I am going to be a grandma! Which is probably one of the most wonderful things ever. And more than that, I am going to be a grandma twice! Two of my three children are having babies—three weeks and five days apart to be exact. Well, if they come when they say they are coming. They meaning the ultrasound and OB/GYN people. The they that are these perfect beings that are soon to be babies, they will come when they want to come and so I have been sending out loving and grandma like messages to them asking them to maybe work together and come far enough a part that I can get across the country from one to the other when their sweet breath and small hands and full hearts enter our world. I am thinking they are probably not listening to me. They are too busy growing and making their lungs strong and their kidneys healthy and tapping into their mommy's and their daddy's voices and love.
So this grandma person that I am now. That moment when I heard, when I learned that I was becoming this, that I was moving into this new place that I would inhabit and my heart filled with joy, grief came along too. It sat quietly but certainly let me know it was there. Tender actually in it's presence and it's knowing and I let it linger for a bit and then got down to business.
Grief when you are becoming a grandmother I googled. And what came up over and over again was "grieving because I will never be a grandmother" and "helping a grandparent who is grieving." Google did not understand my question and no matter how much I changed my words and rearranged my thoughts the information about this was the same.
This was much the same way when my son got married. I went a 'googling to see if I could find words to capture the strong feelings that arose from deep within my core. But there was nothing. So I wrote about it here. The fullness and joy of my boy and this beautiful woman who I just loved since she was seventeen getting married! And along with this, the deep sadness and loss. And grief.
I wrote back then there is wonder in this. And joy. And sadness too. But a good sadness. More an honoring of the passing of time and the change that is taking place in his life. And in my life, too.
And I wrote that I could not quite get what it all meant. And so, to learn this lesson fully, the universe gifted me more experiences to illuminate this message so that I would understand.
It was not a loss of my son, it was a loss of my self. A loss of who I was in that instant before and those moments before that. For when we step forward into the new place that fills us up and awakens the joy in our hearts and our souls, we step away from the place we were before. Every time.
There is loss in transition. And there is grief in loss.
I do not think this is talked about much when the grief settles in on those times where the world sees only joy. But really every moment forward is a loss of what is now past us. Every stone we step on as we move in our journey down river means we have left our wet footprint behind and can no longer see those flowers that grow along that part of the riverbank. We leave behind everything we love every day even as we love these things again when we awake.
And so these babies. These miraculous gifts of life that are coming forth into this world through my babies. This is spectacular. And now I know the lesson they are bringing with them. I can just now start to see them down river, they are waiting after the bend that will then block my view if I look back upstream. They are small and sweet and will define this new place that I am moving towards as I settle more deeply into my own life. They are the physical manifestation of the movement of life. And they will embody this transition fully.
Sometimes a writing comes along that touches that inner spirit, soul-journeying, power place and you say, ah, yes. These are words that sit with me. This is such a writing. Written by Deva Temple.
When you realize that this is your last lifetime, you suddenly find beauty in strip malls and you pay more attention to the way dried grass blows with a subtle breeze. You notice the solidity of a hug and the way dust is time's messenger. You tremble and release, tremble and release... You practice the jump into infinity. You weep for every reason. You meet joy and sorrow, love and grief, with utter equanimity, welcoming all as dear, old, sacred friends. You watch how smoke goes up into an empty sky and you recognize the mirror. You know that living your truth until the very last second is worth every possible price. You know that time is precious. You will never come this way again. You will not wait in line at the grocery store, wondering what the person in front of you is thinking. You will not be held up in traffic or make love or turn pebbles about in your hand or pluck at the grass or listen to the waves. You will not sing your favorite song. You will not drink beer or hold an asana. You will not laugh nor will you cry. Your story, your entire story, not just this story of you in this particular body at this particular time, but every story, every body, your entire transmigrational tale, it is going to disappear. You know this. You prepare yourself to be Nothing. You know yourself to be Everything. One by one, you let go of each thing: your family, your desire for money, the quest for power, old journals, clothes, beauty, youth, the yearning for life... You give up making love. Your body changes but you don't care. You stop caring if other people care. You give up fame. You give up striving. You give up all attachments. A fire comes and burns it all down and you stand there, open armed, open eyed, open hearted, and watch it burn, a sacrifice, your life, your being, an altar. You watch the smoke merge into the naked emptiness above. You recognize the mirror.
