Sunday, April 12, 2015


I got citizenship. I got a passport: "two black books" as adi says. I left Sydney feeling like I was moving... again. it still feels like home. I have the loyalty card for every coffee and frozen yoghurt shop, I have the lingo down, I have the peeps to call in any mild emergency: I have my own international family there.

but, yes, nyc feels a little like home too.

I feel guilty every time I think that; like I'm betraying my life in sydney.

in some ways I feel like I belong nowhere. (Air Force brat!) but I also feel like yeah, maybe I belong both places. maybe I belong everywhere.

I had a few different friends tell me things like that. mr I'm-a-citizen-of-the-world matt was my favorite: we are "like fucking James Bond!" laurel: "We are now officially more cool than allllll of our friends!" yeah. ok. dual citizenship is pretty fucking awesome. but. how do you actually live in two countries, in two hemispheres, in two datelines?

that's a real question. help me, because that's what I plan on doing. I fully believe in this: I covered a yoga class while I happened to be in Sydney, I ran into a friend on the street I hadn't seen in months, I picked up a ring that I had left for repairs, I was asked by a bakery lady how has it been that she hasn't seen me recently... I still belong there. and I want to continue to belong there.

so f u convention. (yeah, you totes never expected that from me, huh?!) but seriously. I'm doing this. see you in three months Sydney. I love you.

jo. lydia. bal. chuck. hal et al. matt (yeah I consider you Sydney). same, anthony. hayden. mandy. kel. david. sydney. rob. sam. norm, nut, sally (all the hashers). shel. lisa. julie. rachel. bron. mish. samantha. rachel and jeremy. adam. superman. james. chris. even owen. all the boys. all the friends. all the yoga students.


just so you know: you're all there. and I'm there. and I'll be back. xo

Friday, March 13, 2015


impatient. there's no other word for it. I can clearly differentiate between how I normally feel and how I feel right now. everything seems to take longer than it should. that six minutes til the local-stops train arrives on my way to my friend's house tonight? seems like at least 24 minutes. that additional four weeks til my blackmilk and Roxie's legs arrive from Australia? seems like two years.

I want to feel settled. hell. I want to BE settled. but I have this nagging sense that the feeling of settledness comes with a bed. you know. that bed that's still on the boat.

and so I wait. and wait. but not quite as patiently as I'm used to. talking with a friend as I leave yoga: "look, I don't know. just decide already!" him: "you're just... leaving yoga?" yeah. that's me as I'm leaving my happy place. can you imagine how I am as I walk into class?

luckily for my friends, it's mostly in my head. unluckily for me, it's mostly in my head. in yoga class yesterday, I taught about being present in a transition phase, rather than continually waiting for what was next. I taught that theme because I have been hearing over and over "I can't wait til spring is ACTUALLY here!" (btw, me too.) but this continual forward focus distracts from the now. ...and only today did I realize that I was really trying to teach that theme to myself.

so we are in seasonal transition. and I'm definitely in transition. but we are all in transition.



*more patience

Tuesday, March 10, 2015


"if you've ever experienced
the mountains in the springtime:
snow is melting into rivulets
of crystal clear water
trickling from underneath
and coarsing ever downward
into widening streams
birds singing; the air sweet and clean
new buds and greenery sprouting forth
everything fresh and new
... that's spring"

legend goes that when they were naming me, my dad uttered those words. my mom scribbled them down, wanting to cement the reasoning behind my name. she then wrote it in calligraphy, and it has been hanging in my room ever since.

i get a lot of jokes about my name. ESPECIALLY this time of year. ESPECIALLY as new yorkers are getting sick and tired of snow. each person i meet says "oh, can you do something about this weather?" or "you're bringing the warm weather with you, right?"

but it's ok: i secretly like it. i roll my eyes playfully and tell them that i'll do what i can. or i joke back, saying "you know, i've NEVER had ANYone tell me that before!" ...which usually gets a blushed chuckle.

but the truth of why i like my name is because of what is written above. the word "spring" has many meanings. but the connotation of the seasonal change is the one that resonates with me and has guided my life in so many ways.

everyone has to live up to their name in one way or another. me, i feel a little pressure to be bouncy. a little urge to keep the smile on my face. a bit of desire to make everyone's life a little brighter. but honestly... that's something i can deal with. i want to live my life with responsibility like that.

almost every yoga class i've been to in the past week has talked about germination; sprouting; blossoming... all of the metaphors you could think of for spring. and every single one seems to speak directly to me. (just like when the person on the corner goes "ohmigoodness i think spring is coming!" and i turn my head to respond, but then realize they might NOT be speaking to me.)

germinating it totally me right now: figuring out how to blossom in this new place.

but even more, it's my sister. my beautiful baby sister is about to have her first baby blossom. and she has been germinating with all her strength and beauty for the past nine months. i'm so proud of her. so excited for her. so excited for us.

and this blog is dedicated to her, and to her and andy's choice for their baby's name. shayna: your baby will grow into his name. he will find the meaning he wants behind it. he will blossom into it and learn to joke back with whatever anyone says to him. he will find his strength and beauty in it. i promise.

we all germinate.
we all blossom when we are ready to.
learning to be in the germination phase is sometimes hard,
but we always know that spring is coming.

