Instinct, Reflection and Remembrance 9/11

When the attacks on September 11th happened I was living in Cape Cod at the time.

Preparing for a move back to New York City in October. I was struggling for work, my relationship at the time was over and I was planning on starting a year long Teacher Training to become a yoga teacher.

I was teaching Yoga already but also several other modalities in order to make a living in that very challenging economy. I was something of a Richard Simmon’s with alot of enthusiasm and a lifetime of being “Physically Active” but very few credentials to train or teach. The Cape did not seem to mind my lack of experience and I managed to eek out some jobs teaching Tap Dance, yoga, Drama, Personal training, aerobic’s, you name it, I taught it!

On the morning of 9/11 I woke up at 5:30AM and taught a “Stretch and Strengthen” class to senior citizen’s at 7AM. I played song’s from “Rent” the Broadway musical and made them laugh while moving very simply and working with very light weights....they enjoyed my light-heartedness and that meant something to me.

I enjoyed their steadfastness, every morning without fail they were always there.

At the close of the class I always felt a strange uselessness in that it was 8AM and I had no other work to do. The whole day stretched before me, people were just getting up for work and I was done. So, as soon as the class was over I would run away into the woods and be alone....

I had a secreted pond way out in the woods on the border of Orleans and Brewster (two neighboring towns at the elbow point of The Cape).

I would leave my car parked on the road and hike to the pond, leave my stuff and spend the whole morning swimming and exploring the woods.

This is how I spent the day on September 11, 2001.

Alone in the woods, swimming, walking, meandering through the trails looking out for poison ivy, keeping watch for ferns and mushrooms, listening, smelling, looking in the way you can only do when you are by yourself in nature.

I had exhausted myself completely by the afternoon and I was lying on the tiny little scratch of beach belonging to the pond reading, when a very ancient man walked onto the beach (the only person I had seen all day since my octogenarian class at 7AM...welcome to the Cape folks!)

He greeted me and asked how my day was going. I of course was effusive with my response. “The temperature of the water is perfect! and such a gorgeous day! It’s day’s like this on the Cape that make me question my decision to move back to New York”.

We started talking about the city he told me his Granddaughter was there at Columbia University. I told him it was my native city but I had been coming to the cape all my life.

After a while he said “I guess you haven’t heard the news?”

“What news?” I asked.

The man was gentle, he was mellow, he was weathered and wrinkled by the sun.

He had a New England accent from the Catherine Hepburn era no Boston suburb stuff for him.

“Well, the Trade center is gone, millions of people have died.”

I remember my body language so clearly (I feel guilty about it).

I had been sitting there in my suit on my blanket with my book completely relaxed and it was as if a freezing cold chill descended upon us.

Shutting my book, covering up my body instantly I was certain this man was insane.

What do you do when an insane person is talking to you in the woods and no one knows you are there and you do not have a cell phone?

I am a New Yorker....you listen, you watch, you wait.

I did not feel threatened by him, I just felt certain he was crazy and I wanted to get the heck out of there.

All the stuff he had said about his duck hunting lodge and his wife started to spiral for me into a weird Alfred Hitchcock movie. I imagined her dead for many years and his lodge a cavern of flies and dust, ancient memories being kept alive by imagination and solitude.

I realized being alone isn’t always such a great asset. Sometimes our aloneness causes our demise. I wanted to return to society with such a vehemence! I just had to do it carefully so as not to offend “Crazy man”.

“What time is it?” I asked

“Around 3” he replied.

He probably thought I was crazy!

“Well, I really should get going then.” I said as I organized my things.

“Good Luck to you and your family” he said “I hope all your people are alright”

Yikes!

I hauled ass to my car as soon as I could get out of there. My heart pounding, the hair on my neck standing, the flesh on my arms burning.

Talking to myself the whole way....who’s crazy here?

“Oh, my god! I can’t believe it....why would anybody! Jesus what’s wrong with him?”

I was really unnerved and angry all of the sudden.

Who is he to come onto “My beach” and Fuck up my day?

By the time I got to my car I had settled down and was planning on writing it off as another bizarre Cape Cod story when....

After all these years I wish he WAS just a crazy man.

Instinct’s are funny that way. Looking back I struggle with how disconnected I was from everything that was happening. How could I have no idea? How could I swim and hike and be merry while my city was in turmoil, while the world was grieving and terrified?

All I wanted when I left New York was to get away from the place and all I wanted the moment I realized the truth of this tragic day was to return.

This is the nature of tragedy it shifts us, it changes our perspective, it sends us running in the opposite direction from which we thought we were heading.

