Feminism: Lost or Found

Hi, Boomers,

How many of your remember the feminist movement? Gloria Steinem and the feminist movement are dear to my heart. In fact, I reflect on it almost daily when I teach yoga to those young women two generations removed from my experience of forging for women's rights in the early 1970's. I feel sad that the young university women I encounter do not appreciate or relate to this compelling moment in the history of women.

If any of you female boomers don't recall much of that time (memory fades), check out the HBO documentary on Steinem and the feminist movement. I caught it the other night and was transfixed by it's energy and determination, its love and spirit. What I didn't remember so vividly was how hostile the male gender was during the years of the feminist movement. Nixon said snotty things about the movement; Harry Reasoner said Ms Magazine would last 3 editions; most elected representatives were dismissive. Yet, women of that generation moved seamlessly through the hostility of both men and women. Their cause would not be denied. It was and it wasn't.

We fought for equal rights for women. We tried to pass the 14th amendment to effect the gender adjustment. The journey was really exciting and quite brilliant. Watching Ms Steinem move through her life as an advocate for equal right and equal protection under the law was always and still is inspiring. A mover and a shaker at 75, I couldn't believe Ms Steinem is still on the path to improve the working and social conditions of women. She was radiant as she spoke about the accomplishments women have forged since the 70s. Although women are still behind the wage curve, we've added millions of our gender to the all walks of life, most importantly in business, medicine/health, and education. We still haven't been fully invested into politics as evidenced by our less than impressive numbers in Washington.

I once hit the glass ceiling at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, in the Theater Department and I will never forget what the university president said to me when I brought my complaint of sexism in the workplace to his attention. He said: "I can't help what's going on in that department. They have their reasons. If you want to do anything more in theater, get off campus." And I did and I started Nevada's first year round professional theatre and the professors worked for me.

I feel compelled to pay tribute to a woman and a movement that provoked me to excel in my life, to be the best I could be, to make an impact in my universe. I see Gloria moving and grooving and I still want to emulate her style and her energy.

I look at this generation of college woman and wonder if they have a clue about the influence of the feminist movement on our society. I have had several conversations with young women lately reflecting on the inertia of today's women in terms of their professional staying power. These women seem to lack purpose on where their life is going or even how to get the life they want and deserve. I don't know if they are marking time until the right man comes along and they can start a family. I'm not judging that or labeling that as misdirected because I married very early and had children in my late 20s. But I also believed that if I invested in education, began a career path, trusted the passionate nature of my ife's trajectory that I would gain personal and professional satisfaction and my life would subsequently be richer and fuller.

The belief in a feminist movement does not negate the possibility of falling in love or being in love or marrying and raising a family. The feminist movement was a belief in the power of women to exceed and excel completely and fully in a life's work. Ms Steinem fell in love in her early 70s and married. The tragedy is that it was a very short marriage because the man she loved and married died of a brain tumor in the third year of her marriage. It must have been truly devastating to have fallen in love finally and then to loose that love. Although, I am sure that as with most women who tragically loose a partner and a lover, the recovery is tremendously difficult. I know from personal experience how sad and humbling that can be.

However, Ms Steinem is a woman above all who is immensely knowledgeable and sure of herself, whose beliefs are strong and clear. There is a through line of truth in her life's work and that is what makes her a role model for generations of women who want to create a live of value and productivity. I will tell the group of women that I am speaking to on campus at UCLA the story of Gloria Steinem and hope they are as inspired as I was to have been championed by the feminist movement.

Namaste

Joan

Smile, Please

Hi, Boomers,

Wow! Long time no hear from me. Jeezzz. I must be out of my mind. I must be nuts. I take on a new career as a public speaker and I am consumed by planning, organizing, detailing, and memorizing the speech, working on the website and just getting overwhelmed. I wish the federal government worked as hard making some progress on its inability to make decision and plan for a future in which my sons and grandchildren can receive the full benefits of being an American.

No one smiled in my classes last week. It was really grim. It began with a precipitous fall in the stock market on Monday: down, up, down,up, down, up. It didn't matter that my students weren't invested in the market. No 401k for the students, but surely staff and faculty had some savings for the future. The collective unconscious of the nation is surely in an unhappy and, dare I write, confused state. But our malaise goes deeper than Wall Street.

We used to be able to fix things in the good old U.S. And we used to be able to tell the good guys from the bad guys. We used to be able to count on people who did the right thing. We used to be able to speak from truth and not from hyperbole and outright lies. When did facts become irrelevant? When did learned men become the butt of jokes? When did elected officials ignore voters who say they want those in government to act like grown ups and speak with true authority based on information, on facts, instead of fabricating scenarios that fit their personal beliefs and political ideology.

It's hard to smile while we lose our future. It feels as if the collective unconscious is beginning to actually mourn for a past that seemed to hold more promise than either the present or the future.

I think today I heard something so arrogant and judgmental from Michelle Bachman that for the first time I was put on notice that freedom could be put on trial and now I'm not smiling. Mrs. Bachman, who just won the Iowa straw poll, was questioned on "Meet The Press" by David Gregory about not just her belief that raising the debt was a mistake without thought to what would happened on the globally (she also ridiculed the secretary of the treasury and, of course, President Obama for getting it all wrong - everyone gets it wrong but her), but also about her belief that gays are somehow not really valuable humans; they are rather a sub species who need conversion not just to the heterosexual lifestyle but to her idea of the Christian way of life. It's her way or the highway. If only we could hear God whisper in our ear and tell us what to do we could be on her same page. I wondered if she became president all gays would be isolated in society, maybe interned in lifestyle camps until they mended their ways and turned straight. She actually believes that being gay is a disorder.

She and her husband are scary people. Dr. Bachman's clinic encourages discouraged/ isolated/confused gays to get help for their sexual orientation and become straight, which suggests that they are not good enough the way they are. If she becomes president, don't be surprised if "don't ask, don't tell," which was repealed recently, will return with a vengeance.

Why is there no outrage? Or maybe there is and the anger is internalized. I'm not particularly proud of what our country is doing because it doesn't stand for the values I thought we had. We seemed to have lost our compassion, our empathy, and in its place, some elected officials and those who are running for office with millions of dollars behind them spout platitudes with no real way to implement sound ideas.

Where is the truthful vision for America? We got off track in America - Wall Street greed, two wars, outsize spending, devaluing of education, lack of job creation, not helping those who cannot help themselves, stripping social services - but did we lose all the problem solvers along with our values?

One thing I regret about America. We've lost historical perspective and we stopped listening to wise men, and instead we bought in to simplistic jingoism. This is certainly not the 21st century I envisioned.

Are we ever going to smile again?

Namaste

Joan

The Mystical Magical Journey of Kaya

Hi, Boomers,

It's been a really difficult week and I'm glad it's over. Every day seemed to be a challenge none more than the death of my youngest son's dog, Kaya. Kaya was around 12 years old and a combination of half Bull Mastiff and maybe a pit and maybe an American bulldog. Aaron rescued Kaya while he was in law school at Syracuse getting a law/MBA double degree. The family thought Aaron was complicating his student life with a dog but it turned out to the opposite. Kaya was Aaron's soulmate and savior. She endured the freezing winters at Syracuse University with joy and traveled back and forth from NY to LA or Las Vegas with pitch perfect aplomb. She loved to travel and play in the snow. Dog and boy were inseparable.

