2016 did not suck, ok???

To everyone complaining that this was the worst year ever. Was it really? Every year people get excited as the new year approaches ready to exit the previous year. Look, if anyone can complain about 2016, it could possibly be me. I started and ended the year getting dumped by the same dude! Sure, the election bit, I mean, we were handed the worst of the worst and ended up with the worser of the worst. The economy isn't really what they claim, much of America is living below the poverty line and the world is at so many meaningless wars over fossil fuel and futile demands for power.

Was 2016 the worst? Really, was it the very worst?

I spent the first six months of 2016 in agony. I was dumped, and dumped, and made up with and dumped, I was trying to get through my senior year of college as a very senior non-traditional student, my son was on the verge of 14 and oozing with puberty and my workload was extraordinarily challenging. My health has been teetering, I'm going through peri-menopause and everything inside me is out of whack.

So what? Really, so what? In the first teachings of buddhism, there's the Four Noble Truths and you know what the first one is? In life there is suffering. Yup, Siddharta say... Life Sucks! Ok that's the first noble truth. That's the reality. Life always has suckage. Life is full of suffering.

What I know is from my greatest struggles, my biggest pain and my hardest challenges come life's sweetest rewards. I learn so much and grow exponentially when I'm going through the hard stuff. The last couple of weeks have been agonizing. Going through finals while the same dude who comes and goes decides to dump me by text while I'm sitting on his steps going to meet him to celebrate the 3 year anniversary of our first date with my son and his bestie in tow. Talk about humiliating! (he never broke up with me in person by the way.. he feels his electronic tirade of abuse is closure enough)

And did I mention Grad School sucks so bad! I mean, it's hard, challenging, in the mix of normal life, time consuming and the material is well... it's not the joyous fun undergrad was at all. Right now I'm looking ahead at a 20 page paper I need to write this month before going back to school after break. Ugh.

Plus, my work stuff is at the winter stand still, and I have a few jobs to finish up and who knows what January will look like.

You know what?

SO WHAT! So what?

When I look back at 2016, I can see a lot to celebrate. I overcame many of the challenges and hardships I faced the first six months of 2016. My son and I had a break over the summer, and he came home a grown up more present teenager who appreciates me and his life here. I finished a novella for my senior project which was cathartic and emotional and personal. I dug deep into my pain and wrote a fictional tale that pulled the pain out of me and created a powerful accomplished 90 page piece. I graduated from college, not just any college, I got a BARD COLLEGE degree, class of 2016. It was the greatest personal success of my life. Sure, my wedding day was special, the birth of my son unimaginably amazing but.. this was different. My graduation day was mine, it was something I did for me despite my parent's criticism and all the odds against me, I did it, I got my degree! My guy and I got back together for one last time, and the last six months of 2016 with him were idyllic, dreamy, special and wonderful. Whatever the outcome, I got to love and feel love and supported. I had a person who backed me up for a while, and now I know more than ever what I want for my future.

I could be wallowing, depressed and drowning my sorrows in a pile of self medication and junk food. Instead, I'm celebrating me, liberated, beautiful, growing pains, digging in, learning, warrior me. This year, it's about kicking back and enjoying the deliciousness of life, the beautiful winter, carving up turns on the slopes, and mingling with new and old friends. Instead of isolating, I am going to go forth, go to my yoga classes, socialize, make plans, reach out and connect.

Life sucks, so what? Everyone has suffering in their life. I know my tough times got the best of my earlier this year and from those mistakes, challenges, and efforts I've learned a lot about me.

For the first time in a while, I feel really content, at ease, liberated and happy. It took me a long time to let go of what doesn't serve me, but right now... letting go feels good. There's no reason to make room for the things that cause me anguish, that bring me down and I'm not responsible for fixing other people's toxic problems.

This holiday season, I did something kind of fun, I donated and sent anonymous gifts out to all sorts of places. A few things I did? I sent donations to charities I care about, sent hats to the local elementary school to give to kids who need warm stuff, gave a turkey to a family that didn't have one for Thanksgiving, sent dog toys and blankets to the local shelter just to name a few, sent presents to friends who are far away that I thought might be surprised and that's the tip of the iceberg. Giving and giving when I really am hardly in the position to felt amazing. Knowing that I don't have to see the response, but that I made people out there happy by standing in generosity felt so good.

