15 Things I Have Learned about the Impossible

I walked to the starting line in semi darkness along with thousands of other runners, pouring into the streets of Philadelphia from their hotels. It was 6:00 am, Sunday November 20, 2011.  I had run hundreds of miles in preparation for that day.  I ran in rain, I ran in heat waves, I ran with friends and I ran alone.  I had learned a lot about my body and its limits, both the real and the self-imposed and during my training period, I had learned the difference between the two.   I was not in ideal shape for this run.  … Continue reading

Rock My Root Chakra

“Call me. It’s important,” she specified in her voice mail. R. hated to talk on the phone, so I knew it had to be important. When she picked up on the first ring, I got scared, as R. didn’t race to the phone for anyone, not her husband, her friends, or even her clients. R.’s phone aversion mirrored my aversion to processed foods.  If I were starving on an island and had no choice but to eat dinner rolls from Perkins to stay alive, I would relent.  If R. were stranded on an island and needed to make a phone … Continue reading

Cheer Mom Part 3: Game Day

As I walked into Sun National Arena in Trenton,  New Jersey for my daughter’s cheer competition, I was keenly aware that one of us would leave that night crying.  Either they’d lose, and she would be devastated, or they’d win, and I’d be devastated.  Don’t get me wrong, I want what we all want for our children.  But if you’ve read parts one and two of my Cheer Mom trilogy, then you understand the struggles I’ve encountered with my cheerleader daughter.  Advancing is what the girls want and what their coaches want and what I’m supposed to want. Yet, the … Continue reading

Cheer Mom Part 2: Cheer Angst

I wasn’t in the mood to go to a wiglet party. Furthermore, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with Miss F.’s mood after that cumbersome looking hair piece was sewn into her hair, which she would then need to sleep with and live in until her cheer competition, some 18 hours later.  Miss F. is the kid who goes on sensory overload from a stray dog hair caught in her shoe.  Asking her to sleep with an artificial hair piece that has been woven into her hair is like asking a child who has sandbags tied to her legs … Continue reading

Life of the Party

Imagine drones of drunken co-ed girls in wet T-shirt contests, all night partying, beer, clubbing, more beer, dancing until dawn, impulsive, booze fueled hook ups, and more beer.  All the stuff that happens in Cancun. When I was in my early 20’s, I went on an “all-expenses paid” trip to Cancun, thanks to the travel agent grandmother of a friend of mine. Where I walked into one club for a total of two hours. Where I was in bed most night by 10:00. Where I drank not one beer. Where I went back to my own room every night – … Continue reading


The Dude would go off for hours, to the field, the butterfly bush, the playground, or underneath a chaise lounge in a fortress built with towels. Most of the time he was with Jack, the Dude’s best friend, a surrogate brother, with whom he spends his summers at the town pool. Jack is a good boy, a really good boy, with an even keeled disposition that tempers my son’s occasional moods. They have the same imagination, which allows them to play with Legos or boats or collect leaves or rocks or catch butterflies for entire afternoons. I call the Dude … Continue reading

Six Months of Fierce

I begin with a confession.  I’m not really all that “fierce.” I am the woman behind the curtain, a diminutive woman, at that, who from time to time, speaks loud enough into the blogosphere to capture your attention. My beliefs are fierce.  My attitude is fierce.  But that bad-ass, ninja, anarchist?  She’s a projection on a wall.   Sorry, guys, but if you need someone powerful enough to transport you back to Kansas from some far away land, you are going to have to seek help from someone else. I fumble constantly.  With the confidence in my own abilities, with my … Continue reading

What My Swami Said

I found them to be a terrible distraction.  Not the kids fighting in the next room, or neighbors playing loud music, or thoughts of war or poverty or neglected dogs.  It was my bangs.  My new, shorter, side swept bangs weren’t sitting properly across my forehead.  I brushed them, I tried a different part, a flat iron, but nothing worked.  Enough, I thought to myself.  It’s time for the mind to move onto something else. There are worse things than a bad hair day, even if this was the day that I would be meeting Swami Shantimurti  Saraswati of Ahsram … Continue reading

Ten Reasons Why Being A Yoga Teacher Rocks

Ah, the midlife crisis.  That moment in time that when certain people approach the age of forty, with as much grace as a rhinoceros trying to walk a tightrope.  Some leave their marriages, while others go out and buy a Maserati, while others take on the task of making over their bodies or redesigning their homes.  As for me, I ran off for six months and studied yoga. I use the term “ran off” loosely.   I still lived in my house, but for the amount of energy and time away from my family that it took to get through those … Continue reading

The First Rule of Fight Club

  Contrary to myth, we don’t meet in abandoned buildings.  We don’t punch each other around until our faces are bloody, and I don’t make soap for a living.  However, I do run a weekly fight club.  A yoga fight club, to be specific.  When the owner of my yoga studio asked if I was interested in teaching Yoga Fight Club, my knee jerk reactions, was, “No!  I can’t do that!” Yet, I know myself well enough to realize that when I resist something so impulsively, it usually means that it’s something I need to embrace.  To be honest, I … Continue reading