Archive for the ‘Toning the OM’ Category
Baseball Life and Career Lessons
Friday, October 6th, 2023
I love baseball. I am so looking forward to the baseball playoffs. Baseball has been my favorite sport since I was a kid watching the New York Mets play and going to games at Shea Stadium with my dad. The Mets gave me (too) many lessons about life including resiliency and handling disappointment. The game of baseball has provided me with many career and workplace lessons. Celebrate others, cheer on your team, lean on each other and step up to the plate with joy and determination. And, play ball!
Returning to Meditation. Again.
Wednesday, January 25th, 2023
In 2012 I downloaded an app called Insight Timer. I set up a daily timer for about ten minutes to an hour to meditate daily. After using it for a couple of years, I set up my own quiet daily practice of meditation. I forgot about the app and eventually deleted it as I wanted less time being on my phone.
For over 20 years I have facilitated and led meditation retreats and have taught people various meditation practices (hoping to do more of those again soon!).
My daily routine even included getting to my office early so I had time to sit and meditate. I also prefer quiet mornings and easing into my day. I was even able to meditate on the subway!
Then COVID-19 happened. My meditation practice came to a screeching halt. Almost all of my daily or weekly practices stopped. I couldn’t meditate, read, or journal. I gave myself permission to be in this place. Although I didn’t think it would take 2+ years to come out of it.
I discovered that my daily walks became a meditation practice. And the more I walked, the more I noticed everything. I noticed more colors, more trees, more birds, more nature, and more beauty. But something was still missing. I wanted to get back to my meditation—even if it meant starting over with two to five minutes of daily meditation. I downloaded the Insight Timer app again. Sitting quietly, I began to listen to guided meditations. It was as if I never left. My body was able to relax first for brief moments and then eventually for longer periods of time.
Sometimes we need to give ourselves permission to let something go and have it return as something new. When meditation (or any practice) feels like a chore, pausing and waiting for it return in a new way can help. If you’re like me and have wanted to return to a mediation practice, feel free to start over, again.
And if you need support starting a meditation practice or growing your current one, please reach out to me.
Suggestions: for those looking for apps that support meditation, try Insight Timer, Ten Percent Happier, or Calm.
Toning the OM Receives 2021 Best of Bronx Award!
Friday, September 17th, 2021
Toning the OM has been selected as the Winner for the 2021 Best of Bronx Awards in the category of Local Business!
Each year, in and around the Bronx area, the Bronx Award Program chooses only the best local businesses. They focus on companies that have demonstrated their ability to use various marketing methods to grow their business in spite of difficult economic times. The companies chosen exemplify the best of small business; often leading through customer service and community involvement.
For most companies, this recognition is a result of their dedication and efforts as well as the work put into building the business. Toning the OM is now a part of an exclusive group of small businesses that have achieved this selection.
The Bronx Award Program was created to honor and generate public recognition of the achievements and positive contributions of businesses and organizations in and around Bronx. Their mission is to raise the profile of exemplary companies and entrepreneurs among the press, the business community, and the general public.
Thank to everyone who has supported Toning the OM through the years–whether you have attended a workshop, sacred circle, retreat, coaching or meditation session. And am also grateful to everyone that has shown support and love by sharing and promoting Toning the OM and sent encouraging words.
Most of all, am grateful to my parents who taught me the value and meaning of service. All that I do and all that I share is in their memory–as I know they are always watching over me.
Savoring the Light That Seeks Me
Monday, November 2nd, 2020
Each morning, I have a series of rituals. While my morning rituals often include making a pot of coffee and putting on my diffuser, it also includes looking out the window. I look at the trees right outside my apartment and notice the light. I notice the mornings that the sunlight bounces off the trees. I look at the cherry trees, the pines, the maple trees and savor the moments of morning light.
In the afternoons, I take walks in my neighborhood. One of the gifts of working from home is being able to notice all the flowers that have come and gone since March. I do not think I have ever noticed flowers as much as I have this year. As I photograph the various flowers, I often capture the light on the flowers.
As evening sets, I am often at the end of my street, capturing the colors of the sunset. As I pause to look at the sky, the flowers, and the sunset, I realize that I am often seeking light. And then I discover that through it all, it is the light that seeks me.
A Time to Love
Friday, March 13th, 2020
In Ecclesiastes there is a call to plant, to love, to live, to work, and then to enjoy the fruits of all one’s labors. The passage reminds us that there is a time for everything. I went back to Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8 to savor the words:
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
Right now, it feels like we are all of this. And it is a great time to ask ourselves, “What is it time for in this moment?” What are we called to be with ourselves and one another?
