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Final book simulation

Six years ago I was living in Los Angeles during the darkest time of my life. In an act of desperation, I walked into a yoga studio. That single act changed the entire course of my life. Over the years that followed, the yoga practice proceeded to transform my mind, body, and spirit, on every level. Profound healing occurred. Forces aligned. Synchronicity abounded. Soul brothers and sisters showed up on the same path, and I began to witness powerful transformations occurring all around me. I quickly began to see the undeniable–that yoga changes lives; that yoga has the power to heal so much human pain and suffering; that yoga brings magical connection and serendipity into our lives. I knew this was a message that I needed to spread. I knew that I needed to help others to heal and transform their own lives. I knew this was my mission. And so began a labor of love …

I am so thrilled to announce the publication of The Yoga Diaries. The Yoga Diaries brings together 30 diverse yogis, of all ages and from all walks of life, to share their stories of transformation through yoga: stories of physical and emotional healing; stories of overcoming great adversity; stories of finding one’s true purpose; stories of breathtaking, alchemical soul transformations.

The personal and inspiring stories of the brave yogis within these pages will convince you that yoga is a practice for anyone … for everyone.

Available now on Amazon.

I am immensely proud of and thankful for these brave spiritual warriors for having the courage to share their beautiful stories: B Grace Bullock, Jean Merlen, Gitte Lindgaard, Katherine Girotti, Sara Curry, Barry Hurchalla, Elizabite McGlinchey, Alexander Litvak, Alli Banks, Amber Shumake, Maiga Milbourne, Rachel Wolfe, Bridget Boland, Heather Mitchell Jefferson, Erin Lee, Colleen Millen, Desiree Rumbaugh, Rebecca Butler, Julie Peoples-Clark, Natalia Chaparro, J Brown Yoga, Krissie Penney, Ina Sahaja, Paulina Julián Colin, Nick Montoya, Ashley Herzberger, Candice Garrett, Bridget Lyons, Dagmar Spremberg.

May their stories and their inner light shine out and inspire people all over the world!

And may you be inspired to begin your own journey towards healing …

 

Cover design by Gibran Julian.

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Five years ago today I came to San Francisco for a 1-month sublet, my kitties in tow. I was on the tail end of the darkest depression of my life and my life was stagnating in Los Angeles. I knew I needed to make a change, but I had no idea where it would lead or what I would find in San Francisco. But in the face of fear and doubt, I blindly took the first step. Five days later a job offer had fallen in my lap. Overnight I had to find someone to take over my lease in Los Angeles, find a permanent apartment here in San Francisco, pack up my apartment, and drive the Uhaul, by myself, the six lonely hours up the I-5. I’ll never forget the experience of driving out of Los Angeles. It was 2009 and we were experiencing some of the worst fires in LA history, and they were extremely close to the city. As I drove through Hollywood and up the 101, I could see smoke, ash, and flames on both sides of the freeway. I felt like I was literally driving out of the mouths of Hell. Little did I know, I was actually the Phoenix about to rise from the ashes.

TriangleI started my new life in San Francisco, disillusioned by the weather and really missing my Hollywood Hills and my Mediterranean lifestyle. I found myself in a stressful start-up job, with an environment that gradually became more and more toxic. What was I doing? Where was I going? I had no idea. I came to my mat. I sought out solace in my yoga community. I knew nobody. But I kept coming to my mat. And little by little, month after month, I began to make new friends and build a new community. That job eventually fired me and I stood in one of the most important and pivotal moments of my life. Somewhat accidentally, at this same time, I found myself in the unexpected seat of the writer. I wrote my story of healing through yoga. A floodgate opened. The next thing I knew I had a blog with thousands of followers around the globe. Life was surprising me at every turn. I began writing for several different blogs and making new connections, collaborating with other creative beings all over the world. I was taking major risks. Around the same time I enrolled in a 7-month intensive yoga immersion. My yoga practice deepened to levels I never could have imagined and a community of friends formed around me. The most beloved, devoted friends of my life began to step forward, sharing in the journey and supporting me all along the way.