I believe this is where I very pointedly changed my view on life. I valued being single, having my independence, living freely so to speak. My biggest fear was reflected back to me on this day and it had nothing to do with terrorism based on where I was at the time and how I chose to spend my day.

Sometimes our choice to be alone out of safety, passivity, courageousness can limit our heart's ability to navigate the twists and turns that lie ahead and cloud our judgement. After this day, I prefer to be in union and harmony with another.

To have a truthful mirror to call me back from my escapist surroundings and remind me when I am lost.

I went back with flowers and visited my so called "Crazy man". I met his wife and his Grandaughter who had managed to get out of the city. I told them my story and in the kindest way possible I shared with them my dissconnect and how I had no idea that their very sane Family Matriarch was speaking the truth to me on that day.

I love being alone and I cherish my time by myself in nature but I recognize that I am always seeking, searching, diving into the essence of another and this flame was lit on this day spent in solitude when I projected my worst fear onto another.

Detachment, aloneness, solitude, in good measure can be healthy but sometimes like anything in excess we go a bit beyond our spiritual connection to humanity and become mad like weeds, moss, or stone we grow and harden beyond the reach of any human touch past the point of our intention.

Yoga means Union and I seek to unify in every possible exploration of the word and I found that gift on this day.

So many prayers of blessings and love to those that lost their loved ones and those that never had loved ones and were lost.

I remember this day....

All In the Timing

What I really want to know is...Can an Island betray you?

Here I am, back on Cape Cod a place where I grew up. A place that has fostered all of my vision’s and inspiration’s for spirit and nature. The first place I ever taught yoga, did a back-dive, went clamming, worked on a scallop boat, acted professionally, and fell in love with the man who came from here...my “so-called soul-mate”.

I had a dream and we were here together and so much about this place became about “us”. We met on this Island and we shared so much of it together and yet it was his birthplace and he was the “Prom King” when we made our rounds. Everyone shared a fondness for him and wanted his attention. It bring’s to mind Lisa loeb’s song “Sandalwood”. The lyric’s that get me are “I’m trying to keep cool, but everyone like’s you.” This is how I always felt upon entering the Cape with him. Sure, I have my “peep’s” and people love me here...but there was no comparison to “Prom-King” stature. Don’t get me wrong I am not competitive in this way but I longed for his attention and his company and whenever we were here it was spliced ten-fold.

That said, a year and half after the relationship I return to this Island without this partnership. However, I carry the full weight of knowledge that he was here when he made his crucial voyage out of my port and chose to take his cruise ship into new territory.

Basically, he was on the cape when he made the decision to no longer be present in our relationship.....that’s really all you need to know and that’s really all I know to share with you, regarding his decision.

So, a year and a half later I return to this Island I consider my homeland, my touchstone, my spiritual birthplace and for the first time ever, I feel threatened.

There is a beautiful quote by Marianne Williamson, “You are what you defend against.” So who who knows which came first here the chicken or the egg. I am certain my defensiveness did not assist my Cape Cod return in any way, in fact I know this to be the first time ever I felt I was in unwelcome territory on Cape Cod.

The night I arrive, there is an electrical/lighting storm and the cottage I am in shakes and throbs and light’s up and dead tree limbs fall all over the roof of the house and wind shakes and throttles the small place. The tiny cottage light’s up and then quiver’s with the force of nature (normally very exciting!) This unnerves me oddly...I am a lover of nature and storms included but I feel attacked and unwelcome. My cottage suddenly has a very “Shining” unappeal and I cannot rest amidst this brutal storm. I toss and turn and fixate on axe murder’ers and houses caught in a blaze from lightening and I marinate in all of my poor decison’s made here on Cape Cod.

Great night for rest and relaxation.

The next day, there is this heavy cloud of humidity and smelly thickness in the air.

I go for a run and so much of it hit’s me with a clarity and certainty.

I no longer trust Cape Cod! Because his heart was moved to leave me and it happened here! The Island has betrayed me and it lurks in the coyote’s howl, in the dense humidity, in the thick brown body of the spider in the bathroom of my cottage...the Island is telling me to leave.

My underlying persistance keeps me present despite the trying turmoil.

I take my Godaughter’s to the ocean I am dying for a break from the humidity and I am certain the ocean will offer it. Yet, I carry the knowledge of “Great White” sightings on the cape...several! So I carry a watchful eye as I dive into the waves (frigid and intense).

My Godaughter’s watch and wait turned off by the cold and the drama of the ocean. No one else is in the water at our beach.

Eventually, they follow me and have an earnestness to stay in the Icy water way longer than me. I stand “Lifegaurd” watching the horizon for any sign of shark...Ready to pummel, hit on the nose, curse out, take down, you name it I will protect.