When I first met Kaya, I fell in love. At the time, my significant other and I had a dobbie named Flojo because we got her during the 1988 Olympics. We also had another dog named Cleo and she was a mini doxie purchased to make Aaron happy in his new move with us to Pasadena. It was always a sight gag when I walked Flojo and Cleo.

But Kaya was magnificent. She knew she was loved and adored and gave back everything to all of us who took care of her and loved her. It was an unconditional love fest.

That's what dogs do, really. They love humans who love them back, their masters in particular without limits or conditions. It like dogs are zen creatures, holding a steady gaze out to those who love them. We cannot live without them and they cannot live without us. Kaya had cancer, probably of the stomach and Aaron didn't wait for her to suffer any more than necessary to make sure her passing was peaceful. It broke our hearts, none more than Aaron who had a rite of passage at this most solemn moment.

I tried to finish my new website content this week, but all I could think about was how profound is our attachments to animals, the loss of Kaya to my son and to our family. Nothing else seemed important. Through tears and starts and stops I managed to get some information on a page. I really don't remember what it was I was supposed to write, but it met a need to be productive. In one of the emails my speech coach sent to me, he tried to encourage me to speak out more about what I knew about the aging process, how it was that I aged so well, and what contributions I could make to the niche market I carved out for myself in the speaking world.

First thing that came to my mind was that people age better with animals. Animals increased the quality of anyone's life, whether it be dogs or cats, or fish or domesticated lizards. Animals make us happy; animals give us something other than ourselves to think about; animals cuddle; animals make us laugh; animals make us feel secure; animals give us the opportunity for physical activity, more specifically if they are dogs. It's hard to walk a cat or a lizard.

Of course, having a positive and healthy attitude about age is crucial to how we age; hopefully we are going to age with joy and productivity. Being happy with who we are at whatever age we are allows us to take on the challenges of growing older. And if we believe we can control our own destiny and are jazzed about what comes up next in life, finding our passions in life, well, then, that's even better for the aging process.

I also think that learning to be less reactive in an important part of aging. Life is in flux all the time; life changes and provides us with positives and negatives and we might think about taking everything in stride even if we don't like it much. My father used to do that all the time. I never saw the man flip out over anything in life. This idea that we stay balanced in mind and body absolutely reduces stress and anxiety.

I'm all about adapting to change. I'm all about living light and not attaching to a lot of material things. People get caught up in places and things but a healthy sense of detachment (see my blog on the 10% solution) is a must to keep issues in perspective, including ourselves. I love that line, "Get over yourself!" I actually think that aging gives us baby boomers an advantage because we have, hopefully, gained some wisdom and experience and historical perspective through our decades of learning and living.

So, the passing of my beautiful Kaya reminds me that the beauty of what we have in our lives is simply borrowed and given to us for a time. Our life on earth is a transition along the way to the ultimate end of our physical life. Kaya's energy and soul will live on and so will our soul and energy. I'm so happy to have known and played and loved with Kaya.

Namaste,

Joan

Faster Than a Speeding Bullet

Hi, Boomers,

One of my friends called me up today and said, "Joan, I'm really disappointed in you. You haven't blogged in several weeks. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" I shouted back. "Are you kidding me? What's wrong is how much I have on my plate and can't get through any of it!"

"Hold on, hold on. I'm just asking," he said quietly. "I'm just asking."

"Asking is the problem," I responded sheepishly

It went something like that except not only am I busy, but I also from time to time have difficulty deciding what I want to write about. Nothing was inspiring me except guilt that I had not written. I woke up this morning with that same guilty feeling. And then my friend called this afternoon to remind me.

I've been tackling the fifth draft of my keynote speech. It seems the darn speech never ends. I'm single minded about converting my speech coach's notes into the content and then wrestling with cuts and edits this is a full time project. I can't entertain another idea and I'm way behind on providing content to my web designer for my new website. I'm tardy with an article for the Huffington Post and I'm teaching more classes than I could ever imagine. And today I gave an interview with Dr. Diana Wiley on her radio show, Love, Lust and Laughter on Progressive Radio Network. Everything takes time.

Life has interfered with my life.

But I was thinking about a subject that I've talked about frequently in the last couple of weeks. What is it that keeps us from our dreams and finding our passions? My favorite answer is resistance. Resistance is anything that keeps us fro what we love or want to do. It is the enemy within us because it hacks away at the unlived life, a life without fulfillment. And that's really boring because it causes us to make endless lists of excuses not to do what we really want to do. I'm too old, I'm too fat, I'm too settled, my wife won't like that, my husband won't let me go, it's too expensive, it's too far, it's too stupid, I won't like that kind of play, I heard the movie was lame...you get the idea.

Stephen Pressfield in his book, The War of Art, said "Resistance is faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive and harder to kick than crack cocaine." Resistance keeps us from achieving the life we want or the life that is intended for us. Mr. Pressfield called resistance "the most toxic force on the planet. It is the root of more unhappiness than poverty, disease or erectile dysfunction. To yield to resistance crushes our spirit and makes us less than what we were born to be."

Somewhere lurking underneath resistance is fear. Often we aren't even aware that we are fearful of something or someone or situation. That's an unconscious state to be in. And it indicates that we are living in the shadow world, a world of half lights. We are only aware of our shadow (Plato's Cave), the unconscious part of our being. Of course, we will resist because we are not fully aware of ourselves. So perhaps we will not be able to discover what we are intended to do with our lives, find our passions, and open our hearts to the surprises that life gives to us many times over.

I'd love to entertain you a bit more, but I have to finish the audio on my book(s), Sixty, Sex, & Tango, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer and Women Obsessed. The first book will be ready for purchase on Monday, July 25. Pre-sales and discounts start on this coming Monday, July 11. I'm excited. I love the people I'm working with - really young kids who seem to have a idea to fill a market for audio books. Ben came up to me at the Los Angeles Festival of Books a few months ago and said: "With that title, you should put your book on audio." He was reading my mind and I was so totally NOT resistant, I almost hugged him. It's been a great ride since.

Namaste

Joan

A Meditation on Yoga

Hi, Boomers,

I am now in the decade of my 60s, and I am still the only one who can make a difference in myself and in my life. I am fully prepared to do so and look inwardly for guidance. It has been my preference and my joy to stay connected with myself through the practice of yoga. Yoga is also the way in which I express my physical and energetic sense of self. It is through my yoga practice that I am more able to stay present, to stay internally balanced, and to enjoy good health through the principles of breath, alignment, and movements.

I like to think that yoga is an aesthetic; it is a creative dance that blends movement and expression. When I’m practicing yoga, I feel like I’m the disco queen, the sexy Latina dancer, the prima ballerina, and everything beautiful wrapped up inside me. No one is watching me, and no one is judging me. My mat is my universe. I am always amazed by what I learn daily about moving into a position without needing to get anywhere. From the flowing yoga movements come joy and renewal. I’m excited and enthusiastic to be alive and mindful of my being. New ideas often enter my mind as I breathe and flow. I let them go, knowing that they will return in time.