San Francisco has changed me in ways I never dared dream. It has brought magic, synchronicity, and connection – truly unbelievable experiences that continue to inspire and amaze me day in and day out. And then there was a book. For the past three years, I have rejected society’s norms. I have walked to the beat of my own drum, I have followed my heart and I have lived without fear. I have rejected the notion that I have to do anything that is dictated by others. During that time a book formed- a passion project which set out to share the countless inspirational stories of transformation through yoga that I continued to hear left and right. And with it, a mission. My mission: to share the power of the practice; to bring greater peace, love, and healing to the world; to empower people to overcome their darkness and step into the light.

On this five year anniversary of beginning my life in San Francisco, it seems perfectly poignant that I stand at the precipice of publishing The Yoga Diaries. And I look back in absolute astonishment at this incredibly rich, surprising, powerful journey that has unfolded before me – A journey that I created.

There is no amount of gratitude that I could express that would do justice to how thankful I feel; thankful for this magnificent, breathtaking city that has taken me to new heights; thankful for all of the beautiful beings that have crossed my path, become my brothers and sisters, and supported my dreams and my personal growth; a life so rich and full of Grace and love. I am the Phoenix and I have risen.

Phoenix Rising

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San Francisco golden Gate view

Four years ago today, I came to San Francisco for a one-month sublet. Life had proven to be quite hard in Los Angeles, nothing was working out, and I was stagnating…badly. Knowing that I had to make some kind of change, I figured I’d give San Francisco a whirl and see what came…

Five days later, a job offer fell in my lap, out of the blue. The next thing I knew, I was packing up my LA apartment and driving a large U-haul, by myself, up the I-5 to San Francisco. As I made that journey, unsure of what was to come (other than an Operations Management position at a start-up), I could never in my wildest dreams have imagined what would be coming in my future.

Here I was at my second start-up: lots of long hours, nose to the grind, managing a team of people in San Francisco, and eventually overseeing an entire call center in Denver. I was busy, doing the job of two people, and I was on the go all the time. I got promoted in that position, and then shortly thereafter I was tasked with building out a brand new sales division, something I embraced and into which I threw myself headfirst.

But…only a few months later, much to my surprise, I was let go… for the first time in my life. And why you might ask? Because I was “unhappy,” or so that was the reason they gave me. I will never forget that cab ride home, sharing my confounded emotions with my friendly and empathetic Brazilian cab driver.

That day was the end of one chapter, and it was about to be the beginning of another.

Whatever shock and upset I felt, somewhere on a deeper level, I knew that this event was a gift…an opportunity.

And somehow, as if on autopilot, I began writing; something that cascaded seemingly accidentally out of a simple request to share my story of healing through yoga. That story opened a floodgate that I didn’t know existed within me, and in me was revealed a writer with whom I had never before been acquainted.

A serendipitous email invitation to a Hay House (my favorite publisher!) Writers’ Workshop led me to San Diego where I learned how to write a book proposal and build a platform, all the while following my deepest intuition. Before I knew it, I was blogging in English and Spanish, to tens of thousands of people around the world. And to my surprise, they seemed to be listening.

The next thing I knew I had a solid book proposal, the help of an agent, and I was pitching a book about the power of positive thinking to publishers all over the country. Me. The same girl who only months prior had been running a customer service call center in Denver. Me. The same girl who had built out a client service team at a start-up in Washington, DC. Me. The same girl that had planned international student tours in Boston. Me. The same girl who had dropped out of graduate school and hated writing papers all throughout school. I was writing a book! And I had a lot of support.

As I worked to grow my platform, I began blogging for a couple different lifestyle, wellness, and yoga blogs. My audience grew, as did my list of invaluable connections. And then came the initiation of the second book project: The Yoga Diaries. Oh yoga! I haven’t properly mentioned yoga. No story of my life in San Francisco is remotely complete without talking about my beloved practice of yoga.