Monday, February 16, 2015

pink noise

pink noise. go ahead. listen.

I learned about pink noise this weekend when visiting the new museum in NYC. of course I was attracted to the concept (ahem, my hair), but for some reason I also felt comforted by the actual phrase "pink noise."

other phrases that made it into my notes this weekend?

"my realities never quite lined up."

"add more volume to your life."

"he was attracted to limitlessness." and

"my capacity has returned."

hmmm. what was my subconscious trying to tell me as it placed these phrases into my life? well, it was lovey love weekend, so take what you want from that... but, I think these signify the confirmation of my re-set. and, perhaps more than that, confirmation that I [we] can re-set.

we can re-set after a job change; after a move; after a break-up; after an epiphany. sometimes it takes a while; sometimes it's hard; sometimes we have to wait until we're ready; sometimes it takes a universal kick in the butt.

regardless of circumstance, that underlying possibility and potential for love (self, platonic, romantic) is nothing less than amazing.

I have already experienced heaps of changes this year (note that aussie-ness!), and I know there are many more still in store. re-set: listening for the next message.

even if it sounds a bit like pink noise at first.

Sunday, February 1, 2015

forget what you think you need

"forget what you think you need" was advice from gabby's "crazy sexy miracles" talk last night. when she said it, i really heard it. because i realized that the night before, that's exactly what had needed to happen: i got an email from my husband saying that he filed for divorce, and i freaked out.

i. was. hysterical.

i spent the evening talking to a bunch of friends about how i was feeling and why. but i was still feeling weird about it the next day. until i heard gabby say "forget what you think you need."

i thought i needed to be in control of this situation: i thought i was going to file; i thought i was taking care of things; i thought i was going to be the adult here. when i got that email, a little piece of my reality changed.

what i thought i needed was to take care of this situation myself.
but i realized this was actually another little miracle.
sometimes blessings can be hard to receive.

this whole move has been an exercise in acceptance; in letting go of control; of forgiving myself and my friends for stepping on each other's toes (matt, anthony: i love you both and greatly respect your ability to forgive!). and that last one relates straight back to forgetting what you think you need.

gabby on forgiveness: 1) lose your shit and allow yourself to be in it; 2) choose to forgive, to see the situation differently; 3) let it gently lift as it is ready; and 4) what you need will be given to you when you are ready.

but only when you forget what you think you need can you be open to receiving what you REALLY need.

i need this divorce. and here it is, on its way.

so now i'm just working on trusting ALL of the seeds that i've been busy planting. we make all these little steps and decisions each day. they are steps toward where we are now. and where we are now is on our way to that next place--that next miracle. and we have to trust ourselves. and trust in the next miracle that's just around the corner.

anthony lost his wallet just before coming to meet me for the miracles talk. we spent a while on the phone searching the apartment with no luck. eventually anthony thought to check his work voicemail (since he had one of his business cards in his wallet). and--miracle--someone had found his wallet, handed it in to the local post office, and they had notified him that they had it. *miracle*

this morning i went to elena's yoga class. elena is my favorite of all yoga teachers, and my life coach. i'm used to stalking her internationally to make it to her yoga classes, or doing them online. i'm used to skyping with her in the wee hours of the morning sydney time. but today, i got to just walk in to her yoga class--because now i live in new york. while flowing during class, elena instructed us to dive forward, taking our arms through prayer position.

all of the sudden i remembered a line from one of her online yogaglo classes: "you can swan dive or take your arms through prayer; i usually take my arms through prayer--i'm a new yorker and i'm used to PACKED yoga rooms!" and, right there in the middle of her real-live yoga class, i started crying. i looked around the packed room and realized that was me now. i was a new yorker. *miracle*

so yeah, there are miracles all around us all the time. i'm living one. sometimes i just need to forget what i think i need in order to realize it.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

committing. #sydneytoNYC

i haven't been getting excited. i've been freaking out. and mish got super pissed at me on my last full day in sydney because of that. she said SPRING! SHUT UP ABOUT YOUR STUPID APARTMENT! WHO CARES? YOU'RE GOING TO NEW YORK!!!

and i tried to get excited. i really did. but i had so much anxiety about the move (which i felt, in my stomach, every single day) that it was hard.

i was in a yoga class mid-move: those few days in LA between sydney and NYC were much needed down time. the teacher told us about how her six-year-old did the splits on the escalator that day. her advice to her daughter: "you have to commit; you can't be in two places at once!"