There's a lot to celebrate this holiday. My son is home with me and wants to be! We are closer than we've been in a long time. The house is getting super cleaned (we dumped a ton of stuff the past two days and we're not done), I got us a tree (better late than never) and Santa let me know he'll be here on Saturday night. Yay!

We may not have a lot of financial security or a dude in the house, but we have each other, we're giggling and there's lots of snow on the mountain. 2017 will be about finishing my grad school degree, taking care of my health and my heart, raising my amazing son, looking to the future and taking a good laugh at the Donald (because, when you stop being angry and just look at it, he's hilarious).

Every year is good and ever year sucks, ok? 2016 was pretty beat energetically and the election cycle definitely fucked up a lot for a lot of people's equanimity. Oh well, so be it. Time to look ahead at what's in my backyard and what matters most. I have a lot of love in my life, and I adore all the people who we pull close to us. It's ok I don't have a bio family, or a man... I've got a lot of abundance and whatever... some other dude will come along when the dust settles, I have a lot to offer and a huge heart right?

Happy Holidays y'all.

this guy was meant for me.....

I’m going to tell you a story so personal, only a handful of people know it. A story about me that reveals more than most people know a story I was trying to spit out over dinner yesterday with a friend... but couldn’t... because I’m better at divulging myself more eloquently on "paper" than with my mouth...

If you could see a younger version of me... the one that was twenty nine, you would meet a woman who commanded a certain power and leadership. Independent, smart and rising in the ranks of the NYC agency scene, I was racing to the zenith of something with a wake of broken hearts behind me. My vigilance spread across every aspect of my life, gym 7x a week, yoga 5x a week, work 24/7, sleep optional and a pair of leather pants for every occasion. My trajectory consisted of one thing... get to Executive Vice President by 30 (this did happen along with partnership). Consequences of how I got there were irrelevant, my effect on others inconsequential. I cared about one thing... winning.


I was never one of those girls who played "house" as a kid or imagined a wedding or a baby. In fact if I saw a pregnant woman on the street it would send me running, because I was afraid that somehow she might be contagious. While my other girlfriends and sister may have been on that mission, I had my eye on one prize, increasing my success and trampling anything that got between me and my ambitious goals.

When I met my now very ex husband, I did what I always used to do in those days... walk into the room, point at the guy with whom I'd be with and 'win' him too. I will forgo the "love" story and get on with what hopefully will be the point of this missive.

When Randouche Mastelbate proposed to me... I laughed. Yes, I looked the love struck man in the face and laughed. Me? Married? Engaged? That convention for those other people sure, but me? F@#$CK no! It may sound cruel, but I really did laugh, I thought he was playing some kind of prank. But he wasn't, he was being totally serious.

Something came over me, I let go and I looked into his pained eyes. I did love him... and something happened... I surrendered... (one of many times I have surrendered in my life) and ... I got married. My wedding was one of the greatest events of all time, we exchanged vows under the BKLYN bridge, had a reception in a DUMBO loft with Superfine food and Organic Grooves.

... and I had a new mission, to make us 'the' coolest power couple ... I opened him an art gallery in DUMBO, my agency based in the back office was raking in real dollars and my staff did my bidding while I went right back to world domination, we became increasingly popular in the arts circles and scenes of choice, we moved into this gorgeous duplex loft, meals were sourced all over town, entertained fabulous parties, at art openings we would laugh at the whispers, "omg, are those the Mastels? yes, yes, it's really them" we ... we... had it all and...

then.. 9/11... I lost all of my business in 4 days and then... how this happened is a miracle... I GOT PREGNANT.

We didn't want kids. But remember I didn't want to be married either. I made being married "cool" somehow, that it would be different but now... aching, confused, plagued... I got pregnant. I never wanted children. For a million reasons and rants, I was not going to have kids. I didn't believe it, peed on multiple sticks that instantly reverted to plus signs, blue lines, pink dots (I peed on a lot of sticks).