Those of you who have followed my blog already know that yoga has and continues to change my life radically, ever guiding me into new and mind-blowing adventures and experiences. What started as a practice from a deep place of pain and sorrow in Los Angeles, carried me forth on my healing journey into San Francisco. And now free of a very stressful job, I had more time to devote to my yoga practice. I enrolled in a 7-month intensive yoga immersion, fully intending to take my practice and my understanding of yoga history, principles, and philosophy to an even deeper place.

Triangle

And deeper I went. Over that 7-month period, magic happened. There really are no words with which I can adequately do justice to how profoundly yoga has changed my life and my entire existence. But suffice it to say, through the consistent and dedicated practice, I tapped into a well of calm and peace so deep within me, a profound oasis of joy and bliss. I blasted my heart wide open and my spirit began to expand into the heavens.

I was able to take it all in: the beauty and joy that was around me every single day, the delightful moments that occurred at every turn once I opened my eyes and began seeing them, the love and human connection that was all around me, and within me. I was buzzing with delight and I was seeing the entire world, all of existence, through a completely different lens…a permanent and unshakeable lens.

The Yoga Diaries began to grow. I received more and more wonderfully inspiring stories of healing through yoga, from people of all walks of life, from all over the world. And in no time at all, I realized that I was on a mission, a personal quest to bring greater healing to the masses. I knew that yoga had transformed my own life in breathtaking ways, and from all of the wonderful friends that I was meeting in my yoga immersion, I could also see that yoga had transformed many of my friends in equally sweeping and speechless manners. I knew that yoga had the power to change the world and I knew I needed to spread that message.

Amazing souls began to cross my path, so many deeply spiritual beings, soul brothers and sisters in exploration on this seeking journey. We were all working to help others and change the world in different, yet complementary ways, and we came together to support each other in ways that still astonish and amaze me. One thing led to another and I was introduced to a best-selling yoga author, for whom I began working as a consultant. The connections grew, the Universal support continued to flow, the right person continued to show up at just the right moment.

And all of that culminated in me finishing my second book proposal, this time for The Yoga Diaries. And as if the Universe wanted to show me that it continued to support me, more and more magic began to unfold. I became friends with several published authors (including the best-selling one!), all of whom offered happily to refer me to agents and publishers. I began to simply follow the breadcrumbs and they led me from one door to the next. When one door would close, another window would open and there were more breadcrumbs to follow. And I knew to simply keep trusting…Until eventually my book proposal had personally arrived into the hands of a dozen acquisition editors, among them the head editor at my favorite publishing company; yes the aforementioned Hay House!

As I write this blog, on my lap sits another Hay House book that was personally sent to me by the acquisitions editor at Hay House. And as my bookmark, sits the hand-written note-card from this editor, a truly prized possession which will eventually go into a frame and onto the wall of proud and awe-inspiring moments of my life.

Once I walked through all of the open doors, and my book had safely arrived into all of these capable hands, I knew that my part was done. And from that point on, I released the project into the arms of the Universe and there it presently resides, cradled in the vast unknown.

And as to the outcome, I have let go of it. For I know that I have done all I could do. I know that I put my heart and soul into this project and I know that beyond any book, my main purpose was to spread the word about the healing power of yoga. Earlier this week, I published a truly inspiring story about a 68-year-old man who had overcome a stroke and is now healthy and thriving from his yoga practice. As a result, a 65-year-old stranger reached out to say he was inspired and wanted to begin a yoga practice. In that moment, I knew that it didn’t matter if the book ever got published. That 65-year-old man, and hundreds of others like him, was the outcome. That is my happy ending.

And so in recent weeks, as I’ve begun to move on from the book project, I’ve felt that the writing chapter is coming to a close, at least for the time being. And I’ve felt an internal shift and a readiness to get back to another career. And I can sense deep inside of me that just like the previous chapter that began with me losing my job, that the next new chapter is also about to begin, with the finishing of my book.

As I write this, I’m sitting on a plane flying home from Maine, where I just spent an all-day interview, for a job (here in San Francisco) that I would love to have. And I don’t know if that job will come through or not, but as I look down on the Earth from 30,000 feet, I know that I stand on the precipice of the next great chapter.