The worst in store for my sweet girls was a bit of wave intensity in that they both got taken out by waves and rolled and surprised and came out coughing and heart’s palpating.

I wrapped them in my towel and encouraged their bravery....what more can you do?

One is fourteen and the other thirteen, they are on the brink of understanding the kind of turmoil their heart’s will experiance. They already understand loss to some degree, their father has passed and yet I think they will be processing this for a lifetime I do believe it has aged them beyond their mean’s.

Do they understand love?

The wave’s have pummeled them both at seperate interval’s and yet they both want to go back in after they have resumed their normal breathing pattern’s, found the spots where the rocks have scraped them, figured out what happened.

One was in the thick of the wave, right in the middle, I watched it take her up and thought she was too much in the center, the other was in front and had cleared the nasty roll of the wave. I saw her limbs as the wave took height, her tall figure lifted up and carried by the wave and I thought to myself “she is too much in the center....”

Like a gymnastic’s coach knows they are off by a hair or a centimeter. The wave lifted her up and shook her down...she was fine. The other has a discomforting habit of turning her back to the waves which makes me an annoying person on the shore,

“TURN AROUND!”, “DIVE’, “STOP LOOKING AT ME!”

Her wave took her at the worst possible place in the rotation. Her back was turned, she was looking at me, the wave had already begun to curl and it grabbed her and threw her into the mix like the smallest minnow of the pack losing it’s school...or “cool” in our terms. She came out of the water terrified, choking and trying to breathe.

I wrapped her in my damp towell and held her.

That was me....in my relationship.

My back was turned when he made up his mind. That’s the worst kind of blow you can suffer. It makes your arms cross around your midriff when you contemplate another dive.

Fortunately for me I only recognize this source of pain when I visit this Island....I am immune to it elsewhere.

I can handle a moment or two in this nasty surf figuring out how to land my feet, how to swaddle my emotion’s, how to make peace with nature who never meant to harm me.

It was all in the timing and I met the wave at precisly the wrong moment.

I get it now...thanks to the Cape and my constant guides who follow me here.

This place will always be my touchstone.

ONLINE...TOO MUCH WINE!

If last summer was the height of my impulsive, “70”’s, face-licking, free spirit and fall was the height of my optimistic, soul searching, believer in all thing’s romance related;

Winter began my phase of ambivalence with dating, romance and all things connected to online pursuit of love.

In hindsight this seems like a natural rhythm anyone might have with a passion they are pursuing. We start out with a certain beginner’s luck so to speak. Our complete and total naiveté makes us open and wide-eyed this is a very magnetic influence and I must say a majority of my dates took place during this period.

Then as we learn the ropes and experience makes us wise we create intention around our action’s and our taste bud's tingle with the thrill of knowing and knowing more!

It is only fair to expect that at every point in a stage wave’s peak and this is exhilarating to say the least and waves also have low’s this can be a time for insight and reflection or sometimes a cause for paralysis based on the lack of momentum and the shift in energy.

I had reached a point of entitlement and boredom by January. I made it through the holiday’s as a single girl dating and seeing men. I had managed to have a great time and avoid the “holiday woes” most singles succumb to. I threw a holiday party and I honored the ties of my friendship’s. I was incredibly pleased with myself entering the New Year.....

Little did I know around the corner lurked a devilish little elf of emotion waiting to embody me.

When the holiday’s passed and I was spinning in the delight that I had not actually been undone by them I failed to notice the transformation in my attitude around dating.

I felt entitled...and I was bored....and I was tired.

Let me break these bad boy’s down a bit.

As a native New Yorker I understand entitlement and the traps that come with it well.

Similar to some of the religious practice’s out there entitlement is based upon suffering.

I know many native’s of New York who feel that a golden key should be placed in their palms with any apartment of their choice in Manhattan at their disposal simply because we grew up here in this ridiculous city where our High School’s had security guards and our playgrounds had abandoned drug paraphernalia.

We may feel this way but the truth is we know at our core that in some way this was our path and it has made us who we are today.

This does not change the ugly truth that when we feel entitled to something we are the farthest from achieving it because the feeling that you deserve an outcome acts as a block to your heart, it becomes the obstacle.

This winter I had assessed my efforts at dating and I believed that I was done....

The universe owed me my man simple as that!

Another word for entitlement is “Black Hole” nothing happens in this phase I have learned.

Hence, bored as my second predicament this winter. My mother always said and this may seem cruel but it was so true, “When you are bored, you are boring.”

If I am wallowing in the belief I deserve my relationship dropped in my lap because I have spent an allotted amount of time committed to it and the process is taking longer than I thought and this is all I have to offer a given situation?