There is a time for everything. And I can think about is how this is a time for us to care for those we love. This is a time to be more kind, more compassionate, and more forgiving. This is a time to be generous and loving. This a time to love – more than we ever have before.
Raise the Volume of Love
Thursday, September 18th, 2014
“Do things that light you up with people who light you up for people you love to serve.” ~Jonathan Fields
What happens when you bring 250 people from all around the world together to immerse in inspired learning, to connect on deep levels, and to play like a kid? Magic. Pure magic.
I signed up for the Camp Good Life Project as soon as the invitation came to my inbox and couldn’t wait to experiences of 3+ days of learning bliss with writer, entrepreneur, and venture builder, Jonathan Fields.
Before the Camp Good Life Project this past weekend (known as Camp GLP), I had some life changing experiences. In June, a good friend found out she had a brain tumor. In July, my mother-in-law passed away. And by August, I was running a NYC mentoring program solo. Plus, a foot injury, fatigue, and dizziness slowed down my exercise.
By the time I was ready to leave for Camp GLP in September, I felt worn down, exhausted, and still full of so much grief. I decided that since the camp was only a 90-minute ride from my house, I would still go. So I threw clothes in a bag and packed my journal, flashlight, and my drum in the hopes that a few days away would rejuvenate me.
Upon arrival, I was greeted with big smiles, bubbles, and a warm welcome. I thought, “I can do this. I have no idea what I am doing, but I can do this.” Later I was greeted with big hugs from Stephanie and Jonathan Fields.
The weekend was a chance to reconnect with my love of service, creating community/tribes, and leading heart-centered work in the world. And for 3+ days, I had the chance to immerse myself in ways that would engage my mind and heart like I never did before. There were workshops on time bending, tea-blending, hand-lettering, mindfulness, podcasting, book-binding, visual branding, crowdfunding and so much more. And if that wasn’t enough, there was so much time to PLAY! The camp included a bonfire (with s’mores!), color wars, swimming, rock climbing, wearable art, and a talent show.
By the end of the weekend, I realized it wasn’t really a matter of “doing” anything. I just needed to show up – as is. And whether singing at a bonfire or writing in my journal or crying by the lake, it was perfect. I realized it wasn’t about not knowing what I am doing, but rather it was about being all of me.
Camp GLP was a powerful experience – not just because it gathered beautiful world-shakers and makers together. But Camp GLP was powerful because there was reminder throughout the whole weekend to ask and listen for the power of living a Good Life.
The weekend was a deep experience of what can happen when we gather with intention, inspiration, service, and practices of the heart. It really is life-changing.
As I sat writing and coloring in my visual journal in the Capture the Wow class (with the awesome Cynthia Morris) and the Hand-Lettering class, I kept drawing and writing the words, “Raise the volume of Love.”
As soon as I wrote the words, I relaxed into my beingness realizing I had all I needed for my life, my business, my work and my connection to nature and Spirit. I am (still) learning to integrate my heart-centered work with all the emotions of the heart. And my Good Life Project is becoming more clear – to raise the volume of love.
Camp GLP was more than a weekend or an event. It’s what one of my friends would call “a happening.” It felt like a movement – a stirring towards alignment meeting action.
So, when people asked me what I learned at Summer Camp GLP, I smile, and say:
Raise the Volume of Love!
Big shout out to Jonathan Fields, Stephanie Fields, the Crew, KC, Cynthia Morris, the volunteers, and all the campers at CampGLP! Thank you for raising the volume of love.
The Wardrobe of Grief
Wednesday, August 27th, 2014
As Joan Didion writes in her book, The Year of Magical Thinking, “Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die, but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that immediately follow such an imagined death. We misconstrue the nature of even those few days or weeks. We might expect if the death is sudden to feel shock. We do not expect this shock to be obliterative, dislocating to both body and mind. We might expect that we will be prostrate, inconsolable, crazy with loss. We do not expect to be literally crazy, cool customers who believe their husband is about to return and need his shoes.”
After the recent death of my mother-in-law, the memory of wearing grief returned. My wardrobe of grief is not only the memory of the clothes I wore for the wake and funeral services. The wardrobe is the grief worn the days, weeks, and months after all the services have finished and the return to daily living begins. It is the one not many people see because it is worn on the inside.
The wardrobe of grief is the memories that keep us going when the tears flow down our face. It is the senses that hold the memories. The wardrobe is filled with the recollections of the favorite clothes worn by those who have passed away: My mother’s sweaters. My father-in-law’s boat shoes. My mother-in-law’s well-worn slippers. It’s the inner and outer garments that often carry the memories for those we love.