When you realize that this is your last lifetime you start to gaze at your beloved a little longer. You notice the way light reflects off his eyes, the depth of color, the tiny imperfections of the iris which make his windows so perfectly unique. You notice the souls all around you, making their way in bodies light or heavy, burdened or carefree. You notice their fear, their "I don't think I'm good enough," and you know that they are. You see the beauty of God in the old man sitting in front of you on the bus, how the sunlight illuminates his thin skin, how his liver spots tell a story of his unfolding journey. You fall in love with the heavy woman in front of you in line at Walmart. You see how Divinity hides in the movement of her flesh, so alike water. You forgive the rapist and the murderer. You hope that the truth you leave behind helps all of you on your journeys home. You know that we are in this together. You know that there is nothing "out there." You know that there is only One of us here. You open your body. You meet your fate: the pain, the love, the loss, the beauty, the horror, the surprise and the knowing... Arms outstretched, heart forward, you rise up like the mist, like sunlight, like the scent of hyacinth in the springtime, like a child's first cry. You escape. You dissipate. You expand. You release. You surrender. You pass through. You do not stop to admire the brilliance. You do not look back. You do not cling. You do not ask "what if..." You merge into the Emptiness. The all-knowing Void of Conscious Love. The singularity of time. You recognize This as your deepest Self, your most familiar Home. Origin. Source. Being. Truth. God. The Ineffable Infinite. Great Mystery... You hold this knowing without attachment, without regret, without longing, without doubt, without thought. You become utter Stillness. Empty-Full. Full Circle... Complete.
We did the family bed thing. For like years. And a friend once asked me—way, way back—if this was just the way it is...and what did I do if my kids said they wanted to sleep in their own bed? Well, I said, I tell them no, because this is about my needs. She was shocked. And I was shocked that she thought I was serious. Because this, this family bed thing, that's not what it's about. It's not about me. And it's not about this we-are-doing-this-one-thing-exactly-this-way thing. It's about comfort and reliability and connection. And it's about respect and growth and maturity. And about being independent while being interdependent and recognizing that both exist at the same time. It's about knowing that it's safe so that you can sleep anywhere because you know that you can sleep right here when you need that. This is what family bed is.
It's child led. And so it ebbs and flows and changes, sometimes in the same night. And it makes a good night's sleep complicated sometimes but makes every night's sleep a good sleep because your baby is safe and your child is close, whether they are in their own room or yours.
To make this work for us—my husband and I—we got double size beds in all our kid's rooms. When they went from the crib to a bed it was not a kid bed or a training bed or a twin-it-just-fits-one bed. It was a true double that two adults could sleep in comfortably bed. Because we knew that we would be in it a lot. In each bed. Either together—as in me and him—or with one or more of our kids, possibly not with the child who's room the bed was in. And of course with an assortment of cats and dogs, too.
Our nights were busy. Sometimes our children fell asleep in our bed. Sometimes they fell asleep in their bed and made it to our bed in the night. Sometimes one was in our bed and two were in another bed. When all three were in our bed we went to another bed. There was a lot going on.
There were those moments when I would hear a child cry out or reach out or call out and I would jump from a bed and run into the hall to have to stand still for a moment and remember what bed I just left to know what bed to go to to find the child that needed a hug or a hold or a soothing night voice. And there were those moments where my husband and I, we spent the night alone in our bed with each child in their bed and I would wake in the night for just a moment to listen to the quiet of breath through the house.
And it was all good. The busyness of it and the calmness of it. The moving from place to place and the comfort of being in one space altogether.
We did this for years. We did this until they didn't do this anymore. Even when they still did. When my son came home from college one year and I woke in the night to find him asleep on the daybed next to my bed. When my daughter stays over and lays in my bed because a mommy's bed is always the most comfortable even when it's not. We do this even when we don't do this—back then and now—because what this is, this family bed thing, it is that we are here. Whether when they were little and we held them close in sweet deep sleep or now when they know that we will always be just a bedroom away even if we are many states away. We are here. We will always be here. That is what this is all about. Always.
FROM THE FIRE: Ojai Reflects on the Thomas Fire. www.fromthefirebook.com.
I'm creating this book. With a friend of mine. We are new friends. I believe I have written about this book before and so you may already know this. We met on Facebook because we both wanted to create a book about the Thomas Fire. We have combined forces and are creating this most incredible anthology of our town's experience in what is the largest wild fire in California history.
We are finishing up the submission stage of this book. In truth, this stage was supposed to be finished in March. That was our deadline. Then May. Then June. And now, now. But this time is the real time. It is a hard stop.