Yoga is derived from the Sanskrit word yui, which means to “bring together” or “to unite.” The practice integrates all aspects of the individual--body, mind, and spirit--to bring about balance and harmony in a sentient being. There are three parts to a yoga practice: breathing, physical movement (or asana), and meditation.

Breathing is the linchpin of the practice, for it yokes the body and mind together. Breath is sacred, and breathing is the major mechanism that inspires us to be present. This is not an ordinary breathing pattern, but deep belly breathing that engages every cell in the body.

I like to refer to the moving or physical component of a yoga practice as a “moving meditation” because it connects a clear mind with breath and physical movement. The movement component helps me let go of my thoughts and to distance myself from the constant need to feed my ego.

I am facilitated in creating more awareness in my life through the practice of meditation. The simple definition of “meditation” is to quiet the mind; yet this definition doesn’t necessarily mean that we have to stop thinking. Meditation suggests to us that we let our thoughts go and not get stuck on one track or loop. When we relax the mind, we relax our body as well.

There are many creative techniques that I use in mediation apart from watching my thoughts go by like clouds or watching my breathing. I challenge my thoughts and ask myself if I have any suggestions for improving the meditation. I pay close attention to my posture, a straight spine. I hold and sustain contradictory thoughts, pay attention to ambient sounds in the room, imagine a beautiful scene on the beach. Or, I might ask myself what is it I really want in life?

Brain mapping studies reveal that mediation increases happiness and reduces stress, which gives us a better quality of ife. Long–term meditation is associated with increased gray matter, increased density of the brain stem, increased thickness of the spinal cord, increased blood flow, and improvement in cognitive learning.

The manner in which I engage in my yoga practice is through the selection of small intentions rather than goals, as in “I have to touch the floor; otherwise I haven’t executed the posture properly.” The intention of moving in to a pose with patience, grace, and alignment allows me to stay in the present without grasping or forcing myself into position. If I take the intentional aspect of yoga off my mat and into my life as a replacement for the goal-oriented Western concept of pushing toward achievement, I can live my life with more ease and a deeper sense of purpose and joy. This is the essence of yoga; enjoying the journey and not heading directly for the destination.

Yoga distances myself from the daily grind of life. I cannot change the dynamics of my world, but I can effect change in myself. I follow the yogic way of life and its principles of an open heart and mind and what follows is my bliss.

On my first day of my yoga teacher training class, my teacher asked the class why he or she had signed up for training. I said, “Because I want to live forever.” I was, of course, joking, but I do know that my yoga practice has allowed me to live with greater joy.

Namaste

Joan

The Oprah Syndrome

Hi, Boomers,

You have to have lived on another planet last week to have missed Oprah's closing show. Well, there were actually two last closing shows. Twenty-five years and thousands of guests and hundreds of hours of self-promotion with her charity work and book promotions, image issues, and cathartic moments. No matter her weight, Oprah has been every woman's muse.

Humans need gurus. We need models and counselors and guides to help us live our lives without drowning in quiet desperation. We are surrounded by people, places and things, and yet, we are still lonely and full of fears. After all, we're going to die some day for sure. No one can stop that, not even Oprah. We can't figure out why our lives remain stagnant and lacking in excitement. We expect more of ourselves; we are looking for another paradigm, a new way of looking at life and Oprah and her gurus have been the people who would help us find happiness and peace, and maybe take away all our thoughts of mortality. We will live on through Oprah.

Oprah makes us feel better about ourselves because, after all, who else but Oprah is going to bring us joy, give us have self-esteem, find love, be better parents and stay healthy and physically fit, and put off dying. We trust her and we love her and we worship her. She has assured us that she has made life much better for all of us.

We seem desperate and committed to have someone else help us cope with loneliness and provide us with everything that we cannot do for ourselves. Don't we have our own resources to make ourselves find joy and passion in life? Sure we do but we haven't realized that we are basically lazy. Desperate and lazy. Viewers sit on sofas and watch Oprah and her guests generate excitement and energy, make interesting decisions by taking actionable steps to achieve their own dreams. These guests are their own change agents. We like to watch them do cool things and go to spiritual places. We want to find out what inspires them. We want to be like them. But we are simply voyeurs and outsiders.

On Oprah's last show she gave us a directive to follow the actions of those thousands of guests who are examples of inspiration. These are for the most part people who lived life to the fullest and inspired others along the way. So, after 25 years, Oprah told us to get a move on and find our calling. Yes, that's right: our calling. She told us we can follow our dreams and be all that we can be and make our mark on the world just like everyone who came before on her show.

However, she forgot to tell us to get off the couch and stop watching television. That's because she owns a TV network called OWN and she has programs on OWN that she wants the couch potatoes to watch. They, too, will be as inspirational as her talk shows.

Unfortunately, Oprah gave her spirited address to those who simply watch on the sidelines and leave the action to others. Oprah never gave the couch potatoes a life line to do what we are called to do. Most will not do anything at all but watch the next version of her talk show. While Oprah was telling us what we should do, she was moving on to other projects and other journeys that were going to be bigger and better than what she had been doing for the last 25 years. She left it to others to help us get off the couch.

Anyone and everyone is entitled to retire or to be a change agent. It's not just the way of the powerful and rich. But Oprah thought it was time to pass on the crown on to the next guru. She did her part and played her guru role to the fullest. Along with giving away cars and trips, she sponsored schools and helped many people and recommended many good books. Maybe some of it was show biz and some of it was real but all of it was her calling. This might be her finest journey.

Namaste,

Joan

A Hard Day's Night

Hi, Boomers,

I've been absent from my blog. I apologize. It hasn't been because I don't love blogging. It's because I've been in the midst of thinking about and then changing my life's work.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and ask myself, "Why am I making my life so complicated in my 60s? I could just as easily not have tackled a career change and cruised along teaching yoga, dancing tango, and visiting my family in Vegas."

Keep your routine, Joan. Keep life simple. I hate it when I complicate life.

It all sounded so simple when last December I decided to attended a keynote speaker's conference sponsored by the National Speaker's Association in Las Vegas. I was curious about what a speaking career entails. In November I had made a number of inquiry calls to the local NSA chapter and met a really wonderful woman who was a member on the local NSA chapter and she was encouraging and just plain fun.

"Why not speak?" she said. "You'd be great."

That's all I needed to hear to get my mojo going. I had no idea what I was going to speak about, however. I usually jump into turgid waters without much thought as to whether I could swim my way out to safety. I've done that a couple of times in my life.

I love jumping off a cliff without a net. Does that make me an adrenalin junkie? I do love change and challenge. Perhaps this is what spurred me on to investigate becoming a speaker.

