Archive for the ‘stirrings’ Category



(Find out more about “Being Elmo” here.)


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Below is only some of the most incredible authentic homemade Italian ravioli EVER.  We *finally* recently discovered a family ran Italian deli in our neighborhood (Sorriso’s Pork Store).  Drool away boys and girls.  Drool away.


INTENSE dense sauces to go with mind-blowing raviolis above.



Yep, it was as good as it looks.


Speaking of supper, “The Last Supper” booth at San Loco Mexican restaurant in Brookyn


Spring arrived early in NYC this year.



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So much beautiful *unbelievable* synchronicity, generosity, and expansion is happening in my life right now.  I am inspired by my mentors, so very blessed by the love from connections both old and new, and am eternally grateful for this ground breaking time in my life of which I can barely keep up with, but your bet your sweet butt I am.  I hope to write more later this week when I get a bit of a breather.  Until then, here is a recent inspiration.

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“Try not to become a man of success. Rather become a man of value.”

–Albert Einstein

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( the following in quotes  is from my latest reading obsession, The War of Art by Steven Pressfield, unless otherwise noted)

“Genius is a Latin word; the Romans used it to denote an inner spirit, holy, and inviolable, which watches over us, guiding us to our calling.  A writer writes with his Genius;  an artist paints wither hers; everyone who creates operates from this sacramental center.  It’s our soul’s seat, the vessel that holds our being-in-potential, our star’s beacon and Polaris.”

(Elizabeth Gilbert‘s TED talk and her thoughts on the ancient Roman’s idea of “the Genius”)

“Every sun casts a shadow, and genius’s shadow is Resistance.”

“Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work.  It will perjure, fabricate, falsify; seduce, bully, cajole.  Resistance is protean.  It will assume any form, if that’s what it takes to deceive you.  It will reason with you like a lawyer or jam a nine-millimeter in your face like a stickup man.  Resistance has no conscience.  it will pledge anything to get a deal, then double-cross you as soon as your back is turned.  If you take Resistance at its word, you deserve everything you get.  Resistance is always lying and always full of shit.”

“Like a magnetized needle floating on a surface of oil, Resistance will unfailingly point to true North–meaning that calling or action it most wants to stop us from doing.

We can use this.  We can use it as a compass.  We can navigate Resistance, letting it guide us to that calling or action that we must follow before all others.

Rule of Thumb:  The more important a call or action is to our soul’s evolution, the more Resistance we will feel toward pursuing it.”

The enemy is a very good teacher.–The Dalai Lama

“Resistance has no strength of its own.  Ever ounce of juice it possesses comes from us.  We feed it with power by our fear of it.

Master that fear and we conquer Resistance.”

(feed your white dog.)

“The most pernicious aspect of procrastination is that it can become a habit.  We don’t just put off our lives today; we put them off till our death bed.

Never forget:  This very moment, we can change our lives.  There never was a moment, and never will be, when we are without the power to alter our destiny.  This second, we can turn the tables on Resistance.

This second, we can sit down and do our work.”

Boogie Chillen’ :

Well my mama she didn’t ‘low me, just to stay out all night long, oh Lord
Well my mama didn’t ‘low me, just to stay out all night long
I didn’t care what she didn’t ‘low, I would boogie-woogie anyhow

When I first came to town people, I was walkin’ down Hastings Street
Everybody was talkin’ about, the Henry Swing Club
I decided I drop in there that night
When I got there, I say, “Yes, people”
They was really havin’ a ball!
Yes, I know
Boogie Chillen’!

One night I was layin’ down,
I heard mama ‘n papa talkin’
I heard papa tell mama, let that boy boogie-woogie,
It’s in him, and it got to come out
And I felt so good,
Went on boogie’n just the same

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I awoke this morning with such gratitude for the “God is in the details” of my life.  Here are a few of those treasures I thought I would share.



~the incredible coziness felt by our new set of sheets…it’s amazing how much luxuriousness $29.99 can actually buy

~the aromatic deliciousness that filled my apartment last night as I cooked up some organic jasmine rice

~the ridiculous softness of Dylan the Cat’s fur, like a fresh born rabbit that you can’t get enough of, as if he intentionally made himself that way just so you will pet him more and more and more

~the adrenaline goodness that brings feeling refreshed and alive after just 20 minutes on the elliptical machine, our first encounter after several months apart

~the gorgeous experience of not just relief, but expansion that occurs during the traction portion of my physical therapy sessions

~the indescribable feeling that I cannot and will never be able to do justice when I reconnect in Jack’s embrace  upon his return home each night from work…that feeling in his arms and chest, his warmth, his scent, his kiss, the energy of our love for which there is no language

~the magical brief surprise snow storm, which was not enough to stick around yet  just perfectly enough to leave me covered in flurries and get the taste on my tongue as I walked in a fantasy land of white deliciousness on my way home from running errands

~the deep connection of Self that rattled awake inspiration of action, empathy of even the darkest of humanity, and passion of  Purpose as an audience participant of How I Learned to Drive

~enjoying a scrumptious gourmet brunch and good conversation with an old friend at a wood-filled, two-door tavern in my old neighborhood, aromatic smells filling the space and the (real) fireplace roaring in action, and that funny re-realization of time, how it moves cruelly forward at the speed of light and yet somehow simultaneously always stands perfectly still

~this day. this second. this moment.  being ALIVE.



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Because basically the acting studio where I take classes at (ESPA shout-out!) is basically the awesome-est of the awesome, Sunday I got to see Second Stage’s production of How I Learned to Drive (written by Paula Vogel and directed by Kate Whorisky) for FREE.  I left the theater feeling like I did after watching Blue Valentine, and if you have read any of my previous blog entries, you know what that means:



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