And I am heading to Oregon next week to layout this book with all it's photographs and poetry, and reflection. And the interviews. We interviewed over 40 community members about their experience with this fire. And so we have this comprehensive fire story told from all these different angles - we know this fire.
And so, because I am so in this, this creating of this book I am feeling a bit stressed. As in really stressed. And this is really what this writing today is about.
First off I want to say that the fan on the Mac is running very fast and so I can hear it. This is new. It started to happen with I downloaded Chrome on this computer and then added theses two extensions because I wanted to back up my google drive to my dropbox. And then I freaked out because I am worried when I deal with technology. And so I ended up not doing that. And then the fan started. So I googled that and it said it may be because of Chrome which is what I was thinking since it never did this before this. So... I dumped Chrome in the trash and then dumped the trash. But here is my question... if I dump Chrome, so that it is off my computer, are the extensions off my computer, too? Since they are Chrome extensions. If someone knows the answer to this please let me know.
Even before this happened today I had a challenging day because I ran my car into a metal gate. This was an accident. I was going up to this beautiful spot in Ojai to interview this lovely man about his experience with the Thomas Fire and I went through the gate and misjudged the opening and scraped the passenger side of my car against the metal. Fuck. This is not a little scrape. This is an I bent the gate and dented my car and now the passenger door will not open kind of scrape. Uggghhh.
So that was that today, too.
And I am hungry. I am taking this breath text thing to see if I have "Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth" and so I could not eat anything but like plain chicken and rice. And black coffee. And then I need twelve hours with no food and then I breathe into a bag like a dozen times in different twenty minute intervals and send it off in a Fedex bag and voila - bacteria will show up or not. I think.
And not only am I hungry because of this I am stressed, too. Because I do not quite know how to administer this test and my lack of focus and ability to keep my attention to understanding instructions is preventing me from figuring it out at this time. It's an ADD thing that I have even though I do not have ADD. More, as my kids always said, I have the attention span of a squirrel. Which may be ADD. I don't have the focus to go figure that out either.
And so, this fire book. It's going to be quite amazing and most of the time I am loving creating it. And proud of it. And moved by it. And so grateful that so many people are open and sharing and supportive and excited about being a part of this book. It will be beautiful.
This is one of the few pictures of me and my sisters from our week away in Nantucket. When I first looked at it I didn't realize that my brother-in-law was lurking in the background and photo bombed my shot. But there he is. So this is a sisters with a brother-in-law pic. And is the best pic of the three of us from this trip.
The first attempt at a photo of the three sisters looked like this:
Selfies are not my skillset obviously. But still I do love this shot. It makes me laugh.
So does this one:
This is my younger sister and I seeing how I look with her hair. This is the kind of thing we do when we are together. This is why we laugh a lot. My older sister did not participate in this moment but I was able to catch her in another, equally funny moment.
Why, you may ask is my sister lying face down on the floor with her arms on a bunch of books? It is part of a menu of positions the my son is having her do to heal back pain. I actually have this same position in my group of positions, too. It is amazing how something so simple can work so well. You can learn more about it here.
I was thinking, when I started this piece today, that I would write about all the lovely parts of being sisters with my sisters. And then I went through the few photos I have and realized that short and sweet today is the way it should be. A few photos, because I did not take many. And a few words. And a lot of love. Because that is the best sister thing at all.
We are away as a family. It is a family tradition to go away. My dad is awesome about this, he takes us to places like Mexico and St. Thomas. Us means us, as in himself and my mom and the three of us sisters and our husbands and - until this current trip - all of our children. That is a lot of us's of us.
This time it is an adult us only trip even though half of our children are adults - perhaps more adult adults than some of us are quite often. This adult trip was an idea that came up around my parent's butcher block table in their kitchen last fall. We were talking about what should be our family trip and came up with the idea to have it just be us (see above).
Explaining where we are is an integral part of this writing because I am not writing this writing alone but instead with my sister -except I started without her - who I have written other writings with already. We've written about our dad, and about being happy together and about perspective. And today we are writing about adaptogens - but more specifically adapting to the current place that we are in, in our lives right now. Because when you start to need adaptogens you might also need adapta-jeans - a newly coined phrase for jeans that expand and mold to our ever changing bodily needs on any given day, (which are different than stretch jeans or maternity jeans.