Boring! I tend to agree with my sometimes too truthful mother on this.

All of this leads one to the state of TIRED...

Two sometimes four dates a week, plus my job, and my regular practice left me little room to play with my friends and do the things I love on my off time because on my off time I was getting dressed up, meeting strangers, e-mailing...

My friend Gary said to me “I have never heard of a fairy-tale where the princess meets her prince because she is tired.”

UGH!

In Yoga we talk about Attitude being everything and it is! On occasion I will have a student leave class in the middle or come into class late and I don’t take it personally. This person is in their process and who knows what is going on in their head, in their heart, I can’t comprehend to take that on and the fact that they made it to class or had the self-love to walk away...it’s not my job to decipher this material.

Just because we are in a negative space does not necessarily mean we aren’t listening and more importantly shifting from this vortex of darkness to a place that invites light.

Last winter my attitude about dating was one of entitlement, boredom and fatigue....

Every-time I went online I saw the same faces, I reached the same conclusion’s, I met with the same obstacles. So, like any intelligent human does in a time of darkness I started drinking and going online as my practice...

Wine does alot to alter attitude! That said, wine is not helpful when it comes to discernment and truth...I stopped reading profiles and I stopped looking.

I replied only to those that would write me and I did very little to assess the candidate.

My basic requirement was: is he cute and is he under 40....

Under 40 is good but cute to a woman drinking wine online?

Negotiable....

Still, I do believe despite my poor attitude and my inebriated tactic’s I still managed to navigate my path towards love.

Vimarsha is a sanskrit word meaning reflection and it is of the highest kind. Intimacy is the purest practice of Vimarsha because we see in each-other ourselves.

At times this is emancipating and liberating and at time’s as with all things High and low as I discussed in the beginning we see in this reflection that which we do not wish to ever see! As yogi’s we know this to be a mirror that has brought up painful territory and has very little to do with the one reflecting.

During this period of dating I had my most painful reflection and it shifted me gratefully to where I am now.

Henry wrote me and expressed his interest in me during my winter of dating malaise.

I perused his profile (wordy and lengthy unlike most) which means I looked at his picture cute and more than one and he smiled in one, I surmised his age 35, and I made certain he was employed and lived close to NYC.

Done! I wrote him back...he instantly asked me for a drink and this raised my suspicion.

Dating in NYC is a game of timing and investment it is rare to meet under these circumstances. So I looked closer without my wine induced haze at his lengthy profile.

I did this after agreeing to meet him for a drink.

He met my requirement’s during the day! He was funny, smart, verbal, and sensitive.

He told stories and one of his many interest’s was writing! As I came to the bottom of his profile I found my reflection waiting like a surprise messenger in the wings “Exit pursued by bear” always a possibility with Shakespeare and boy did that man have a brilliant grip on life.

At the end of his profile Henry boldly announces his tragedy. He is missing a leg. He does this with a vulnerability and an amazing inner source of confidence in his writing style. It is my wish to honor him and not quote his profile but it was incredible his bravery and skill to put it out there on a dating site where most people confuse boldness with sexual prowess and skill.

I was blinded and disarmed by this discovery. I couldn’t fathom it and I had very little self- awareness at the time to process it.

I wanted out! I called my friend Mindy and told her the deal. She is a tried and true native of New York. We grew up together and now she lives in SanFransisico and after many years of her own “Dating” journey she is now married and incredibly fulfilled.

She is one of my many “Dolphin Friend’s” who would like to see me happily mated and does everything she can to positively skate me through this period.

“I agreed to meet him for a drink and now I just found out he is missing a leg!”

Mindy is an Iron-man champion and she has been around athlete's of all shapes and sizes including those that partake in these events with handicap’s.

I must say I have very little exposure in this forum and it shows in my complete lack of composure and grace.

After hearing me out Mindy says “Look, this is the least of your worries you have to meet him! There are fetish’s out there for amputee’s! Some people would kill to be in your shoes. In fact there are magazine’s all about people missing limb’s more popular than “Playboy”. My friend Rachel has a fantasy about a guy who is missing a leg. It’s sexy!” Here she sold me “I would much rather date a guy with one leg, than a smoker.”

That made sense to me....I kept the date and I braced myself because really all my fear and hesitancy was a “Vimarsha”. A reflection back to me of my own personal handicap’s and limitation’s.

I picked the bar on the lower east side and I was there first, early. Instantly I recognized my mistake. The place was crowded and full and there wasn’t a seat in the house. I was nervous! My protective instincts were on high gear and I knew this place was wrong. This throttled me awake from my dazed winter slumber.