I fly home to San Francisco knowing that it truly is home. San Francisco has changed me in ways that were once unfathomable to me. I came to this magnificent city, a little bit lost and very damaged, and somewhat “by accident.” And as I fly back to the Bay, I know that I am whole. I am happy. I have a life and a community that I love, in a city where magic awaits around every turn. I am living more authentically and vibrantly than I have ever lived in my life. I have awakened within me a writer whose voice will never be extinguished, no matter where else my path takes me. And with that new voice and a clear mind, I stand ready, open, and excited for the next chapter…and with it, all of the wild and amazing adventures, and magic, that await.

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DSCN1335Hollywood Forever Cemetery, Los Angeles

It was exactly six years ago today that I drove my trusted little Saturn into the City of Angels, the crimson sun setting behind the mighty palms. It had always been my dream to move to the West Coast, and at this moment in my life, I was spurred on by a fight for love. Sadly I was met with anything but. And so began the darkest years of my life: alone, jobless, and heartbroken in the vast and lonely sea of Los Angeles.

In a moment of desperation, I dragged myself into my neighborhood yoga studio. And that seemingly small decision would forever change the course of my life: it would be my first step into a profound healing journey and the beginnings of a major life transformation, the likes of which I never could have imagined. Yoga led me to Peru. Peru led me to San Francisco and here I discovered a whole new Jeannie and a whole new life: a beloved community, an unexpected and dramatic career turn, a book, so many magical experiences and powerful manifestations. It has been a story that this writer never could have written.

Golden Gate from Buena Vista with AnkitGolden Gate Bridge from Buena Vista Park, San Francisco

For six years, California has been home. In fact, from the moment I arrived here, I felt like I had come home. When my heart was broken, Los Angeles held me in her warm embrace and surrounded me with her Angels. California has taken my breath away with her unrivaled beauty: her brilliant sunshine, her majestic mountains, her pristine ocean. And then there was San Francisco. Oh, San Francisco. With her forward-thinking, progressive, risk-taking mentality, San Francisco has inspired in me a well of limitless possibilities and she has allowed for an energetic expansion beyond all measure. California has cracked my heart wide open and allowed me to connect with the Spirit within and all around me.

On a regular basis, I have stood in awe of her outrageous scenery: spectacular views of the shimmering Bay, the electric view of Los Angeles from the Hollywood Hills, the magnificent Golden Gate Bridge, the snow capping the mighty San Gabriel Mountains, the jaw-dropping vistas from the twists and turns of the Pacific Coast Highway, and the mystical fog cradling the dramatic San Francisco skyline.

California has changed me. She has saved me. She has inspired me. I am forever grateful for this place.

DSCF2697Baker Beach, San Francisco

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I have always loved those moments in life when you find yourself in a time and place that you never in a million years would have imagined. Right now is one of those moments. As I sit on the vast, green lawn, overlooking the lake at Kripalu Center for Yoga & Health, in the beautiful Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts, I am pondering, in amazement, the many dots that had to connect to lead to this moment in time.

It all started in Boston, just about one year ago, when my mother’s boyfriend handed me the Kripalu catalog, knowing that I am an avid practitioner of yoga. Greatly appreciative of his thoughtfulness, I happily took it home with me to San Francisco. After thoroughly browsing through (and drooling over) its offerings, it took up a permanent residence on my coffee table.

Fast forward a few months: In the midst of a job search, I took to my regular practice of meditation, hoping to get clarity on my direction. During what would be one of those rare (but fortuitous) occasions when an insight pops into my awareness, the name “Kripalu” appeared in the forefront of my mind. If there is one thing I’ve learned through my meditation, it’s that when these random “messages” occur, I need to pay attention.

I immediately halted my meditation and pulled out my laptop. I navigated straight to the Kripalu website, where I found a job listing that greatly interested me… this despite my deep down feeling that I really had no desire to move back east, nor  to return to the harsh cold of winter. Listening to my rational mind, I applied for the job anyway.