and that's when i realized what i needed to do: commit to NYC. sure. i did all the things. allll the things to get myself moved. but i didn't actually commit to NYC. so, right there in the yoga class, i decided to do it. i told NYC: i'm yours. totally yours. i breathed through each pose and smiled from the inside out. i repeated in my head over and over: "i commit to NYC."

by the end of the class i felt strong. happy. centered. ready.

there's a real lesson there: as soon as i committed, the anxiety disappeared. i filled my heart with love and it squashed the fear. it edged it right out.

and i'm going. RIGHT NOW. i'm in the air mid-way from LA to NYC: the last part of the move. i'm not even scared.

the only way i could have gotten to this place was through those friends that went so beyond the call of duty that i can't even begin to think of how i can thank them.

(hayden: thank you for helping with the boxes and computer. bal and chuck: thank you for stealing my stuff. matt: thank you for alllll the shit. and to all my besties who have supported me through millions of texts, chats, and company: thank you.)

so what's next? well, i run into anthony's arms at JFK. and then? who knows. anything can happen.

anything happens all the time.

i'm a New Yorker.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014


saturday morning i went to a yoga class at the yoga loft in newcastle. the teacher taught a theme of impermanence. i thought "why is this resonating SO FREAKING MUCH?!" hmmm.

organising this move has been hard: each step forward takes quite a bit of emotional effort. i've struggled with a lot of it: questioning my choices about what to take, worrying about the amount of items and furniture going; anxiety over choosing the best moving company, not understanding what services are included; trying to figure out where all the funds come from for all the shipping and airline tickets; et cetera and et cetera.

last week i realised this stuff was so hard because i was operating from this baseline level of self-doubt: i wasn't thinking that i could actually manage this transition. meanwhile, "moving" keeps autocorrecting to "loving" and "movers" to "lovers" in my texts. i think these were messages from the universe: i had to shake some of this doubt so that i could start really accomplishing some of the items on the list.

so i went to see patty to cleanse some of this out of my system. she helped me realise that: 1) yeah, i like my stuff, and that's ok. i'm not a bad person because i'm moving more shoes than imelda marcos ever owned. 2) i need to do what's right for me at each stage of this move. i don't need to answer to someone else's idea of how i should finance things before i receive reimbursements. 3) if i shift some of this doubt, i can start to actually get excited about this.

i had started a lot of the moving checklist items, but after this session with patty last week, i knocked some of these items out for real. i told anthony exactly how long i'd be staying with him (ahem). i packed up my office (with help from louise and hayden), got people to come pick up the items (thanks hayden!), and cleared out personal items. i called the movers that had given me quotes, got re-quotes, got more evidence, and finally scheduled a mover. i found and scheduled someone to pick up remaining items and donate them to an aboriginal help centre. i organised which day i'm actually flying out.

i thought: i'm doing well; i'm really going to move. i'm getting excited! ...and then the endings began.

--i had my last day in the office. (richard gave me flowers, we did speeches, i cried, hayden and mandy made me pose for photos, mandy states "it's the end of an era!")

--i had my last art therapy session with the woman i've been seeing here for six years. (we review hundreds of artworks, i relive my entire life journey in sydney, i cry.)

--i taught my last yoga class--and specifically, at a place where i've had that same time slot since it opened three years ago. (my class comes even though class was officially cancelled for the holidays--unbeknownst to me--and we have a beautiful class. i see my students putting their all into the theme and their practice. i see every student get into crow, even the student who asked for it because she was certain she could never do it. i cry. i promise to come back.)

woah, guys. this is all big stuff. *impermanence-slap-in-the-face*

impermanence. oh. yeah. that's my life right now. of course that theme would fucking resonate with me. i don't know where i'm going to be living soon, i won't have a routine, i won't know many people... and right now it's much the same: i'm living in the state of limbo--not knowing exactly what i'm doing for the next few weeks as i try to see all of my closest friends here those last few times.

chuck and bal keep saying "this is the last time we'll walk down this road on a saturday morning," or "this is the last time we will eat at this restaurant on a thursday evening," which are most likely true statements. but i BEG them to stop it each time they make those declarations. *impermanence-slap-in-the-face*

what's funny is that everything is impermanent. we just don't always see it. but when i looked back through the art i had created over the past several years in art therapy, i could physically see it: i saw myself move through numerous relationships and stages of friendships; i saw worries and stresses appear and disappear; i saw a marriage dissolve; i saw new opportunities emerge. it was all there in black and white. and color. and 2D and 3D.

everything is impermanent. and it is just as beautiful as those artworks.

if we allow it to be.

so, as i fill out the forms to organise the movers, and i look around at this apartment roxie and i have made a home, i feel a little sad.

but knowing that this sadness won't stay, and that there is so much excitement to come, helps me be a little more present in this space of impermanence i'm occupying right now.

because, after all, it's really where we all live.