonderful time was the greatest gift. The evening was topped off by a midnight dance to my favorite song, "The way you look tonight." This was the loveliest birthday I can remember.

I also had a great meeting for The Enlightened Studio. We are in the final stage of development and (fingers crossed) will be in production in the next couple of weeks. Times are good and I’m a happy woman.

Speaking of being a woman, I recently began studying a relationship curriculum called, Making Sense of Men (www.understandmen.com). The founder, Alison Armstrong, says the quintessential quality in true partnership is “Receptivity.” I started thinking about me and all my female friends. We tend to be on the independent side so it's probably no surprise that most of us have been single for quite some time. Not that we haven't dated, we've just been a bit unimpressed. No worries though. We've all shared the same mantra: we would wait it out until (or if) the “right” someone should come along, and in the interim, rather die than sell out. Well, as fate would have it, one by one, each of my lovely friends are finding love. True love. As I look back on watching them be swept off their feet, they shared the same thing in common. First they believed it was possible but no attachment to “when.” Second, and most importantly, they ALLOWED their special man to cross the formerly reserved space in their hearts with total access. Now, they love one day at a time, fully aware of the delicate splendor of clicking with their mate and grateful they never stopped believing. Love's divine.

It seems to me that matters of the heart (whether it be a relationship or the career of our dreams) is no different in how we should approach. We have to be open to the possibility that we CAN have our deepest desires. We must BE what we hope to receive and then ALLOW the Universe to deliver. Remember, the Universe only knows one word, YES. Most people know about the fundamental law of the Universe, the law of attraction. What many don't know is that there is another, equally powerful law, the law of allowing. If we don't allow IN what we've been asking (and let’s face it, probably begging for), then the Universe has no access, thus our dreams bypass us.

Ask for what you want. Then allow to be given to...

Integrity

2007-05-21T17:32:00.002-07:00

My favorite word is YES. Ha, big surprise. My next favorite is integrity. I think it's a sexy word. Of course people who actually have integrity are the sexiest. But when I looked it up, Webster's didn't mention the sexy part. Webster's defines integrity as:

1. adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty. 2. the state of being whole, entire, or undiminished: to preserve the integrity of the empire. 3. a sound, unimpaired, or perfect condition.

Integrity isn't a quality to be applied when convenient or some of the time. We either have integrity or we don't. Ironically, most people are OUT of integrity when they say they have it. To truly embody integrity, our lives have to be clean in every aspect, all the time. Selling out on our dreams is being out of integrity but that's nothing compared to not following through on what we say we'll do but don't. If you have to break your word (it happens), be accountable and get straight about it. People will remember. I once read a book titled, "How you do anything is how you do everything." That may seem a bit fierce but at the end of the day (and it's YOUR day), having integrity makes life easy.

Be your word. You'll be so sexy.

What others think of you is none of your business

2007-05-07T20:12:00.002-07:00

Great title. But, I can't take credit. It's actually a title to an excellent book I read a few years ago. "What others think of you is none of your business" taught me a vital lesson in life that, looking back, gave me the courage to do what I'm doing now. I remember the moment I "got it."

I was in a spin class where my favorite instructor was playing some of my all time favorite music. My mood was great, energy off the charts and the music was loud, just the way I like it. I felt so good I wanted to sing! Literally sing along (out loud) to the songs she was playing. But, I looked around the room and got scared. Everyone was so serious about their workout, not one smile. What would they think? No, I can't sing, they'll think I'm nuts. It's funny, you know when you're WITH someone that it seems more okay to be yourself than you would when you're alone? Like, in a movie. Ever been to a movie (sans a friend) and you want to laugh your head off at something funny but you don't, because you're alone, so you only a laugh a little? Totally cheating yourself, right? Okay, you get it.

So, there I was, in a spin class, working hard, sweat dripping, heart racing, feeling fantastic and wanting to sing but frozen because I was too afraid of what the others might think? Crazy! And, enough. I closed my eyes tight, squinched up my face and silently thought, "What others think of me is none of my business. Again. What others think of me is none of my business," and low and behold, I began to sing. Me! It felt so good! It took so much courage not to open my eyes to see who was looking at me but I didn't. I just kept singing. I can't even remember which song was playing, probably Mary J. Blige's "No More Drama," lol, but that's not the point. What matters is that I fully expressed myself and gave up on what others may or may not be thinking.

That moment changed my life. I became more confident, more comfortable, more myself. The only way we can ever Quit to Win is by being TRUE. And, the only way we can do that is by letting go of what others might think if we dare to.

Flow

2007-04-30T20:39:00.002-07:00

"Energy flows where attention goes." We've all heard that by now, right? Yes, but are we actually applying the principle? It doesn't matter what we're thinking about, health, career, relationships - we get exactly what we think about. Don't worry, I'm not about to blog about the Law of Attraction, as the film, The Secret, has clearly been a grand enough platform for that. No, I'm more interested in contemplating what it actually means and to consider the possibility that it's true.

Recently, I was on a blind date. A rather good blind date I might add. He was smart, handsome, funny and totally "got" it. Things were going quite well until I mentioned how sad I felt that I'd lost touch with a close friend because she recently fell in love. That's when he said, "Don't worry, she'll be back. Give her six months and she'll be miserable." Wow. I was blown away. Now, I know he meant well but I can't help remembering what the poet Maya Angelou said, "People always tell you who they are, if you just pay attention." My question isn't whether or not my blind date was right or wrong to say that. My question is that I'm wondering if this is what it's come down to for so many?