When a person is ambivalent they lack emotional connection and care....there is very little at stake and very little meaning.

Henry’s predicament had me on high alert and I wanted to protect him as most women have a natural instinct to do.

I waited for him on the street. I expected he would have a prosthetic leg and possibly a cane? He had no leg and two crutches....my heart went out to him and yet I wanted to behave “normally”....what? Nothing about this was “normal”.

I told him the bar was full and we should go across the street. We found two seats at the bar across the street and proceeded to have a pleasant “normal” conversation between two people who have just met...

When sitting it was easy to feel we were on mutual ground. I used to have a boyfriend who was 6’3” and I am 5’4” mind you. Whenever were out walking, dancing, meeting for a kiss it felt like alien’s attempting to interact. We soon loved our time together sitting or laying down because our entire reflection of each-other was even.

Henry and I had the same level of interaction here on our date. Two people sitting at the bar! Then he told me his story...it was inevitable.

He lost his leg in college while rushing a fraternity. He was on a scavenger hunt in the building’s of his University and one of the classroom’s was undergoing construction. A giant piece of Plywood fell on him across his lap...he waited 13 hours for someone to find him. Not your average first date conversation but...amazing and engaging and real.

His ability to share, my ability to listen and be empathetic this made for an intense first date exposure. Most first dates are laden with a certain superficial dance of hidden agenda and flirtation. This one was raw, exposed and steeped in confrontation which was exactly what I needed at the time.

I saw him and I saw me being seen by him and seeing myself seeing him....

Vimarsha!

Henry lost his leg in College when he was 19 years old and his life was full of promise and possibility. When we met he was 35 years old and spent almost the same amount of time on this earth without a leg full of promise and possibility from a new perspective.

His ability to go online and to share his story his amazing bravery inspired me and it drew me out of my own personal comfort zone.

I told him the story of my own handicap. I lost my best friend when I was seven. For me this was not equivalent to losing a leg...I can’t comprehend that loss.

What I can comprehend is the life that has changed as a result of this traumatic event and the way a spirit, a soul, a human being is shaped with this painful loss in our bloodstream, in our heart-stream, in our every endeavor.

This date brought to surface a great deal of sadness for me. I went home and cried.

I tried to establish who I was crying for, but it was unclear.

I was crying for Henry, I was crying for myself, I was crying for my lost best friend who like a limb was taken from me and I always feel the painful ache even when no one can see it.

The people we meet have a past and our lives are full of gain and abundance but equally so full of loss and departure. It may not be as visible as a missing limb but truth be told we are all in a state of longing for something, someone, at this stage in our lives we have experienced loss to some degree and this takes it’s toll on us.

Some of us reply by burying this loss and navigating life as a tool to avoid this innate scar on our psyche. Some of us choose to look, to live, to share and carry this loss as one of the many experience's life has offered. In Henry’s case his loss is evident to all and he has grown accustomed to explaining it, to living with it, to making his mark on this earth in the best way he knows how.

We never met again after this date and we never spoke again either.

I think it was a mutual agreement that we needed to meet for our single purpose’s but that our togetherness was not in the cards.

I am so full of gratitude for our meeting because I learned my heart is compassionate even when I am down and I bear a loss from my past that I must honor and recognize when I am safe and comfortable enough to share.

It was a sobering encounter that brought me closer to my own Vimarsha and helped me to distinguish how and when I wished to share this reflection with other’s.

I am so grateful to have the choice....

CRUISE SHIPS AND DOLPHINS CAN WE MATE?

"Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back-- Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth that ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now."

-Gothe

A quote I have earnestly trusted and favored from the moment I heard it. Something I struggle with whilst dating is this gray area, this unfamiliar terrain that is suggestive of so many possibilities. Are we both looking for the same thing? Some people are just looking to get laid, some for attention, some for temporary companionship and all of this should be made clear by the little heading under “What am I seeking? long term dating, short term dating, (my personal favorite!) activity partners. How do you know the person you are about to meet with is ready for the same valued level of companionship as you?

I remember with my so called “Soul-mate” we reached a point of hesitation....his in this case. It was about three months into the relationship and he was drawing back and full of uncertainty. As we were navigating this time through discussion he expressed his process of committing to our relationship.