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Forever being a master networker, I reached out to my network to see who might have a connection for me at Kripalu. As it turned out, a fellow writing friend of mine happened to be friends with one of the foremost yogic scholars, a well-known author and senior teacher at Kripalu. My friend very graciously passed my resume on to this connection. But as fate would have it, the Universe had other plans in store for me. I did not get that job at Kripalu, and I eventually realized that I do belong right where I am, in San Francisco.

But this connection did bear other fruits for me, as I ended up working as a consultant to this well-known yoga author and teacher. Having the great privilege of working with this man, as I learned more about him and read his books, I recognized that this was a person I wanted to know better, and whose great work I wanted to follow and support.

And so here I find myself, breathing in the fresh and fragrant spring air of the Berkshires, having very excitedly journeyed from San Francisco to the wilds of Western Massachusetts, to attend this teacher’s workshop on cultivating the practice of Loving Kindness (Metta).

As part of our meditation practice for the weekend, and in order to take advantage of the spectacular spring weather, he spontaneously changed the day’s agenda and sent us out to the great lawn for some walking meditation- something I did not particularly enjoy doing just a few weeks ago, back home in California. But here, in the brilliant sunshine of Massachusetts’ spring, my feet found themselves unexpectedly in paradise as I slipped off my flip-flops and stepped into the thick, lush grass, warmed by the sun. As I walked amongst the field of dandelions, each blade of grass playfully tickling my toes, I was struck by the fact that I cannot often (if ever) do this in San Francisco.

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In our cool San Francisco climate, it is the exception, rather than the rule, that we get weather that is warm enough for sandals. And even the few wonderful times when it is warm enough (believe me, there is much rejoicing!), the climate of our “Fog City” very often leaves the grass wet and cold- not exactly an inviting environment for your cold little piggies! In that very moment, as my toes sank into the soft, warm grass, it occurred to me that I haven’t walked barefoot in the grass for years!

I was immediately struck by how much people take for granted this simple pleasure. And in that instant, I paused and held such gratitude for my toes being able to experience this heaven beneath my feet. And at the very same time, I was grateful for my life in San Francisco affording me the opportunity for this moment of perspective and profound appreciation.

I continued to move my feet slowly, tuning in closely to the focal points of walking meditation: placing the foot, rolling the foot, lifting the foot, rinse and repeat, all the while being acutely aware of the feeling of my feet touching the Earth. As I did so, the sounds and smells of spring came into my awareness: the freshly cut grass, the bees buzzing around my feet, the soft breeze on my ears… and then there it was- the bird off in the distance singing his “see-saw” song, something that I then realized is an iconically New England sound. We don’t hear that particular bird, with that unique song, in California. Once again I delighted in gratitude for the wonder of Mother Nature and all her diversity.

As I absorbed the see-saw song, I was immediately transported back to the childhood swing-set, swinging by the school yard. That bird, and that song, represent the sounds of my childhood. And then I was flooded with the countless childhood memories of running barefoot through the grass: backyard barbeques, graduation parties, badminton matches, pool parties, camping in my grandparents’ back yard, summer concerts on the common- of all the moments when we unconsciously allowed ourselves to run barefoot in the warm grass, never thinking that there was anything particularly special about it.

And in this very special moment in time, here on the great lawn of Kripalu, during this very unexpected trip, I realized that never again would I take that simple pleasure for granted….and never again would I forget that feeling of heaven beneath my feet.

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My brother and I in front of the USS Constitution in Boston Harbor.

My brother and I in front of the USS Constitution in Boston Harbor.

I come from a family of writers, and today my brother, David Page, expressed perfectly what it is that I and so many other Bostonians are feeling:

I moved to Seattle in June of ’95 and have lived here for most of the past 17 years. I have always maintained that although this great city has become home, Boston is also home. I’m not sure how you can have home in two locations, but it is true nonetheless. The events of this past week, starting with the Boston Marathon and continuing today with the massive manhunt and killing of one of the two terrorists involved, brought forth a surge of pride in me. I am proud of the people of Boston, continuing to show the same strength of spirit they have shown for four hundred years. I love Seattle, but it is not Boston… apples and oranges.