Are we so deeply cynical that we actually think it's normal? Not me. I am the antithesis of cynical. I'm highly optimistic and, as it turns out, incredibly romantic. I believe anything is possible when intentions are straight. I believe in love. In fact, I believe in the soul mate kind of love. And I believe we can, be, do and have anything we dare to imagine. My life is proof, as miracles are happening everywhere. Simply because I am in the flow. I'm "allowing" and getting out of the way. The Universe is a servant to our thoughts and will deliver exactly as we say. Life is hard. Universe says, "Yes!" Life is easy. Universe says, "Yes!" It's our choice, no, our DUTY to be conscious of our thoughts, beliefs and attention. Our life depends on it.

Dark Knight

2007-04-23T19:52:00.002-07:00

Last night was The Apprentice finale. The show was filmed at The Hollywood Bowl, which is an outside venue. A few minutes before Trump fired James and hired Stefani, it rained on all our friends and family. How fitting.

By now, anyone who watched the show knows that I quit in the boardroom. From the moment I entered the "bubble," I knew I shouldn't have been there. What most people don't know though, is that I asked, in fact, begged one of the producers to let me go home long before. After the second task, I pleaded for a meeting with Trump so I could resign. The producer told me to get some sleep and promised it would be better in the morning. He meant well but he was wrong. I did go to bed (albeit, on a cot in a tent in a freezing backyard), but I never slept. I got into my sleeping bag, covered my head and cried.

There's a phrase called, "The dark night of the soul." It's a time of radical transformation and sometimes it hurts so badly, you want to die. But, it can also be a time of amazing insight and revelation. For months following The Apprentice, I was in a "dark night of the soul." During that time, I gave up on ever having a fulfilling life. I was depressed.

Being on The Apprentice was the worst experience of my life, and the best thing I could've ever done. See, once I made it through my dark night, I found the courage to change. I took inventory of my life and decided to quit anything that no longer served me. I quit a big career, unhealthy friendships and bad habits. I was terrified. But continuing on as before was no longer an option, thereby making The Apprentice a "Dark Knight," which became the catalyst for change. Thank you.

On my desk there's a picture of a gorgeous rose with a poem by Anais Nin that says, "And then the day came, when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to bloom."

Take out the trash

2007-04-17T18:00:00.002-07:00

I just came out of a silent meditation retreat in Palos Verdes and my mind is renewed. I'm empty, and for me, that's freedom. See, the last time I tried this retreat (a few years ago), I found it to be a stressful experience. I couldn't get present the entire three days and by the end, I actually thought I failed. Seriously! Meditating didn't always come easy for me. In fact, I remember having thoughts that something must've been wrong with me because I couldn't seem to let go. Worse than that, was I actually believed what I thought.

Thankfully, things have changed. As of January 1st of this year, I committed to a new and deliberate way of being. My intention was to live a lifestyle of peace while achieving my dreams. I decided to quit anything and everything that no longer served my best and highest good (many details in upcoming posts as well as some exciting results due to my commitment to this intention). But looking back, the change didn’t start there. Before we can take on even the noblest intention, we have to begin in another place. We must first take inventory of our thoughts.

If you haven't seen, "Peaceful Warrior," please see pronto. The film is based on the best selling book, "Way of the Peaceful Warrior," which I've always LOVED. In fact, over the years, I have given many copies to friends. Needless to say, I was nervous to see the film because I worried the story wouldn't translate. But it did! They delivered a magical inspiring movie almost better than the book. Nick Nolte plays the role of Socrates who trains Dan Millman, a college student dreaming of being an Olympian gymnast, how to be present. This is one of life's most challenging tasks because we are either in the past or projecting the future based on our thoughts. In the film, Socrates teaches Dan many lessons but there was one thing he said that was unforgettable. He said, "Take out the trash."

The trash is our mental garbage. You know, those thoughts of fear, doubt, worry, lack and limitation. These thoughts hold us back and keep us small, and are usually not true. Emerson said, "Don't always believe what you think." When we take the time to go within (meditate) and learn to become mindful of our garbage (observe the rampage), we can then begin the process of letting it go. In order to Quit to Win, the first thing we must learn to do is, take out the trash.

Decisions

2007-04-09T20:44:00.002-07:00

I was talking with my dear friend Jacqui about a blog I sent out a couple months ago called, Quit to Win. I wrote about how I quit my big time real estate career to follow my dreams (which somehow managed to inspire hundreds of people and the reason I know this for sure is because they wrote back to me and told me so), and she insisted I write a book. "But, on what?" I asked. "How you quit to win" she replied, and went on to say, "It'll be great, just write out seven or eight steps on 'how' you did what you did and people will be inspired by your story!" Easy enough, I decided I would.

Have you ever written a book? Wait, let me back up. Have you ever thought about a writing a book but that's about as far as you got? Yeah, not so easy. Especially if you claim yourself as the "expert" in an area you feel quite confident you could use a lot of help. And, steps? Yikes. But, I tried, I did. I thought and thought about what those "steps" were (or could be) and even though it had only been a few short days, I knew I was in big trouble because I was absolutely clueless.

Bless you sweet Jacqui, but who am I to tell people what to do, step by step, and voila! - promise they'll have a better life? If only. Each person is so unique and so different, how could one way (my way) work for everyone? Sooo, long blog longer, I decided not to write the steps but that I would indeed, write the book. Quit to Win will be a book of my own personal insight and revelation that make up who I am, what I'm doing and where I'm going. I figure the "how" will work itself out.