He said he was like a great big cruise ship trying to navigate a very sharp turn and that he had to move slowly and take a wide turn in order to make the journey. This made so much sense to me at the time! Of course! Because I see the good in things I recognized he was indeed planning on making the turn in the first place and that appeared to me promising and full of possibility. I was willing to wait him out. I think a lot of us are. The question is why does it have to be so slow, so cautious, so tiresome? As my dolphin waited him out playing in the waves having already immersed my heart in the treasure of our togetherness she grew distracted and distant. In the beginning when I am into someone...I am always game that is my Dolphin instinct and it never occurs to me to draw back. When I am confronted with a slow cruise ship taking a slow turn with hesitancy and distance I immediately retract. I would imagine a Dolphin might do the same in the freaking ocean! Do you know where you are going buddy? Do you even see me? Do you plan on running me over with the weight of your clumsy birth?

As it turned out my “Soul Mate” cruise ship smashed onto rocks anyhow and sunk heavily like the omniscient ship it was and I watched it all happen.

So, this brings me to dating and the dilemma of how to be true to my essence and honor theirs? From what I have witnessed and heard this cruise ship analogy isn’t all that unique to just one man....many of them have an adverse response to commitment and the turn is slow and wide and full of analytical weather charts as to how to chart the course, is there a better route? should we abort mission altogether? Head to Majorca instead? She’s sexy!

Last summer I came upon Steve Harvey’s book on dating “How to act like a woman, Think like a man”.

In it he uses a fishing analogy that some women are keepers and some are just sport fish you plan on throwing back....he say’s that we the women decide this role by being either too available right off the bat or willing to hold out otherwise.

I hated this analogy it supported everything I despise about the male/female dating interaction. Where we withhold sex for up to 60 days, always let him pay, and never boldly step towards him.

I left the book under Senator John Kerry’s butt on a ferry returning home from Nantucket. I hoped to all my higher power’s he was wrong. (Steve not John).

The truth is, I don’t know. I have come to a place in my dating regime where I find it essential to be honest and yet this is not well received out there in the male world. It appears to me that Steve might be a bit right and this feels like a massive misalignment.

I don’t want to play the game in this way. It feels inauthentic and like I am wearing a tight pair of jeans for far to long. When I have a new student come take an open class and after class on occasion they have this shell shocked look like “This is not for me!” I always take them aside and I urge them...”Take three classes before you make any decisions, leave it open.”

How does this work in dating? I have tried but it always comes up one way or another. Because in yoga it is one person coming to class. With our dates we have to coordinate, be available, have the same criteria in mind. Three dates are actually pretty hard to come by! Sadly so...

I am not interested in sizing a man up like a potential cruise ship. What are his credentials', how much money does he make, how long has he been out there dating? This has never been my motive.

I remember one of my first dates last summer with a very handsome Indian/Italian man who looked ten times better in person than his photo.

He made reservation’s at his favorite (usual) place. The owner of the restaurant loved him and treated me like a queen. He proceeded to order a bottle of wine and his method of seduction? Commitment.

I smelled it a mile away the way I can smell Paco Rabanne in an empty elevator.

We were talking about India and the fact that I teach yoga. He was incensed I had never been to India. (I am used to this) I explained, my teacher is from Texas he has studied in India and I will go one day when I have a personal invite or a connection or a reason to go...in the meantime I am content with my Teacher’s stories, my peer’s stories, my reading material’s....I am closely connected with the culture despite my traveled presence there.

He leaned in close “I will take you to India!”

Janis Joplin has a great interview on tape with Dick Cabott. He ask’s her about her song “Piece of my Heart”.

She say’s “Well, it’s about this mule that stands out there all day long”

Dick asks “Who is the mule? The man?”

Janis replies, “Well, the mule is the woman you see and they stick this carrot out in front of the mule all day long and the man is the carrot always holding up something he is not prepared to give!”

That was my first carrot on this date. I smiled and did my best to be gracious.

Then he asked me about my love of cooking and asked if I enjoyed Indian food.

I told him truthfully that I had not discovered an Indian restaurant in New York that prepared Indian food the way I enjoyed it. “Oh!” he replied “You must let me cook for you!”

At this moment I saw visually he was holding out diamonds and pearls like a Marilyn Monroe movie and I could reach for them my bosom fleshy and free or lay low like a frigid librarian.

He wanted to get me to go to his Hotel that night....not India.

That was exactly one year ago. I suppose since then I have gotten wily in my ways. I was aware of the game then and now I can smell the cruise ship exhaust from an e-mail. I suppose you could call me jaded and limited but I prefer to think of it as an expansion of self.

I am clear and I rejoice in my clarity! I have refined my outlook on love and yes this limits me but the boundaries are there to protect me from wasted energy and heat. This way I can stay true to my Dolphin essence. I desire to play in the waves of love I am ready to dive, to frolic, to live freely. There is no way in Hell I plan to be anchored to the weight of a cruise ship full of hesitancy and uncertainty....I will wait out my Dolphin man.

He must be out there they can’t all be cruise ships?