I thought it would be a good idea to use my book, Sixty, Sex, & Tango, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer, as a point of departure for a speech. In the narrative of my book, a personal memoir, I discuss many topics about living a full and joyful life in my 60s. I refer to the complexity dealing with adult children, the emotional roller coaster of being a grandmother, the disappointments of dating and trying to find some semblance of a relationship with a man, the sadness of taking care of an elderly parent, returning to therapy, the joy of following your passions, the fact is that retirement is not an option, and much more. Even though I didn't have a clue about writing a speech, I certainly had some information I could use from my book.

The NSA keynote speaker's conference was a revelation. Although I wasn't certain I wanted to complicate my life with public speaking, I was wowed by the quality of speakers and the first rate information presented by top speakers. This was a brave new world, and as usual, I was coming in to this new world with a very late start.

I've always been a late comer and a late bloomer. I'm not sure why that is but it's happened a few times in my life and this last Johnny come lately even surprised me. I don't even know when the interest in speaking hit me. I wish I could remember because it might make a good story. It just kind of materialized.

After the conference, I was supposed to start writing a speech. It took me two months to figure out what to write. By then I has secured a speech coach. I saw him in Vegas; in fact, he lived in Vegas so it was convenient for me to see him when I visited my family. It took him awhile to accept me as a client because these top notch guys don't just take anyone one. Being a speech coach or a coach to anyone is a real pain in the neck. It's probably not worth the money they charge a client for all the pushing and cheerleading they have to do to motivate a potential speaker. Somehow I convinced my coach that I was worthy. I gave him my book and then we strategized a topic. Then we changed the topic and then I wrote a draft for my one hour speech, and then I threw it out after I met with my coach.

I started to watch videos of speakers. I was trying to get the sense of how to deliver a message to an audience, to make a promise to them that what I will propose are actionable steps to change their lives. I just finished the second draft and sent it in to my speech coach.

This speech writing has been all consuming. I feel like a junkie. I feel like I'm on speed. It's like when I used to write screenplays. I'd stay up all night and write when I got an idea and I wouldn't stop. I'm manic.

Why did I complicate my life? I complicated my life because something inside of me is compelled to speak to audiences about living happy, wild and free when the job is over, or a career burns out, or when depression sets in, when the body is too fat and lacks exercise, when relationships are over, when there is no more joy in life.

Maybe I feel that I can motivate people by sharing my experiences with the benefits of yoga and living my passions and telling stories about people who have changed their lives because they have let go of resistance and judgement.

Maybe it's just a dream, but it's my dream and I'm jazzed and motivated by the thought of doing it some day. This might just be my Act 3.

Namaste

Joan

Anticipate the Positive

Hi, Boomers,

I just came back from 2 days at the Los Angeles Festival of Books. This year it was held on USC campus instead of UCLA. It had been held at UCLA for more than 10 years. When I first heard the news that the festival of books was moving off my beloved UCLA campus, I was deeply disappointed. I teach yoga at UCLA and I was thrilled because I have a parking permit. I could walk easily enter the festival if it had been held on UCLA grounds.

So I met my booth-mate at the Vagabond Hotel just south of USC campus on Saturday morning. Stan the Man - award winning pie maker and blue ribbon dessert maker, along with his adorable mom - and we proceeded to divide and set up our corner booth. Throughout Saturday about 75,000 people attended. Lots of families; lots of kids, not a whole lot of interest in Sixty, Sex, & Tango, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer. I was looking around for my demographic - the boomers - those without kids, those who were curious about what was under the title. Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of chuckles at my title. I heard the title echoing around the booth all day. That was awesome.

So without the thrill of the sale, I went forth and roamed the festival. It was really spread out and I seemed to walk forever. I dropped off my book to my author friends, and checked out booths that targeted speaking and writing and enjoyed the music and the energy. Surrender to the moment, dude. It was all good. Stan the man and I even had time to create a concept for a reality show. That I can't share with you all. But if it ever gets to reality TV, you'll be the first to know.

This first day, I got kind of philosophical about the book festival journey. "It's hit and miss," my author friend, Etan, told me. He writes and sells children's books and does a bang up job of it. So when I wasn't selling, I was networking. People who came up to talk to me at my booth were incredibly generous with their time and information. I accumulated lots of good ideas for my next incarnation into a speaker. I had to remind myself that my life, my work was a process in motion. Fluid and always positive.

Sunday brought some good sales but more heart-felt conversation about living a full life after 50. People shared stories, gave me thumbs up, smiles, laughter. Some even returned from the day before to thank me for the honesty of the book. A man who is a tango dancer wanted to talk tango. I gave him some tips about the tango walk. I riffed on the bliss of meditation as a meabs to open the mind. One young man came up to my booth, looked at the book cover, and handed me a card. "Did you ever think about putting your book on audio?" he asked. I looked at him as if he had two heads. "Wow! Did you read my mind? I've been putting that off for months," I enthusiastically told him. "I sure am interested." "Well, you've got a great voice," he said. "Would you like to do some readings for other books. Most people don't want to read their own books." Bingo! What a great day!

Keep an open mind, have an open heart, don't label what is in front of you, don't resist the present and surprises will come. I have no idea what will come out of the book festival this weekend at USC - certainly anything that comes my way would be somewhat different from a book festival at UCLA. The energy convergence is unique. So it's impossible to have any kind off expectation of an outcome. Yet, that's the beauty in life. Stay calm and serene and enjoy the grace of life. Oh, yeah.

Namaste

Joan

Easter Parade

Hi, Boomers,

I don't quite know how to respond to Easter. I was raised a Catholic so I celebrated Easter every year until I married a Jew, had two sons and since then celebrated Passover. It seems ironic that I went from the New Testament to the Old Testament in a few short years. The fact is that I was raised a Catholic (my father's side), but my mother was Jewish but not raised Jewish. She used to say when finally revealing her parentage that my grandmother was Jewish, but she didn't really recognize that she was Jewish because she knew nothing about the religion. My mother told me when I was 19 years old that Grandma Rose was Jewish. When I asked her why she decided to tell me that very important fact about her life when I was 19, she told me that since I was dating a Jewish boy, I should know.

If you get that logic, you're a lot smarter than I am.

Except to say that I was well aware that San Francisco and environs carried heavy anti-semetic prejudice. My mother told me that job applications during most of the early 20th century asked what religion the applicant claimed. If you put Jewish, then you most certainly wouldn't get the job. My mother put down that she was Protestant. My mother had no idea what that meant. It just sounded neutral.

Religion is complicated. I went to a Seder on Monday night and had the most fabulous time I have ever had celebrating Passover. Who knew it could be so much fun! We all read from the Haggadah the story of the Jews flight out of Egypt and there was clapping and cheering and the ritual passing of bitter herbs and hard-boiled eggs and kosher sherry, and we even took some intermissions for dancing before we settled down around 10:30 to eat the most delicious food I have ever tasted, which was laid out beautifully on the dining room table. Middle Eastern Jews - the Persians and the Iraqis sure know how to bond as families and feel the intimate joy of oneness.