I told my parents I was pregnant at dinner, they were floored. Their response felt like what I would have gotten if I were a teenager. Cowering in my seat, I knew... this wasn't really happy news. My sister seethed with jealousy, this was her plan to get married and have kids, not mine. I'm not "mom" material, this is going to be a wretched disaster.

Days later, I'm sitting in my father's car. He's not an affectionate guy, but he was holding my hand. "I don't know what to do dad, I'm so scared."


"If you want to get rid of it, I'll go with you," my father said, "we'll save your marriage, it's the right thing to do."


With that, I made an appointment.... I was going to terminate the baby. In my Elissa Jane style... I made the appointment for 2 days before my 12 weeks were up. This would not be an impulsive move. I'd read whatever I could read and research before making a "choice" I had fought for years to have the right to have. I believed that doing due diligence here would be important and that before I went ahead and made this drastic decision, I'd plan and give it proper thought.
The eve of my appointment, I choked.

I had a check up around 9 weeks and heard the baby's heart beat. I thought I didn't care...that my mind was made up. Something tweaked in me... I took 'responsibility' for the life inside me and chose to take this on. I cancelled the appointment... and well.... my son turns 11 this week.

My pregnancy was a total drag, nothing like the movies. My birth was also one of those crazy stories riddled with extra trips to the emergency room, some RN freaking out that I had placenta previa (I didn't), 11 hours with my legs up, all sorts of drugs to make the baby come out (he wouldn't).

I had a birth plan. Did I? Do you know me at all? Yes I did. My birth plan was close to 8 pages long with instructions on just about every detail. I brought 10 copies which I distributed to nurses, RNs, etc... and also put one in my chart and on the door. I had every detail mapped out. At the hospital, I had two bags full of "gear" to get me through from special pillows to a stack of CDs so I could DJ through my experience with the perfect tune for every stage of the opening of my cervix. None of this happened. My naturally planned childbirth was moved to an emergency special monitoring area where I was unhappily drugged up with labor inducing cocktails, monitors and an overall feeling of failure.


Nothing about this was going as I planned. It was time for a C-section, there were no other options. As they rolled me into the table, my compassionate DR ordered Randouche to go get my boombox and put on my requested soundtrack. This would be Future Sounds Of London "LifeForms" and in less than 10 minutes ... they cut, oh wait, the baby's head is bigger than we thought, they cut again... ok... we can get him out now... Zoren was pulled from me and displayed to me in a grey and red messy ball of tiny human with thick black hair.

There was no turning back now, the baby was here.

In the years that have followed I've learned patience, letting go of expectations, acceptance and what unconditional love really is. I've done my best to make Motherhood 'cool' although there are times this has to be the most mundane uncool typical life on earth. Don't ask me how many times I've cooked "circle pasta with butter." We don't eat at a dining table or keep a schedule. I had to go to a counselor to learn how to 'discipline' my kid. I don't do well with PTA or school authority. At one point I took on the role of Den Mother, that lasted six months. I could care less if my son tests well, although he's in some 90-something percentile for awesomeness and tests well without much effort. He is smart, loves to read, gets great grades without trying, kills it at every sport he tries and has the insight of a very old soul.


I haven't told this to too many people for a myriad of reasons. Guess if I'm blogging it, it's no longer a private story is it?

Somehow, over the years, I've forgotten all about that era... because it feels like there is the life before I was a mom that is fading deeper and deeper into the annals of my memory banks... and the person you see now is a result of acceptance and the gifts I've gotten from the lessons being Zman's mom. Let me tell you … being his mom is the easy part, it is LIFE that is freakin hard!!!

You see, what I think I'm trying to say is... getting married, having a kid... that wasn't "me". But now I cannot imagine loving myself more than I do now... as the person who has learned and grown over the past 11 years.


If 29 year old me looked at 44 year old me... she'd spit, barf, chastise, berate and decimate me for what I've become. I'm everything I said I'd never be. Trust me, there's much I'm grateful for... my 20s were a selfish wonderful time, I saw the world, traveled with bands, had an apartment in Amsterdam, lived out of suitcases, made gobs of money and spent it unwisely, I lead my universe.... and had I not been through all of that, I may have resented my son.