I am from Boston. And the truth is that everyone who is from Boston, regardless of where they move to and where they live, IS and will always be a Bostonian. I am proud of the city of my birth and proud of its indomitable spirit. And my final thought… NO ONE messes with Boston!

~ David A. Page

SAMSUNG

Related Posts: My Heart is in Boston

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Photo by Flickr user: wolfsoul.

Photo by Flickr user: wolfsoul.

As I see it, there is an epidemic occurring in our society; it is an epidemic of people being terrified to be alone and as a result remaining stuck in the wrong relationships. Sadly, I see examples of this around me on a daily basis. And unfortunately I see far more examples of that than of the opposite. Should it be any surprise, then, that 50% of marriages end in divorce? It isn’t to me.

One of the benefits to growing older is that as you experience [and learn] more, and as you observe more, you are [hopefully] much more clearly able to see when a relationship is right…and when it is wrong.

If the 20s were the decade of friends getting married, the 30s have proven to be the decade of friends getting divorced. I think it was around the age of 35 when I noticed that what had once been the “summer wedding season” had instead turned into the “summer divorce season.” And all of the couples that I saw in my 20s and thought to myself “those two are so wrong for each other!”, those couples have in my 30s ended up divorced: almost without fail.

Image by Flickr user: donkeyhotey.

Image by Flickr user: donkeyhotey.

Conversely, I’m sure we’ve all seen the couples that when you look at them, you think to yourself “Yes, that is how love is supposed to look!” and it is just so obvious that the pair are so in love; they show mutual respect, admiration, and affection; and they show it over years, regardless of the passage of time. Such couples reveal such a beautiful, powerful energetic connection, and they complement each other so well, truly embodying the spirit of yin and yang. They are simply a joy and an inspiration to be around. I am grateful that growing up I had a friend whose parents exemplified this for me, even after 25 years of marriage. So even from a young age, I knew what love could look like. And today I am so grateful to have even a small handful of such couples in my life, for they remind me over and over again of the kind of love that I want in my life and why I choose to not settle for any less than that.

And I am by no means under the illusion that a relationship should be easy all the time, nor am I espousing that. I am the first to know that love can be messy and that it takes real work to keep a relationship intact. But what I can say, from experience and from keen observation, is that the right relationship should be much easier than the wrong one. And if the relationship is a constant uphill battle, a constant struggle, then it’s not the right one. We can choose to have something better, more easeful.

Unfortunately, for every one of the couples that exemplify what love can be, I have known twice as many couples who exemplify the opposite of that. I have known the couples who fight all the time and who you just dread to be around. I have known the couples where it’s just so obvious to an outside observer that one of the people is in love, but not the other. I have known the couples where the woman is so desperate to get married and make babies, that she ignores all of the signs that scream that he is not the proverbial “one.” I have known the couples that break up and get back together, over and over again (Oh wait, that was me!). I have known the couples where one partner wants to have kids and the other does not, and they stay together for years, one partner clinging onto hope that the other will change their mind.

I have known the couples that are simply tolerating each other, out of some sort of misguided sense of obligation, rather than showing or feeling anything resembling love. I have known couples where the man only got married because of pressure (or even an ultimatum!) from the woman. I have been in the weddings where you are biting your tongue as the bride walks down the aisle, because you just know with every fiber of your being that they are making a mistake (incidentally I’ve been in three such weddings, and ALL have ended (happily) in divorce). Heck, I have even known multiple couples who themselves admit that they knew it was a mistake, but they walked down the aisle anyway. I have seen people engaged in extramarital affairs and in circumstances that are far too “complicated” to be “right,” people who are clinging to the unhealthiest of situations in a desperate attempt to find happiness.

And when I speak of such couples, I do so with deep empathy and understanding, for I too have lived through my own version of the “wrong” relationship. And I know that these souls are on the same powerful journey of growth and learning on which I reluctantly found myself (that is if they are open to such growth and learning). I spent years with the wrong person, trying to convince myself that it was right. I have always said that one of the cruelest aspects of life is that we have the ability to fall in love with the wrong person. Frankly, it’s brutal and there are few things more painful than star-crossed lovers. And I know how difficult, how painful, and how seemingly “impossible” it can be to extricate ourselves from the wrong relationships; I know all too well how paralyzed we can become, how stuck we can get. I know the feeling of having the constant pit in your stomach and of your head trying to rationalize that it’s caused by something else, when deep down in your heart, you know the real reason but don’t want to admit it.

