Lost in Translation- My Induction Into the Dead Poets Society

IMG_0650I have so many half written ideas, parts of essays, chapters, and poems floating around in Word, it looks like a spare parts yard where nice words go to find their mates. Maybe it’s a bit of a mirror representation of the state of my mind most of the time, as long as we are confessing over Sunday morning coffee. My documents have become a jumbled mess of sentiment, awaiting a clear and focused mind who can sort through and make sense of it all. I’m still searching for some way to ensure that nothing gets lost in translation.

But when you are easily distracted and trying to write a book– it’s sometimes hard to know what direction to go.

This morning, the poets and sages of yesteryear were reminding me of where my passion has been hiding. It isn’t where it used to be. I think I must have left it in the tree house in the backyard when I was 9.

Leonard Cohen said,

“Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. “

Well apparently it’s something you can smoke.

Dammit, Leonard Cohen, why didn’t I know this when I was perched up in my tree house looking for some way to be a farm girl version of a West Village beatnik poet in a cool hat, life burning to ash between my fumbling fingers? Continue reading “Lost in Translation- My Induction Into the Dead Poets Society”

Ruptured

IMG_9281Aht-lo-le-Vahd

את לא לבד

You are not alone.

It’s the Hebrew phrase that kept ringing through my ear where I attended my first Jennifer Pastiloff Manifestation Yoga retreat over Labor Day weekend in the oasis of Ojai Valley, California.
It was a weekend packed full of that which we later dubbed “The Jen Pastiloff Experience”. Complete with all sorts of awesomeness: karaoke yoga, delicious love-filled food, surprise soul-stirring live music, insightful writing, new friends that felt like childhood besties, epiphanies, life-altering conversation, heart-wrenching stories of love and loss, poetry, natural wonders, a little wine, deep talks around the pool about diamonds and time transport of the Whovian persuasion,  and a midnight swim or two under the brightest stars I’ve ever seen (not to mention a handful of shooting stragglers from the end of the Perseid meteor shower that peaked a few weeks ago– which for geeks like me is heaven)
I could go on all day attempting to describe what we did there and still not capture all that was the magical time we spent in Ojai. You know how words so often fail where the heart is concerned.
Oh, yes, the heart.
I found mine pounding at the thought of facing my fears –the biggest of which was the fear that I would somehow find myself alone amongst all these people. Virtual strangers.

Continue reading “Ruptured”