THE ONE NIGHT STAND

When I was 4 years old walking the streets of Soho with my mother we came upon a large red labrador retriever waiting for it’s companion outside the store.

The dog instantly opened it’s mouth and licked the side of my face.

Giant scratchy, slurpy dog droll and all...I did the appropriate thing I licked the side of the dog’s face right back!

When it comes to intimacy I have always had the impulse to get closer. Whatever it is! I stick my nose in the flower to smell more sweetness. To partake in relationship deeply is one of my definition’s of intimacy and this is certainly my life’s purpose, always has been just not sure I always recognized it as such.

There has always been an impulsiveness in my dealings with this force inside myself and sometimes it is based on instinct and I follow the right choices and sometimes it is simply my force of nature barreling down doors to closeness that are better left shut.

Some of these entries expose my vulnerability on navigating more wisdom around my interaction’s with intimacy and in the process of doing that I have made poor choices, I have made wise choices, I have made wise choices that have led to poor outcomes and I have made stupid decisions that have brought me boon’s. I can’t say there is a particular right and wrong in the way I view my action’s except to say that as long I am genuine and authentic in being myself and living out my life’s purpose, I am on the right path.

Last summer was a summer of keeping things light for me. I have always felt a strong sense of responsibility and yet I have an inner 4 year old that longs to get out there and lick many faces!

Fortunately, I have only one licked face to tell you about.

It was Gay Pride weekend and the city is always bustling with ripe sexuality, gregariousness, and a thirst for adventure.

My friend Rocky and I were out on the town bar-hopping which always makes for an interesting night. She and I go back to Junior High together so our inner teenagers are always engaged when we are in each-other's company.

She is a sexy, gorgeous blonde with a great laugh and men tend to organize themselves around her. I am a cute, funny, sexy brunette....you know the drill.

I really don’t mind because bar-hopping has never been my ideal social outlet for unleashing high hopes for love it is mere entertainment that I partake in kind of like karaoke...you do it every so often and it stay’s funny...too often and it is a bit disconcerting.

I am at that point in the night where the alcohol and the interaction’s have produced my outer bubble. My outer bubble is a protective energetic shield that keeps people from interfering with me...in other words I should go home.

Yet, Rocky is holding court over the pool table with a couple admirers and I believe very firmly in the buddy system so I am content to sit on the couch, watch and observe.

This is when he decides to sit beside me and make small talk.

He is ridiculously handsome and I am immediately certain he is gay.

I will preface and say I am not the best with this...my “gay-dar” has been off in the past and I am not considered a likely oracle in my circle when it comes to deciphering a man’s sexual preference.

He is good company. He is funny and inquisitive and his eyes are mediterranean and sparkle with gold flecks of light.

I am also a little over intoxicated and the bubble is still holding my space.

Not even sure why he chose to talk to me at this stage in the evening seeing how he is gay but I make the most of a pleasant conversation keeping my eyes on Rocky, making sure she is ok. She is a fiery Italian and after drinking she has been known to cause a stir but this is also my responsibility factor holding court in my loyal heart. My friends are my life and I will protect them.

Back to my gay guy who is professing his attraction to me...Wait I say “Nuh, anh....you are gay Monsieur and mistaken! Its pride weekend! Get out there and party!”

I know this sounds lewd, obscure, and many things....but it made perfect sense to me at the time to say this to him. That is my only defense.

Surprisingly! He was unscathed by my ridiculous out of line statement. He took it as a challenge. “I will show you how gay I am” and he kissed me.

I kissed him back....Not so gay.

We kissed some more....hmmmm, no definitely not gay.

The bar is closing and I receive an invite from my now not so gay admirer to accompany him to Brooklyn.

The dog licker in me erased my bubble of protection and accepted the invitation.

I was attracted, fascinated, and when I am wrong I am always provoked to deep curiosity to seek, to know, to get closer to that which I don’t know anything about.

We put Rocky in a cab home while she screamed threats in Italian at my suitor....she has her own protective instincts.

We got in a cab and went to his house in Williamsburg. A gorgeous place! We sat on his roof and watched the sun come up over Brooklyn.

We retired to his dark, air conditioned cave and crashed.

When I awoke I took in my surroundings. The room was dark and very cave-like hard to establish time of day darkness. I went to the bathroom and got some water he had a brita with cold lemon water...I loved this!

I went back to his room and he was stirring we kissed and while we were embracing I realized quite horribly that I did not know his name....

How had I managed to get through High School, College, my twenties, most of my thirties and here I was at 37 a perfect cliche.

Shame and embarrassment brought on my defensive shield.

“Hey, good morning!” I said after we stopped kissing.