An adaptogen is defined as "a natural substance considered to help the body adapt to stress and to exert a normalizing effect upon bodily processes." The operative words in this definition are the "bodily processes" because we started this writing because my sister went into the coffee shop and they were selling adaptogens and instead she bought a muffin. Actually this is not true, she bought a protein ball and a latte but she wanted the muffin because we're really talking about hot flashes.
Actually, we are not talking about hot flashes, we are talking about when our bodies change and how we navigate that in the best ways we know how. So while hot flashes are a part of this, it is more than this. It is our skin getting soft and thin and our hair changing color and texture. It is about the weight of our selves and the weight in our minds and our hearts when we look at ourselves and don't look like ourselves.
Looking outside ourselves for something to help us adapt to where we are at, while we are at where we are as we write this together, sounds so appealing. For example, taking adaptogens, or wearing adapt-jeans. But what we know - even when we don't want to know this because looking for a quicker fix is a lot easier than this other process - what we know is that looking within is really where the process starts.
Being aware of what we need means being aware of what we don't need. That sometimes we need to eat the muffin and sometimes we need to take the adaptogen. The problem is that we are so inundated with messaging from outside of ourselves telling us what to do to be ok inside of ourselves that we forget to look within and listen to what we know about our selves.
Looking within to recalibrate where we are. It is an examining of the flow of information through observation and is it the being able to distinguish the information we observe - to separate it into those things that truly sit with us and those things we can toss away. In other words, knowing what we need and knowing when we need nothing at all.
Now, about that muffin, we are going to go to this amazing donut shop at some point this week while we are here on this island.
This writing is about balance. But the word symmetry is what appeared when I started to write.
And so I searched for the definition of the word. Symmetry. Words like exact or correct appeared. Synonyms for symmetry (now that feels symmetrical ) are uniformity and consistency. I certainly can't tell the makers of definitions - who does this for a living anyway? - that they have not truly captured the meaning of this word. Still, for me, they have not captured the essence of this word. Because in all these definitions there is never any mention of the word balance.
However, if you ask google - god is google smart - whether symmetry means balance, you get a bit more information. You get symmetrical balance - the balance that is achieved when arranging elements on each side of a composition so that they are equally weighted.
I like this better.
Symmetry, to me, means balance (definition writers be damned). And these things that are in balance, they do not have to be the same or even similar, they just have to feel in harmony in that way where it sits just right. Where the pull is not more to one side than the other. Where the air flows freely around each part - whether it's a plant or a dress or a thought or a relationship or a dog and a cat.
We know when things are not in balance. We feel this with everything around us. When we fix that picture on the wall that is just that tiny bit lower on one corner - OCD be damned - or stand some books back up on a shelf because the way they fell over makes the whole room feel off kilter.
And we know when things are out of balance in the way we interact with others. When we have a conversation and the flow is one-sided, the interaction not even in the exchange of information. But more. When we walk away from our time with another, feeling spent rather that rejuvenated because the exchange of energy between us is not weighted, one side like the other.
And we know when there is a lack of symmetry within our selves. When we wake in the morning and things are just off. We can't always put our finger on what exactly it may be, but something does not line up, the yin yang, push and pull, ebb and flow of our inner being is warped. Our pieces are not in harmony. And we know we are out of balance.
It is easy to fix the photo on the wall or hem the dress that is too long. But when it is the exchange that we have with others and most certainly the relationship that we have with our selves, things get a bit trickier. And what is interesting is that we look to those relationships first, to try and rebalance the outward manifestations of our being - the relationships that we have with others - when really it is the balance we are searching for within our selves that puts us in harmony.
I think I have the balance within myself. Sometimes I do. When I am out with my dog and the morning is fresh and light and quiet and I see two deer run by effortlessly or the fog hangs low and my footsteps make that lovely crunching sound as I walk over the stone and dirt of the road that I live on. Then I am in balance.
Or when I am making a piece of jewelry or sewing a dress or shirt or painting something - most likely flowers - on a pair of sneakers or my dog's collar and I am thinking of nothing other than what I am focused on in that moment. Then I am in balance.
When I sit in the shower and the water flows warm I am in balance.
When I dance I am in balance. But only when I get out of my head and the movements come from that place of total expression and wonder and joy. Then I am in balance.
When I am in mother I am in balance. But not yet now that I am also in crone.
When I nourish my body with foods that flow with the Qi of my body I am in balance.
When I write I am in balance. And when I edit what other's write I am in balance, too.
I look at the commonality of this, of all these things that put me in harmony within myself. And this is what I see. When we can truly sit in that space of the exact moment where we are, the alignment of who we are is able to come through. And balance comes forth. In symmetry. Whatever it is that means.