Look... life doles out all kinds of stuff we can't control. Like... I was on the pill and I got pregnant. Life is full of surprises. What if I didn't say yes to Randouche? And we didn't have Z? And I didn't take that job? And I didn't get on that plane, or sign that deal or ....

There's no way to carve out or control the expectations of what we think life is supposed to look like. I am learning every day that all I have is what is in front of me.

When I look at the Zman, I see the world through his eyes, learn lessons about attachments, being reactive, the challenges of being different and carving out a self esteem, being socially awkward and that catching crayfish in the stream in front of our house can be really cool!

I get that loving me on my own is no longer an option, that if someone wants to be in my life they need to love 'us'... because we are this unit that can't be compartmentalized for very long. It's a blessing and a curse I suppose, to realize that I can't separate myself as an individual chick anymore, that I have this person tethered to me regardless of what I do.

It's really amazing that Zoren turns 11 tomorrow. That 11 years ago today I was strapped into a bed with all kinds of drugs and monitors I didn't want, in pain, in fear, in panic.... but he arrived, a perfect bundle of awesome ready to reinvent me in ways I could have never imagined.

Happy Birthday lil buddy...

depriving myself of the deprivation

it is interesting... to look at how excess brought me... to a place of indulgence... that lead to a gluttonous downward spiral.  if you've read any of my posts, you're well aware of some of my darkness.

so... over the past few years, I chipped away at the indulgence, which was really a barrier between me and my truth.  I stopped getting high.  I stopped drinking.  I stopped intentionally self-destructing.  I stopped dating.  I quelled my craving.  I practiced letting go.  I practiced cutting the cord between me and my cravings and wanting.  clearing the decks of the things that seemed toxic, I made way to have a really intimate relationship.

that person I got close to, is myself.  I found a raw child, with her development frozen in time by self-numbing and hiding from her own reality.

in this process ... delusion dissolved, not all of it, but a fair amount.  under the layers of silt, I found myself.  removing these things felt like deprivation, but once I let go of wanting... freedom emerged.

I suppose, I've done what monks do.  as a laywoman practitioner, I'll never really be able to experience extended retreats, or take residence in a monastery.  instead, I found a little place far away, cleared out the toxins and people and removed myself as much as I could from society as I know it, so that I could mend what was left of me.

I'm grateful for the years in the lil cabin.  the practice I've taken on thus far.  despite the fact that I have fallen off my self-care track, I know that I'm still caring for myself in ways I never did just a few years ago.

tomorrow, I embark on a 28 day commitment to sit, practice and discover Real Happiness with an electronic sangha.  I've cleared the way, prepared my room, washed the dishes, straightened up.  tomorrow, I have the opportunity to start the day any way I want.  tomorrow, I will wake up and choose joy.  the best part is, my four years of dharma study and practice have taught me that I know how.  it is something I can do.  I will do.  I'm doing it.

not sure what the next 28 days will bring, but I know that I am ready to end my deprivation practice.  not that I need to be gluttonous, but I'm enjoying my dance back to a more normal way of life.  if I'm being cryptic, I guess here's the part where I confess, I broke my sobriety.  I've been very quiet about it, mainly because I don't want to draw attention to it.  it's not a big deal.  well, I suppose it is, but it's really not.  nothing changed when I drank that first sip of sake at the noodle bar.  no one died.  nothing tragic happened.  no fireworks went off, or alarms.  it was a lovely moment between two friends, sharing dinner.  it was... well.. um, normal.

all this deprivation, has separated me from 'life' in a different way.  I swung from one end of the spectrum to the other.  deprivation was not  the middle way, well, at least, it doesn't feel like it for me.

I don't know what is next... but I am ready to break the seals of things I've held myself back from.  I'm done separating myself from society.   of course, I know that I love myself enough to not want to injure myself, or do anything that could jeopardize how far I've come.  but if Real Happiness is the quest, the end goal, then my next chapter is to step back into LIFE, busy active real life filled with all kinds of fulfilling experiences.