Didion writes, “Grief is different. Grief has no distance. Grief comes in waves, paroxysms, sudden apprehensions that weaken the knees and blind the eyes and obliterate the dailiness of life. Virtually everyone who has ever experienced grief mentions this phenomenon of waves.” All it takes is a song, a place, or just seeing my mother’s blue bathrobe hanging up, and I am filled with immediate waves of emotion. Fourteen years after my mother’s passing, I still have a closet full of grief.
Grief turns out to be an experience of memories – both painful and joyful. Grief is a uniquely transformative experience and takes us to surprising places and unearths responses we could never imagine, like talking to an American flag, or a candle, or a set of rosary beads.
Over time, the wardrobe changes and new styles are worn. The wardrobe is comforting. And when it no longer serves its purpose, it will go back on the hanger.
Being Here—Being Home
Wednesday, August 7th, 2013
There was a time I was between here and there. Now I find myself between here and here.
I came across the above line in my journal recently and was reminded just how easy it is to move away from the present moment. I have recently removed a lot of “activity” from my schedule and it now has space for walking, watching sunsets, meditating, writing, and sitting. It’s amazing how busy we can convince ourselves to be!
As Thich Nhat Hanh says in his writing, I Have Arrived, I Am Home:
“I have arrived” is our practice. When we breathe in, we take refuge in our in-breath, and we say, “I have arrived.” When we take a step, we take refuge in our step, and we say, “I am home.” This is not a statement to yourself or another person. “I have arrived, I am home” means I have stopped running; I have arrived in the present moment contains life. When I breathe in and take refuge in my in-breath, I touch life deeply. When I take a step and I take refuge entirely in my step, I also touch life deeply, and by doing so I stop running.
Stop running is a very important practice. We have all been running all of our lives. We believe that peace, happiness, and success are present in some other place and time. We don’t know that everything—peace, happiness, and stability—should be looked for in the here and the now. This is the address of life—the intersection of here and now.
Thich Nhat Hanh reminds me of the gift of the present moment. I have stopped running and I have arrived. For me, being here is being home.
Welcome home.
You Are the Beloved – Always.
Friday, June 10th, 2011
Snatam Kaur came to New York City last week as part of her Spirit Voyage kirtan concert series. I arrived early for the concert and waited for her to come on stage. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay for the whole show as I was teaching a shamanic workshop the following day and needed to get up early. The thoughts starting running through my head about not being able to stay for the concert, how late I would get home, and early I had to get up.
My Tribute to Michael Jackson
Wednesday, July 1st, 2009
Michael Jackson - Apollo Theater NYC
I have been watching the television coverage about the life and death of Michael Jackson. I sang my heart out all weekend listening to his songs. I cried when I stood at the memorial at the Apollo Theater. I stood alongside so many people of all ages, races, ethnicities shedding tears, writing on the memorial wall, taking photos, and singing his songs at the top of my lungs. The entire way home, I blasted WKTU and sang “Billy Jean”, “Man in the Mirror”, and “ABC” over and over again.
It is so easy to get caught up in the media circus. I don’t have the time or the patience to separate truth from fiction. All I know is this — I loved his music. His death feels like I lost a piece of my childhood and the innocence of that time of my life. It was life before social media, full-time tabloids, and 24 hours of streaming news. It was a time of adolescence and blaring MTV videos.
I have vivid memories of singing and dancing to Michael Jackson videos in the basement with my sister. There we would be, after finally getting cablevision, and I can still see that brown box with the long wire, playing channel 29, and blasting MTV until we heard the pound on the side of the wall from our parents to “Lower the music!” With his music, I felt like I could sing and dance. I imitated him like so many other young people. From “Beat It” to “Heal the World,” his music has been a part of my life through adolescence into adulthood.
Michael Jackson’s death at the age of 50 evoked great sadness in me. I found myself saying he was too young. I feel this way because I lost my mother at the age of 55 and the anniversary of her death is approaching. The more I thought about it, I realized I was the one putting the age limitations on life. Perhaps people pass in their own time, and while I may miss them and want them to live longer, it is not for me to judge that they were too young to die. People pass at an age that they need to move on — and it is for me to learn how to move on with the lessons and gifts they shared.
Life is a gift. Every day, every sunrise, every breath is a gift. As a friend once told me many years ago that we can toss “the flowers” while the person is alive so they get to hear it.
Michael Jackson was many things to many people and although he was controversial, he was also a brilliant musician, artist, dancer, and influenced music beyond words. I don’t know his whole story, what happened in his childhood, or even what happened the day he died. All I know is that his music inspires me, makes me smile, and move my feet. His lyrics are contagious and powerful. How can we not be inspired by the words, “If we wannna make the world a better place, take a look at yourself, and then make that change.”? Thank you for the music, Michael.
Dedicated to the life and legacy of Michael Jackson. Rest in Peace.
Mary Anne