Two Egos Got Together And Had A Baby They Named Codependency.
I don’t usually quote outside sources. But I am going to here, because this is good. This is fucking brilliant.
Eckhart Tolle writes: What is conventionally called “love” is an ego strategy to avoid surrender. You are looking to someone to give you that which can only come to you in the state of surrender. The ego uses that person as a substitute to avoid having to surrender. The Spanish language is the most honest in this respect. It uses the same verb, te quiero, for “I love you” and “I want you.” To the ego, loving and wanting are the same, whereas true love has no wanting in it, no desire to possess or for your partner to change. The ego singles someone out and makes them special. It uses that person to cover up the constant underlying feeling of discontent, of “not enough,” of anger and hate, which are closely related. These are facets of an underlying deep seated feeling in human beings that is inseparable from the egoic state.
When the ego singles something out and says “I love” this or that, it’s an unconscious attempt to cover up or remove the deep-seated feelings that always accompany the ego: the discontent, the unhappiness, the sense of insufficiency that is so familiar. For a little while, the illusion actually works. Then inevitably, at some point, the person you singled out, or made special in your eyes, fails to function as a cover up for your pain, hate, discontent or unhappiness which all have their origin in that sense of insufficiency and incompleteness. Then, out comes the feeling that was covered up, and it gets projected onto the person that had been singled out and made special - who you thought would ultimately “save you.” Suddenly love turns to hate. The ego doesn’t realize that the hatred is a projection of the universal pain that you feel inside. The ego believes that this person is causing the pain. It doesn’t realize that the pain is the universal feeling of not being connected with the deeper level of your being - not being at one with yourself.
The object of love is interchangeable, as interchangeable as the object of egoic wanting. Some people go through many relationships. They fall in love and out of love many times. They love a person for a while until it doesn’t work anymore, because no person can permanently cover up that pain.
Pretty amazing stuff, right!?
So, a bit ago I read a writing on codependency. And as I read this all I kept thinking about was that this writing was speaking to our ego. And though I couldn’t get my hands around exactly what I wanted to say, I knew I wanted to write about this, too.
And so I did a bit of googling: Codependency and the ego. Ego and addiction. Love and codependency. And I also went to my go-to authors: Elizabeth Lessor, Eckhart Tolle (so lovingly quoted above). And to my own writing: Own Your Shit.
And finally what I wanted to say started to come together. But it is complicated. There are a lot of layers here. Plus there is a language conflict going on because the negative words of codependency are the positive language of many relationships.
Just look at the words we use to describe our relationships. Language that implies dependency to such an extent that – if we were just to look at the language that we use – it would be easy to judge even the healthiest relationships as living soundly and squarely into the center of the codependent bucket. He is mine. She owns me. I could not live a day without Him. I miss Him all the time. She craves me. I am his drug. Her addiction. His lifeline.
Words of endearment or words of concern? And then I got it. An epiphany. That aha moment when it all becomes clear. You see, it truly depends on where these words first form.
Because I believe that when these complicated words that I list above stem from our minds, well, we are in for a bit of a problem. But when we love each other with our hearts, these concerning words become what we mean them to be – words of endearment. So our goal – what we all truly strive for – is to live in our hearts as we live in each other’s world. Our egos, yes they raise their stormy little heads from time to time, but hopefully we recognize this and so they are not usually involved.
When we say that we want to be in relationships with people who fulfill us, that does not mean they are supposed to fill us up. This is the distinction. This is where codependency roots. Right here, in our empty spaces.
And as we suck each other into our empty spaces, we begin to feel responsible for each other’s happiness, which isn't fair and creates so much pressure between ourselves and those we are in relationships with. This toxic pressure, it goes both ways – from me to you and back again. This need, it is deep within us. In fact, it is not really about each other at all. This toxic pressure, it is internal.
And it is ready to explode.
Eckhart Tolle writes: Love is a state of Being. Your love is not outside; it is deep within you. You can never lose it, and it cannot leave you. It is not dependent on some other body, some external form.
But we think it is. Or rather, our ego thinks it is. That this love, it will go away. That we can lose it. That it is fleeting. And so fear appears and settles in and coats us with fog. And when we cannot see clearly is when our ego thrives. Thank goodness, she says. It is my turn now. And she grabs onto someone and convinces us that we need them. More and more of them and that we have to pin them down and we suffocate them so they cannot escape. But they do. Every time. Because they are outside ourselves. Because it is not real.