I'll document my 28 day journey..... stay tuned.

everything happens for a reason

Over the course of this past weekend, I had several conversations that seemed to lead me back to one of my least favorite phrases, "Everything happens for a reason."  Man I hate that expression.  Really, everything?  I think if you're evolved enough, you can easily find lessons in EVERYTHING that happens in life.

I do believe that events happen as a combination of fate and free-will.  While I don't believe that there is a puppet master pulling strings trying to guide our experiences, I do recognize the intricate web all of our karma creates weaving experiences together in what feels something like fate.

Many people say that we come together with other people for a reason, that there is a destiny that can justify how people meet.  I wish I could believe that the people in my life have placement in my world because of this romantic notion that we were meant to meet.  Unfortunately, I just can't fully get on board with the idea that each and every person in my life has an intrinsic purpose and a part to play and that it was pre-destined that we'd meet.

None the less... I took a good look at the people in my life this weekend... going back in time, wandering the streets of the neighborhoods where I lived, worked, made impressions and created connections with hosts of people, wandering by old apartments, bars I drank in, shops I shopped in, places I rolled my son in his stroller, my old Urban Monster store front and the vacant space where our favorite coffee once was...  I could see details that continue to remain a constant and the changes.  I was able to identify how I have made a mark on people in a time line that makes up my life with the symbolism of architectural details which remain and the things that were new and different. 

Soaking in nostalgic feelings of a lifetime behind me and seeing old friends with whom I shared a sense of community at one point highlighted snapshots of a lifetime's journey behind me.  I have met so many people in my almost forty-two years of life.   At different points, many of them have had a purpose for why they entered my life.  Each of them connects me and anchors me to humanity in someway or another.  In the mix of people I saw over the weekend... there were people I am close to, people I used to be close to, and some people with whom I am no longer friends.  Time changes, and each of these people have taught me something, even if the thing they presented me was merely that feeling of community and human connection.  There's something really great as an alien like freak to have that feeling of being able to connect with someone else on any level.

One thing I'm super grateful for right now are the people with whom I am closest to right now.  I have a small circle of friends in my life right now with whom I'd say I have deep connections with.  Everyone in my life right at this moment has a purpose, because the people in my life today mirror a more authentic version of myself than I've ever portrayed before.  As I continue to evolve and grow, I'm attracting new people into my life who provide me with a new sense of connection and deeper level of understanding and support.

You see, it isn't the universe or a puppeteer who brings this love into my life... it is me.  My action, my change, my evolution isn't so different from the store fronts of Smith Street.  There is change and there are constants, it won't stop the gentrification of the neighborhood.  It may make some people sad to see a shop close... but it only makes room for something new to take it's place.  And honestly, if you don't like it, you can do like I did, and MOVE up and out all together.  

The Goats Ate My Mala Beads

I was in Los Angeles, just finishing my fourth weekend of Dharma Punx Facilitator Training. I was on a bit of a high, excited about everything that was to come. The weekend was spiritually fruitful and educationally productive. I learned a great deal from my peers and teacher, and had the connection and feeling that things were really gelling.

When I arrived at the beginning of the weekend, and my fellow trainees asked the proverbial opener, "how are you?" I honestly answered with... "I'm feeling an equanimity I've never quite felt before. Highs and lows, but I'm just rolling with it."

On Monday, June 21st, while sitting in an Internet Cafe in Venice, after being WiFi-less for so many days, I logged in and began my usual work routine, updating, writing, crafting, sending, doing, clearing... preparing for the workload I had on my plate.

But .... things weren't as they seemed moments before. Some bad news, a surprise lost client, some more bad news.... a dark cloud was growing on my computer screen. All this stuff was coming at once. My phone was blowing up, my texts screen bleeping, my emails parading in... all with different shades of bad I had no control over.

I sat there, far from home, very far from home, scrambling while sipping a $4 Organic Hibiscus Mango Ginger Iced Tea I suddenly couldn't afford. How the fuck was I going to get home? And would my EZ Pass go through when I try to get my car out of the JFK Lot. Will I have enough for gas to get home? And when I get home, can we eat?