My Easters were dull affairs without celebration or bonding. My Irish relatives had no sense of cuisine. Outside of the celebration of the Mass on Easter Sunday, very little ritual lingered after 10 o'clock in the morning. The drive from San Rafael to San Francisco in the mid-afternoon was tedious. No one spoke except to wonder if the ham would be salty. I hated ham so I knew I would't eat. Brussel sprouts were overcooked as was everything else that was supposed to be green on the table. The Irish weren't big on fresh green salad; the closest they came to salad was potato salad swimmings in mayonnaise with too many pieces of, what else, green pickles. My cousins and my brother and I played with each other with little interest, and most of the time I sat in the living room waiting to go home, slowly sipping a coca cola that was forbidden to me at home.

In terms of religion, each holiday represents different philosophic concepts. One of the uncles at the Seder took me aside and told me that what really mattered about Passover was the central theme of freedom. The Jews finally got out of Egypt and were able to be free as they went on their journey to the promised land. Easter represents redemption. It was reported that Jesus, crucified two days earlier (Good Friday) and buried in a cave, rose from the dead and was proclaimed the true Messiah by a group of his followers. Some of his disciples said that he made a few visits before he ascended into heaven. Mankind was redeemed; our sins were forgiven. We are not concerned with freedom - freedom of thought, in particular.

But then there was some European pagan ritual that got mixed up with the redemption of Christ and we got Easter egg hunts and chocolate bunny rabbits and an annual NYC Easter Parade . Now if you can find the logic in introducing a pagan ritual into a spiritual context - and mix that with ham - and it simply baffles me and often vexes my sense of spiritual decorum.

I have a tendency to think that religion is based on mythology - like the Greek and Roman mythological stories we may be familiar with. The books in the new testament written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were all written 50 years to 150 years after Jesus lived on the earth. Facts can be altered to suit someone else's truth. It's a little unclear who actually wrote the old testament - probably lots of contributors and lots of good stories ranging from forbidden fruit to an array of punishments that even frightens adults. Did I mention sex, the subservient role of women in marriage and worshipping idols? Neither old or new testament give much credence to individual thinking or philosophic exploration.

It probably doesn't matter much because when it comes to a spiritual belief system developed out of organized religion there is little apparent logic. Belief in a higher power or religious institutions is emotional. I suspect that the need to believe in something other than ourselves is based on our fear of dying and the need to be spiritually and morally supported by "the other" throughout life. It's challenging to live without some powerful ally. God, Jesus, Allah are on my side. Some think that belief in a higher power is based on the concept of surrender and acceptance. Others think that a belief in a higher power is a crutch; i.e, our human belief system developed from our own sense of virtue is not strong enough to get through life and pass on into death. No matter the reason for belief in a universal power or organized religion every person has to get through life and death in his/her own way.

Powerful forces can also exist within our own psyches or souls. Stepping back a bit from ourselves, detaching with that 10% reserve to observe our actions (kindness and forgiveness is good) is also a fine way to access our moral compass. Finding the power in the energy of our universal is another way of surrendering to and accepting our lives and our eventual death. For after all, we are only passing through this life on the way to death. We can choose to make it joyous or fraught with struggle. We can choose to live by virtue and a strong moral spine or we can simply collect a bunch of bad karma.

The longer I live the more I realize that there is an Easter parade going on all the time in our hearts and minds. It always comes down to having an attitude of gratitude. This is my religion.

Namaste

Joan

Losing Our Minds

Hi, Boomers,

I want to share something with you. Something very important. It's concerns our brains. The brain is a very complex organ, composed of approximately 100 billion neurons and each one of those neurons communicates with up to 10.000 other neurons. It's a loaded minefield in our heads.

We have been, and rightly so, very concerned about losing our minds, or more specifically succumbing to memory loss before our time. After all, some of us have seen our parents or grandparents suffer from dementia or early onset of Alzheimer's disease. In my case, I have seen how my ex-husband has had to handle his wife, Diane, who has suffered from Alzheimer's for well over a decade. The disease probably began in her mid-50s. Her mother died from this terrible disease. Diane probably didn't have a chance between her DNA and the lack of a cure.

Presuming at mid-life that we will not have Alzheimer's and may just be part of the hundreds of thousands of elderly people who begin to lose short term memory, like my mother, and then finally lose so much that she cannot remember to eat, there is great interest in how can we manage this process just a little bit better than our parent's generation. There is definitely power in knowing and understanding just a little more about how we learn and retain information.

I have been reading about the brain. It fascinates me because I am preparing to go out as a speaker and talk about the boomer generation. The speaking process is very different form the writing process. When I wrote Sixty, Sex, & Tango, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer, the memories were active in my head and they were important enough to me to be clearly remembered for decades. The key in writing my memoir was that I had a very strong emotional attachment to the subject.

But if I'm trying to motivate someone as a speaker, trying to get people to change behavior or try new behavior, I need to know how the brain receives and retains and then acts or on the messages. People learn when they apply the concepts given to them with consistently.

Part of the learning equation is how interested we are in the subject. But the way we learn best is when we are given a few related points and build on these points for effect. The denser the points, the more the points are illustrated, the more we will retain. The least effective way we retain information is by just plain memorizing.

Another way we retain information is by picking up on active verbs, which animate ideas. When speakers get us to think about doing what they're talking about, we are learning. But the key is whether what we are learning is meaningful in terms of feelings, which are generate by emotions. That involves the limbic area of the brain - the pain/pressure center. It's the area that turns words into memory. We also learn better through context than content. This means we respond better to what we know through experience. When I hear Buenos Aires, I have an immediate, tactile sense about the city. If one speaks to me about Buenos Aires, I am immediately at attention.

My reading about the brain indicated that the brain is lazy and has to be stimulated or coached into consciousness. However, if the brain understands that what someone is telling them is really good for the person - the "what's in it for me" idea is a powerful listening device.

All that said, now is the moment to ask: How can we stop some of that memory loss? How can we keep our minds from aging? The standard answer is do crossword puzzles. I balk at that because I'm terrible doing them so I feel left out of that loop. I can't dredge up a word to go with a cue unless it's about movies or the theater.

But there are actually three theories that help the brain's retention. The effects of meditation on the brain has been studied at the UCLA brain mapping center. All results point to a connection between meditation and more brain activity. A yoga practice adds longevity to our mind and body since the practice connects the mind and body through the breath. And any kind of exercise, even just walking is a key to longevity. In fact, exercise is number one on the anti-aging list of things to do to stay young.

But I heard something else today pertaining to the brain, which sparked my interest. There is something called adaptive competency - this is the ability of the brain to bounce back from stress. In other words, adaptive competency allows us to move off our anxious state or stress related experience and into a present state where that stress passes through us. My mother had that in spades. I remember when a stressful or unpleasant experience occurred, my mother would say, "Just get over it, dear. Leave it behind you." She never in all the time she was alive "chewed" on the negative. She slept well every night she lived on this earth. This characteristic of the brain is called cognitive reserve.

The way the brain adapts, it's cognitive reserve, or does not adapt - very little cognitive reserve - determines our ability to release stress and, therefore, live longer. A practice of meditation and yoga helps to build up our cognitive reserves.

It might be interesting to examine daily how long we hold on to our stress. Then take a yoga class for the next six months and see how your cognitive reserves have built up.