“Morning, gorgeous” he said.

“Do you know my name?” I asked.

Another great moment for me.

“Ummmm” he said. “I guess I don’t.”

I moved away from him defensively.

Mind you the guy just woke up and here is where he amazed me.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“PU-leeze!” I spat in defense “I don’t think so!”

“Oh, come on don’t be hurt! It was that kind of a night. Tell me your name?”

Tight lipped I refused and shut down physically because I was so internally embarrassed for myself I didn’t know his name and that mattered to me. He was fine and had no clue about my inner turmoil he had no cares as to whether I knew his name or not.

“Ok” he said. “I may not know your name but....” he grabbed my hand and held it. “If I can tell you ten things about you that I know, will you tell me your name?”

Tight lips pursed defiantly, I said “Twenty and you have a deal.”

Mind you...I don’t know his name!

“Ok...twenty, piece of cake” he said with confidence and ease.

I get into a mode of protection and defiance every once in a blue moon when and most often it is internally based. I have done something or said something or eaten something that just was not in my character and I can’t make peace with it. So the waves of my persona begin crashing upon the rocks in order to soothe my inner conscious. He was my calm sea though! He was unpreterrbed and deliberate....it rather annoyed me and I had no faith he would pass the test.

One: You live in Soho

Two: Your mom is a tap dancer

Three: You teach yoga

Four: You wanted a tattoo when you were twenty but your sister discouraged you because it was a tramp stamp and a cobra and you had no idea of the consequences living with that on your back so you didn’t get it.

Five: You sing

Six: You dance

Seven: You love to cook

Eight: Your friend is a possessive Italian who you have known since the age of 12

Nine: You have been to Hawaii

Ten: You love cheese

Eleven: You have a sister and a stepbrother

Twelve: You grew up in NYC

Thirteen: Your best friend is getting married in October and you can’t wait.

Fourteen: You are a good kisser

Fifteen: You like old rap music

Sixteen: You tell people you speak Italian but really you don’t

Seventeen: You are buying a house on cape cod

Eighteen: You lost your best friend

Nineteen: You dig my apartment

Twenty: You are glad you met me.

I was undone....I had no defense, I was blown away. It was one of my sweetest dearest dating moments of the year.

Here I was obsessing on whether I knew his name, whether he knew mine and he smoked that significance out with a bonfire of good intention.

Yet, I had no comeback. I wasn’t really paying attention. I was consumed with my daring choice of action that was outside my normal limit and it was not my comfort zone.

Clearly it was his! And this is my point that when we are being authentic and to the point we engage in a way that exudes our gifts and our purpose.

I was out of my range. I was in Brooklyn! I didn’t know his name and I was reeling in my own angst about breaking out of my comfort zone and having my first ever cliche one night stand.

This did not sit well with me....but his energy and his ability to recite twenty things to me about myself whilst I sat there and listened.

This broke down a layer from my past.

In yoga we talk about patterns and how when you break an old pattern a part of you will most likely pulsate, shake, vibrate and this is your bodies way of shifting physically.

After my night of debauchery, after my choice to go home with him, after his list of twenty, my inner core was shaken and I needed time to process.

He made me breakfast and we spent some more time together.

But my inner core was shaken and couldn’t wait to get out.

I hit the rode and got the heck out of dodge.

He was the one who taught me more about intimacy in a year of dating online than anyone.

Intimacy is paying attention and listening and being in your skin.

When our choices are so out of character that our ego’s are alert and unleashed to the extent of excruciating numbness or self centeredness we are the farthest from intimacy we can ever hope for. We are like a Shakespearean Tragedy filled with revenge and paranoia unable to hear our closest sage’s speak words of wisdom.

I made a pact to stay close to my heart’s gift which is a deep desire to know to seek to learn to admire and when I am not listening or able to listen I remove myself from the picture as one would take a deep breath and pause and wait....

If I cannot recite twenty things about someone I have kissed and known physically/ intimately something is deeply off with my connection to my inner being.

What’s in a name? David proved me wrong in that assumption. There is far more to be found in a list of twenty. Have you been paying attention? And to what? Are you allowing for intimacy based on your heart’s fiery curiosity for knowing? Or are you stuck in your ego’s need to take stock in the outcome, your attractiveness, your decision to invest time spent with this being?

When someone licks you out in the world you have every right to take stock in the moment and pause. You can ask question’s, listen, hesitate this is all part of intimacy. There is no requirement based on superficial interest that you lick a person back without investment.

If you do, I promise you uncertainty will show it’s ugly face regardless.

Better off doing it from the start. Twenty things is a good place to begin... not necessarily end.