FRACK!

I scrambled, updating my resume and posting ads on CL for jobs cleaning houses, painting houses, babysitting and spanking men for money. Anything I could think of that I could do, phone sex, laundry, admin assistant. Panicking in this state, trying to be mindful. Over and over I kept saying, "Just for today, you're in an Internet Cafe with an overpriced Iced Tea and you're alive and breathing."

I made it home. My car did start. My car got out of the lot. I got my son. I drove upstate. I didn't pass go or collect $200.

Zman went to school the next morning and I opened up Craigslist Help Wanted Ads... and then I found an ad that surprised me. It was an ad for an Admin Asst at Catskill Animal Sanctuary. I figured, if I did any kind of work for a nice non-profit, I would be blessed, and lucky. Right livelyhood. I looked at the ad, with a feeling like, this would be nice. This would be so much better than doing sales for Cumulus. So, I sent my resume, with a nice note and took a chance.

The next day ... I found out... they wanted me, and the day after that it was for a job they hadn't posted yet. They needed me, and I really really needed them.

I had this feeling, that this was where I needed to go, and where I need to be.

On my second day working on the Farm, I got to meet a herd of 21 newly rescued goats. I'd never met so many goats at once, in fact how many goats have I really met anyway? As we went in, treats in hand, it was fun to feed them and meet them. They were gentle loving and friendly.

One in particular stole my heart. His name is Atlas. He's 'broken', yes, crippled for life due to improper care and neglect. He laid in pain on the ground as two women gently held him and nurtured him. The Vet came to make an effort to relieve him of his pain, and his outlook seemed not very optimistic. The collaborative goal by all was to love him and give him the most comfortable life he can have.

I took photos and shot videos. I was nervous, and shy. Then, in an effort to keep the herd away from Atlas during his doctor visit, I lured the other goats away with some goat food. Now I don't know anything about goats. They have cute floppy ears, seem pretty docile and don't mind when you pet them. As they gathered around me, scarfing up food out of my hands, the biggest greediest fellow Arthur bit and ate the mala beads right off my wrist.

I giggled and laughed, "the Goats ate my Mala Beads!"

To wit, Abbie the Animal Care Director responded, "Yeah, that's Goats for you."

Silly city girl I am, in my skirt and adornments, what was I thinking? That's right, I don't know what I'm doing, and I certainly didn't know anything about what hungry little cuties the goats are.

I guess these newly rescued four-legged friends needed a little enlightenment. My service to them, Naaaaaaaahmaste Goats! (sheepish, I know** thank you Chris Bick for this one)

I visit Atlas in his stall in the barn pretty regularly. The other day, I actually saw Atlas standing, taking steps, and moving around his stall. He smiles when I see him, and nuzzles for love. Yeah, I'm falling for the goats. Who knew that this city chick could feel such affection for a creature who seemed so alien to her 10 days ago. But here I am, falling in love with goats. I'm learning what loving creatures they are, that they have emotions and feelings and like us... even when they are suffering, they can smile when they are loved.

Emotionally, I'm far from out of the woods. I still have a lot of stuff that came up last month to tend to, and fear about being able to tackle it all. I've been humbled by the humans and the animals in my life, big and small, two and four legged. I am experiencing a new growth spurt emotionally, and am afraid and excited to get to go through it at the farm.

The equanimity I was able to live in just a month ago, seems impossible to grasp at again. How was I able to maintain that Buddha like chillness for months and months, and lose it so quickly in an avalanche of new reasons to suffer. My spiritual journey is in its infancy. I must remind myself of this over and over.

Everything is impermanent. EVERYTHING. This knowledge is freeing and crippling. But like Atlas, I too can be open to love, and allow others to help me heal. This new adventure is going to teach me something new, and is demanding that I learn to soften in work in the same way I've learned to be gentle and compassionate in my life. If I am to extend the journey, I will need to be about Metta, and be in a place of love for all living beings and walk the spiritual walk at work. I may not end up perfect, but I can end up in a much better place than where I was before when I began the journey.