In my piece, Own Your Shit, I wrote: It is no one’s responsibility to make another person happy. Or to fill up their empty spaces. Yes, I love my kids and they fill me with joy. And my husband is a wonderful man. And I have deep, good friends and a very full, really lovely life. And yes, I am happy in these relationships that I have. But being happy is the blessing, not the purpose, of these relationships. And my responsibility to these relationships is to take care of them. By practicing self-care. And practicing self-love. By not needing input from others but rather meeting others in my life as a full, complete, person. Again, not easy. But I have learned to feel the difference – when I am engaging because I want to give to a relationship and when I am engaging because I am looking to get something from it. The latter does not feel good at all.
Eckhart Tolle says it like this: Only surrender can give you what you were looking for in the object of your love. The ego says surrender is not necessary because I love this person. It’s an unconscious process of course. The moment you accept completely what is, something inside you emerges that had been covered up by egoic wanting. It is an innate, indwelling peace, stillness, aliveness. It is the unconditioned, who you are in your essence. It is what you had been looking for in the love object. It is yourself.
Here is what I love best about this photograph, besides the fact that this is a friggin' awesome suede jacket. I love that you can see both my husband and my daughter taking my pic. And so, when I take all the photos that were taken of me in this jacket I also have all these images of the photo takers, too.
Now, about this jacket. It is suede, as I said above. And was not what I was planning to purchase on this day, which was yesterday. I was planning to purchase a big and warm and possibly fake fur coat to wear at Burning Man. Which I am going to this year. With this same daughter who's leg is reflected in the mirror to the left of me above.
We went into LA yesterday to this great outdoor flea market on Melrose. We went to go coat hunting. She got two coats. I got none. My plan is to likely wear one of her coats, the one she won't be wearing as she cannot wear both at the same time. The coat problem is solved. And I got to buy this jacket.
Plus, I have this amazing, actual fur but it's ok because it was my grandmother-in-law's fur not a new fur. It is a fur jacket. And I will bring it along for warmth as well.
So Burning Man. This is my first time going. Though I have thought about going for a few years now. I want to experience this experience. The art and the desert and the people and the fire. And I am going with this photo taking daughter which, in of itself, is quite amazing.
I am drawn to this Burning Man experience,though I am worried about this, too.
It is a long week when I find that most times being away for 4-5 days is really the best length of time for me. And so, between the driving up and the driving down and the time there, we are really looking at 8 days. And so the worry of overload when I know that my alone time that is the quiet time that is so precious to me will not be easily gotten, well I am overwhelmed now just thinking about it and Burning Man is still a ways away.
I know that the beauty of the experience will also live in the challenge of the experience and that my anticipation that is more like worry is really part of the going to Burning Man, also. That the going has really already started. And, as I have been told that you really cannot control what happens on the Playa, I need to start to let this go, now. And flow through to Burning Man.
Kinda like I did yesterday when I gave up the agenda of finding a coat and then walked into a jacket instead.
Every now and then a book comes along that is so beautiful in language and imagery that you find yourself slowing down over words and sentences to savor the rhythm and tone that runs across the page. Such is the case with The Morning Light never passes us by.
Brian Lisus is a first time author, but he is certainly not a first time artist. He decided to write this incredible novel after hearing an audio book and immediately visualizing his own story set against the beautiful classical music that his instruments create. You see, Brian is a violin maker. And he takes his journey into his craft and weaves it within a story about a man on his journey into his life.
I met Brian because he posted a heartfelt writing about his experience with the Thomas Fire - the massive fire that swept through our town back in December. I reached out to him then to ask if we could include his thoughts in a book that I am created with a friend about the Fire and, in our interactions, I shared that I am an editor. And we met. And I edited a few pages for him so we could see if we were a match to work together. And I am so glad that we did. And so honored that I was able to work on the book with him. Because, truly, it is one of the most beautiful books I have read in a very long time.
Please consider reading this book. Go to Amazon and buy the paperback or download the Kindle version. And more, wait a few weeks and buy the audio version as well. For, you see, what this talented man has done is taken his story and surround it with classical pieces played on instruments that he created. He reached out to musicians that have his cellos and violins and violas and he brought these instruments into studios and captured the resonance of his artistry.
This book is special. There is nothing like it out there. It is rare in its story and symbolic in its message and rich with music.
I think you will love it!
Mother, Wife, Friend, Sister, Daughter, Dancer, Dog and Cat lover.