Namaste

Joan

Talk Pretty to Me

Hi, Boomers,

I was musing the other day about the power of words. Most of us talk and talk and talk and it becomes an unconscious stream of, well, our unconscious mind. But words are, indeed, a powerful force in our universe. We can use them for good or for evil.

When I attended the Keynote Speaker's Conference in January sponsored by the National Speakers Association, I heard a woman speak on the importance of how we use words when we communicate. This terrific speaker elevated word usage to an art form. I was completely involved in her insights into how the use of a different words can alter the tone and style of a speech, a meeting, a gathering, a dialogue between two people. Her reference for precision about how words are chosen was specifically directed to business management and management styles in corporations. Those of use who have worked for companies are particularly sensitive to the nuances of word choices in difficult workplace situations. And those of use who have lost friends with our unconscious responses know the consequences the unintended remarks will produce. I lost a friend because I didn't choose my words carefully enough, although I think that girlfriend was looking for a reason to get me out of her life.

In my profession as a yoga instructor, I am choosing words in every class to describe physical positions as well as spiritual intent. I have to be perfectly present to do this kind of teaching. After class, I want down time. I'm not inclined to carry on conversations at length between classes. So I was particularly interested in an article on mindful communication that I just read in the latest Yoga Journal. The article suggested that when and if a person wants to speak, the following questions might be considered: (1) Will you tell the truth? (2) Will you be kind? (3) Is it necessary?

I'm a writer and on paper I choose my words carefully, or at least I try to be mindful that written communication sends out as much energy into the universe as does spoken language.

Before we speak or write it is necessary to have clarity of thought - a clear mind - and clear intention. This concept of clarity of mind and intention allows us to draw deeper into the best of our being and communicate with an open heart. Conscious communication sends out powerful energy into the universe. Truthful communication draws listeners closer to the source of those who speak the truth.

Have you ever walked into an empty room and felt a residual energy? Or walked into a room where no one was talking and felt a collective positive energy/or negative energy? Mindful communication fills a space with truth, kindness, and purpose. It's an awesome concept to contemplate, and it's a challenging practice to aspire to as communicators. Good communicators are honest and believable and others will gravitate toward their energy and try to catch some of it for themselves.

I'm certainly not the greatest writer on the planet by far, but when I wrote my memoir, Sixty, Sex, & Tango, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer, I went through the book with my B.S. detector because honesty was the most important ingredient for writing a confessional. And I literally had to question my honesty at almost every turn of phrase. It was exhausting and exciting at the same time because I was able to expose my vulnerability all the way through the book. As a result, readers have told me frequently that reading my book was like sitting in a room with me and listening to me talk an expose my foibles and mistakes and do it with my customary self-deprecating humor. So my book was truthful, I hope, and mostly kind, but whether it was necessary or not, well, that's up to the public.

Mindful communication is one of those things in life that you really have to practice and pay attention to, and it requires a whole lot of consciousness raising. Lapsing into unconscious responses without clear intention and thought will always get you into trouble. It's really better to talk pretty to each other and our connections will be the stronger for it.

Namaste

Joan

Surrender to the Now

Hi, Boomers,

I was supposed to be on the road tonight, heading for Vegas to see my family. A long weekend of lots of love. It's my oldest son's birthday. He's thirty-nine. Wow! When did I ever think that would happen. Surrender to it, Mom.

But, hey, I'm not on the road. It started to rain at about three o'clock. I was heading out to teach my sixth class today, but it was a tango lesson to my friend, John, and I was so very happy to mix it up today with all of my yoga classes. I decided to dismiss the rain and carry on with my plans to leave after class seven at UCLA.

I wanted to leave town. I wanted to see my grandchildren and my sons and my daughters-in-law with a lot of passion. I could make it out of town. I was sure.

As I drove home through Santa Monica, I slogged through the usual late afternoon traffic, it slowly dawned on me as I reached my apartment building that the rain was going to stop my plans to leave. I couldn't even get into my garage from the street. If I couldn't get in my building because of a huge line of traffic, the traffic on the freeways was going to be impossible. My safety might even be compromised while driving. It would take me about six hours to get to Vegas. Maybe I could make it to my son's house by one o'clock in the morning. Maybe.

I tried to drive to UCLA for my class in the Public Health building. I stood still in traffic while going through the VA Hospital. I was sinking with disappointment. It really wasn't that big a deal, I thought. I was just so anxious to connect with family. I could leave the next day at 4 am and be in time for breakfast with the boys, maybe take them to school.

The moment opened up for me while sitting in the car. I had been talking to my yoga classes during day about surrendering, accepting the moment, the now. It was my turn to surrender. It was my time to step back and detach that 10% and observe what was happening to me. Take some emotional distance. Take a rational perspective on the situation.

The practice of the Tao is about daily losing. Our path in life isn't smooth. Stuff happens and sometimes it isn't fun. Sometimes it's downright disappointing. Surrender, accept and there will be no struggle. It's when we struggle that our lives get chaotic and unmanageable. Accepting the struggle leads to a spiritual and emotional discipline that, in turn creates an element of self mastery.

It is truly unfortunate that we are programmed for instant gratification. It removes our thinking from the now and takes us into future thinking. We cannot stay present while waiting for something to self-satisfy us whether it is food or sex or drugs or shopping. Future thinking robs us of the present and we loose a precious moment. Past thinking destroys the joy of the now.

So I'm going to Vegas early tomorrow morning. For sure it's going to be a shorter ride; for sure it's going to be a more pleasant drive. And I'll be living in the present tense.

Namaste

Joan

The 10% Solution

Hi, Boomers,

The learning curve keeps on giving. I was just interviewed on an internet radio site for my book, Sixty, Sex, & Tango, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer. It was probably a very small station by comparison to other internet feeds, but I was happy to be asked to speak about my book. The woman who asked me to be on her radio show, Jennifer Hillman, lives in Tucson and is a life coach. She was taken with the themes of my book and I was happy to expound on them while she was at my booth. Jennifer is a hard working and very spiritual being.

While we were dialoguing on the phone, she asked me many questions about how the book came about, what provoked me to write such an honest and forthright memoir, what was the most difficult section to write, what was the most fun to write, how I published it and what expectations I had about the book's trajectory. There were many more questions because it was an hour show, but I was struck by the honesty of questions. I had to be concise and honest in my answers, of course, but it was also a discipline in listening and and it gave me even more clarity about what my path, my Tao, in life. In short, I was challenged.

One of the ideas I'm thinking about lately is that it is important not to invest 100% of our energy and emotion into situations in life. Eckhart Tolle in his book, The Power of Now, writes exquisitely about staying present, being conscious in life and reflecting on ways to raise the level of our conscious being. One of the ways that Tolle and the yoga philosophy blend ideas is in the area of detachment.

For those who do not understand this concept, let me say that that is doesn't mean that we are not empathetic or sympathetic or caring. On the contrary, the way we express those feelings in any situation is to understand the nature of what we are observing. If we jump right in to the fray, into other's issues and problems and catastrophes, we lose objectivity.