I have also learned that love is not enough, and that of equal importance are timing and compatibility. You can love someone with every fiber of your being, with every breath of air in your body, but if it’s not right, if they are not the right match for you, it won’t matter. Of this I personally know all too well.

So why is it that so many people stay together for all the wrong reasons? Why are people so afraid to be alone? Fear. Society. Expectations. As I’ve observed people and relationships over the years, it has become clear that so many people are terrified of being alone; terrified of ending up alone, and of dying alone. I once shared this fear, so it is one I relate to and understand well. And as I already said, I understand how it feels to be stuck with the wrong person, and in the wrong relationship, for all of the wrong reasons. I have been there and I am fortunate that my partner had the guts to release me from it, as I’m not sure I ever would have had the courage on my own; for I too was living in fear.

Society tells us that we are meant to follow a very specific formula for life: college, career, love, marriage, and babies… only in that order! We do not even realize how brainwashed we have been as a society. And what society teaches us, our friends and families only reinforce. Everyone has an opinion about what we should be doing. When we see our friends getting married and having kids, we feel even more pressure to be doing the same. If we do not follow that formula, our parents disapprove, people think there is something wrong with us. We all have the aunt who asks, “So when are you going to get married?” There is so much pressure to conform, to fulfill the expectations of society.

I spent the first half of my 30s gripped in sadness and despair, because I too felt that I had to fulfill that formula, and it just wasn’t working out for me. I found myself 32 (and then 33, 34, 35…), single, and childless and that had never been the plan. I should have had three kids by that age. For all of my life I had planned to get married and raise a family. And I am such a passionate, open-hearted woman with so much love to give; how could I not be finding a beautiful soul to complement my heart?

Well, if life has taught me one thing, it’s that the most difficult times are the most valuable and that by walking through each one of them, there are invaluable lessons to learn. I had to walk through an extremely dark time of loneliness, of being completely on my own, for years, before I could come to understand the importance and value of being happy on our own. It was only by walking through my own darkness that I was able to find the light, and in doing so I realized that the light comes from within. The true joy, the absolute bliss is only to be found within us, never outside of us.

And if there’s one universal truth, it’s this: Before you can ever be happy with someone else, you must first be happy with yourself.

And I have not only made full peace with the fact that I am now 38, single, and childless, but I have fully embraced it and the truth is that I have never lived more happily, more vibrantly, more fulfilled. I love my life and there is nothing missing. I now could care less about having children (If you’d told me 10 years ago that I’d be saying that now, I’d have thought you were c-c-c-crazy!) Does this mean I am cynical and do not believe that true love exists? Not at all. I have the gift of having experienced it with my own heart, so I know it’s out there. And if I happen to find it, well great, because that would just be the cherry on top of an already wonderful life. But I know it’s not necessary for my happiness. I know I already am, and will continue to be, happy and fulfilled no matter what comes into my life.

The moment we release the expectation that we can only complete ourselves with another, the moment we can release the idea that we have to adhere to society’s mold, is the moment we find freedom. And in freedom, we can find true happiness.

Photo by Flickr user Chema Escarcega.

Photo by Flickr user Chema Escarcega.

It’s funny, I suspect that many of my friends might pity me for being alone, for not yet having had the “fortune” of getting married and having children. But what they may not realize is that I choose to be single. I could easily have been in relationships over the years, but I knew they would be with the wrong person, and I have no interest in getting myself embroiled in something wrong, when instead I can be keeping myself open for something right.

And I’m happy to say that I have absolutely learned the valuable lesson that it is far better to be single than to be with the wrong person.

So, yes, some people may feel sorry for me that I am alone. But the irony of that is that when I look around me and observe so many unhappy, dissatisfied relationships and I see so many people who are stuck, all I can think to myself is, “Thank God I’m single!”

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