Put Yourself Into Intensive Care

I love my picnic breakfasts, with my oatmeal, decaf, books and notebooks in my jungly backyard.

If you are wounded, you need extreme self-care. If you are hurting, you need radical self love. We are all wounded. We are all hurting. If you are in crisis, this is not hot news. If you are not in crisis, you probably still most likely have dark times, moments, relationships, pockets in your soul. Frustrations, disappointments—they’re always there. It’s the human condition. “Be kind to everyone you meet,” said the philosopher Maimonides, “for he is fighting a great battle.”

Extreme self-care. Radical self-love. If there’s anything I know to be true, these principles say it. I’m not talking about greed, or escapism, or profound self-indulgence. I’m not talking about hurting others to help myself.

I am ever more dedicated to what my friend Betty calls, “putting myself into intensive care.”

Grace is a gift that must be claimed. What if my friends and family gave me a birthday party and I didn’t show up? Silly me! My gift to myself—and to the people in my life—is attention to health, soul and sanity. If I am not centered and clear inside myself, in my soul and spirit, what I give to the world is suspect. This I know. I do not what to put out a polluted product. I can’t let my little light shine if I don’t feed its fire, can I?

I’m finding at this time in my life I show up to the party by giving myself abundant time to connect with my inner higher self: In the mornings, prayer, meditation, reading inspiring literature, scribbling in my journal and reflection. During the day, brief moments to stop and breathe, conscious effort to mindfulness, music, movement in the form of walking, cycling or Qigong. But even when I had three little kids and a full time job in NYC, I grabbed what moments I could. On the train. In the bathroom! With the kids—I’d put on some rhythmic music and we’d all dance our pants off.

All to cut through the suffering and embrace life on life’s terms and be well-equipped to live an abundant, generous life.

Intensive care. That’s the ticket! Are you ready to ride?

Where’s My Money???

This handy, dandy art work is the result of my million years of living, working and trying to understand how money gets made ethically, number one, and how to get behind what I know and love to do in and for the world, number two.

Whew! With thanks to my business coach, Melody Stevens I have come to believe that the best place to work from is in the spot where heart meets market. And that, said Ms. Mel as we both roared with laughter right there in the Manalapan, NJ Starbucks, is reality!

I don’t have to sell out. I have to buy in…to my own work, my own calling, my own strengths, my own abilities.

Okay! As my friend Traci Bild  would say, “I am my own lottery ticket!”

Meaning, my life is my own, as I choose to make it. With the help of my higher power, always and forever, one day at a time.

Any questions?