Detachment involves standing back (mentally and emotionally) and disengaging about 10% or more even when we are confronted by other beings. Listen and observe more and and our reactions will be appropriate to the moment. It might sound cold to an untrained ear, but the intention of being present fully when helping a friend or family member or any human being will increase mindfulness and awareness. If we are not fully present, we cannot be of service because emotion and clarity become difficult to come by.

Which leads me into my favorite subject: meditation. Jennifer asked me if I take time daily to meditate, to the clear the mind (or try to because sometimes that doesn't work all that well), but to at least let the thoughts go by without attaching emotions to that thought. In truth, meditation isn't precisely the absence of thought because we will always, always have a thought every second or so. But the intention is to let the thoughts go by - as my master yoga teacher, Max, says - like a cloud passing. Just watch the thoughts without labeling them, judging them or attaching emotion to them.

I also learned in my drug counseling work that when the limbic brain takes over - our pain/pleasure center - consciousness is hard to come by. We make decisions on the basis of the unconscious, which resides in the limbic brain, which can lead us to making decisions that are not good for us. So practicing a modicum of detachment - minimum 10% - we increase clarity, consciousness and understanding. We are on the way to self-mastery, boomers.

Simple, huh? Yeah, but it takes practice.

Namaste

Joan

When the Journey Begins

Hi,Boomers,

I talked about you all weekend at the Tucson Book Festival. It was the first time I appeared in public with my book, Sixty, Sex, & Tango, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer, except for my book signings. This was a big venue - the fourth largest book festival in the U.S. I had a booth all to myself, next to the CareMore Unit with a group of the most fun guys (they took blood pressure and established glucose levels) and a couple of ragtag men left over from the Stanley and Livingston scientific expedition in the Congo. I didn't quite get what kind of books they were selling but I loved their authentic costumes.

My booth was bare with just a table and a chair. But they had put a sign above the booth with the title of my book. I loved that sign. I had no cover for my ugly table so I went hunting for a table cloth. As I weaved my way around the booths that were setting up at 7:30 Saturday morning, I saw in the distance the end of a sign above a booth: Venice, CA. I got terribly excited and ran over to the booth to meet a fellow yogi from Santa Monica who wrote children's books. It was an incredible beginning to my two day adventure. Etan was a light that shone bright during the weekend. While were talking, a very nice man came by wheeling his boxes of books. He told us that for some political reasons he lost his booth. Something about a conflict with other people who were selling cookbooks, and he wondered if Etan wanted to share his booth. His cookbook was a visual feast of mouthwatering pies.

Here was a moment out of so many memorable moments that touched my heart. There was a silent pause as I waited for Etan's response. Etan wrote a series of children's books that were sensational and he had energy and salesmanship that rocked the festival. Etan was thinking.

He worked mostly alone, but I was a newbie an I didn't know the territory or the politics of book festivals.

"Let me think about it," Etan said. "Come back in a few minutes."

Stan, the baker of pies, was totally cool. He smiled and walked away with dignity. Etan and I continued to talk about yoga and I bought a few of his children's books for my grandsons. And then Stan came back to us. Etan looked up as he approached. I was just about to tell Stan that I'd be glad to have company in my booth. It seemed awful bare in there. Then Etan said it was fine if he took the corner table. In a way, I was disappointed because I felt I wanted to be generous, but Etan looked happy and so did Stan. So all was good.

I asked Stan if he had an extra table cloth. He gave me some blue plastic, and I went on my merry way to my empty booth. I gazed at my box of books with tape still across the top and decided to set the books on a table. The morning sun was heating up and bearing down forcefully on our row of booths. Out of some nervousness, I kept futzing with the arrangment of books because I had no signage, no flowers, no decorations. I took out my IHome speakers and played tango music. The day was beginning.

I met one of my neighbors. Penny published books and she was a competent and confident single woman who had an incredible handle on the publishing business. She became one of the most important people I met during the weekend. And there were many women who came up to me to introduce themselves and to take me by the hand to other people at the festival who were going to play a significant role in my future goals.

And the books sold, and the people came up to talk to me about the boomer generation, what was it like to live during the beatnik generation in San Francisco during the early 60s. There was dialogue about existentialism, Sartre, Camus, Kerouac, Ginsberg, Vietnam, the greed, hubris, and total disregard for those who were hurt by the U.S. financial markets. They were also very concerned about the lack of urgency to preserve our natural environment.

What I found interesting was that there was an equal number of men and women who approached my booth to discuss my book. I'm sure that at the outset they were attracted because of the title. It certainly wasn't the decor that attracted people to my booth. They found sixty, sex, & tango three words that required some discussion.

I began to think that the speech I was working on, the unbundling of the boomer mythology, was a topic that was very interesting to our generation. Everyone 60 and over wanted to dissect the various movements and social currents and psychological effects that the boomer generation had experienced and are still experiencing today. I found women to be more optimistic than men. But I found men to be more vocal about the economic nuances of what happened to our economy and how our generation would play out the next couple of decades. "What happens to us?" they asked.

What also surprised me was how many young men and women came to my booth to ask questions that related to the historical context of the boomer generation. Some were even curious about the meaning of being "beat." Of course, the sex part of the title was titillating to most everyone, but there wasn't much discourse on that. There was tango conversation to be sure, but most of the talk tended to be more pointed toward the quality of life in later years and what they should expect.

The question of what happens to us boomer now is an area that I want to try to answer in this speech I was writing. It turns out that the connectivity I had at the book festival with its most interesting and intelligent attendees were the key to my conceptualizing the answer. And I'm still working on it.

But what I take with me from this book festival is a sense that a representative population of Tucson are caring and generous and outgoing. It was a wonderful experience and I learned a great deal about the tone and style of boomers in a particular section of our country.

Namaste

Joan

Life is an Action, Not a Thought

Hi, Boomers,

There should be no excuse for a spiritual moment. I'm having one. And this moment comes courtesy of my internal angst and incessant thinking. Will that "monkey mind" ever cease and desist?

F. W Robertson a nineteenth century preacher is quoted as saying:

Truth is given, not to be contemplated, but to be done. Life is an action, not a thought.

We are so much in our minds. We think and think and mull and go over and over our thoughts as if we they were so important and then it leads to...yep, more thinking and less action. So much time is wasted in thought instead of emptying our minds and finding the space inside ourselves to connect to our inner self - to just Be. Thinking happens when you want to become somebody instead of just staying who you are. Thinking objectifies - from the thought to the object and then to the emotion. Thinking doesn't help us discover our soul; it helps us mask ourselves.

I remember studying existentialism at Berkeley in my theater classes. We had to read Sartre's Being and Nothingness. One of my teacher's said, "You are what you do." That stuck with me ever since. I wanted to be that woman who is her action. That's great. That's part of the collective unconscious of my being. But as I'm identifying with my action, while my life is my action, I can get caught up in the thinking of the action and instead of doing the action.

We all have this kind of loop going on in side our heads. "I am what I do." "I identify with what I do for a living, as a father, a mother, a brother, a sister." The actions gets confused with the being.

So much of what we do is self-serving. Our days are about us, what we think about people, places and things, references to the past, to the future. Where is the present and where is the truth in our lives? It occurs to me that we might be losing our souls to thought?

Sometimes I believe I might have been doing just that in the last couple of weeks so caught up with the need to make decisions about my future and thinking of taxes and my operation and recovery. Where is the present in all of this so-called life I live. I'm passing the present by. It's eluding me. I can't find it.

Easy to lose the sense of self, the honest connection to others when I'm preoccupied with being preoccupied. Time becomes more important than it should. Time runs my life. Racing. Racing. I'm racing from one class to another and not taking the time to live my life as an action. I'm simply reacting in this context.

I don't want my life to be just a series of thoughts. I want to go deeper and get to know my soul, my divine being. I know, as a person who studies yoga, that I want to return more mindfully to meditation, to letting go of my thoughts and creating space to be present for myself and those that I love. I think that's called consciousness raising.

I have a fifty year high school reunion coming up and I have reconnected with my elementary and high school friends and I want to stay present for those whom I've loved in the past and still feel that love in the present. I felt I was giving lip service to my recent connections even though I was feeling joyous about our returning into each others' lives. One of my friends is very ill and I am tremendously concerned about her. My oldest friend since we were two years old and I were expressing our concern about our mutual friend and it occurred to me that not only was I not living my truth - my life was just a series of thoughts and that did not make me particularly free - but I wasn't creating space for myself in relation to my ills friend and to others in my life. Here goes the thinking again. I have not been creating space for action, the truthful living experience that allows for connection and real intimacy.

A path to self is to get out of the way of self and behold the path - or another way of saying this is to follow our Tao, our truth and our journey. I'm going to try to get out of my way, get out of my mud, and do That which is free to experience and just let It be, keeping full attention on and directing my mind to the now. I will know the truth.

Hope that wasn't too heavy for anyone. However, what triggered my awareness is likely old high school friend who has Rheumatoid Arthritis and lives in pain. She consistently shakes up my sense of self and help me to stay in the present. My old school friend and I are planning to visit her in June. I'm so happy about this. This moment is my truth, my deeper and more profound experience that arises out of just plain old Being.

Namaste

Joan

Mortality Comes Knocking

Hi, Boomers,

Remember the concept of mortality? We boomers don't like to think much about the prospect of dying because we're so close to it, but I'm forced to do just that today. I'm going in for a "Medical Procedure." Okay, it's not invasive surgery; it's the laparoscopic kind. Three little cuts and it's done! Voila! I'm out of there. I think.

The out patient hospital called yesterday afternoon to register me. Lots of questions, including my mother's maiden name. Why that? My mother died a year ago. What possible...

oh, yeah, they can trace me to some dynasty in the nineteenth century in Poland - to my grandfather Jake - the labor organizer. He certainly wouldn't be popular with Wisconsin's governor. Don't get the granddaughter of a a commie/pinko talking about labor unions.

But the piece de resistance question was:

"Do you have a will?" the sweet nurses's voice on the other end of the phone ask with trepidation.

"You're kidding. What? Am I going to die?'

"Oh, no," she politely replied. "If you don't have a will, we have a form..." her voice trailed off.

Awkward conversation to say the least.

"Yes, I have a will. My son, the lawyer has it. But I don't know if he remembers that I made one out or if he still has it or if he....." I trailed off.

Awkward.

"Well, I have it in my computer," I continued picking up the lull in the conversation.

"Well, good because if not..."

"I know you have a form, which I will fill out when I'm admitted."

Conversation over.

I was left with an uncomfortable feeling that I just faced my demise. Dead. The finality of all life. Dead. Couldn't get it out of my mind. Dead. It came back to me all after noon, through the teaching of two more yoga classes, through "American Idol" final 24, through the shower, through my Cleopatra book, and trying to fall asleep after Antony's disastrous battle against Octavian.

But as yogi, I am prepared for death. Oh, yes, dying in the ethereal sense of the word. We yogis call it transitioning. Our spirit, our soul leaves out mortal body and enters the universe. Energy never dies. All physicists know that. Energy gets somehow recycled in the universe, in the space world. I do believe that. I do believe energy continues to be a force in our atmosphere. I even believe in reincarnation. Thank God. That's kind of comforting about now. However, the mortal thoughts, the dead thoughts are disturbing when one faces an operating table, even though my gynecologist is a genius, an expert, but human. Everyone is human. Mistakes happen. My friend's mother was having a kidney operation and the doctor nipped at the bladder. Opps. So there is that slight chance that the "in and out" procedure won't go as well as ordering a burger from "In and Out." With the latter, you're sure of the outcome.

The unease prevails and the knots grow bigger in my stomach as rain starts to pound the southern California streets. Is that a bad omen? I only know that my adorable yoga student just texted me this comforting thought:

"Just think, J, you can have a glass of wine after it's over."

So mortality doesn't feel so bad after that thought. Starving as I am, thirsty as I am, and dying for a latte as I am at this very moment, I've got some really tolerable goodies to look forward to after my ovaries are gone. Sex, I hope, is another goodie still waiting.

"And how long do I have to wait for that, Doc?" I ask plaintively.

Namaste

Joan

The Secret of a Happy LIfe: A Straight Spine and an Open Heart

Hi, Boomers,

So much has happened this week. The Egyptian populace erupted in a fight for their rights as Egyptian citizens and we mourned those who lost their lives in the 1986 Challenger explosion. Talk about extremes.

I remember only the good about my travels through Egypt. I have had the privilege of traveling twice in my lifetime to this incredible and fascinating country (once in 1963 and once in 1980). The Egyptian people and their magnificent history hold a special place in my heart. When I visited Egypt on both occasions, I was taken with their spirit and energy. Egypt wanted to rise again to greatness, and when bore witness to country with great potential. After all, it is surrounded by feats of greatness and monuments built to bear witness to that greatness. I was absolutely charmed one evening as a group of Jewish women, my self included, broke bread with a Muslim family in 1980. The conversation was intelligent and caring. My experiences in Egypt were truly inspirational.

As I watched the Egyptians take to the streets and document their rising up against a government that had violated their human rights and kept them in poverty and failed to raise the standard of living for its people, I was angry and saddened. A proud and graceful nation was mired in poverty and inequality. They didn't deserve their leader's ineptitude and corruption. They once built the pyramids and moments to their kings and queens. They developed a civilization that was so far ahead of its time in learning and culture that its waste of intelligence and creativity is bordering on criminal.

And I remember the Challenger exploding on January 28th, 1986. I was attending American Film Institute that year as a Producing Fellow. I was shooting my second film at my rented house. The crew and myself were setting up food in the kitchen for the day and my little TV was on. Everyone was excitedly anticipating the shooting schedule for the day, but we all made time to see the Challenger lift off. We stood around the TV, and when that moment came, we were mesmerized by the trajectory of the missile and its long trails of white smoke. Then in something like less than a minute later, we witnessed an exploding ball of fire. It was intense, made more so by the backdrop of azure sky. None of us were sure what was happening. Most of us thought it was part of what came off as a rocket ship hit a certain altitude. But the explosion meant that the Challenger was literally disintegrating in front of our eyes.

As I watched the film again on Friday, I was still rooting for the Challenger to launch into space and still in denial that in less than seconds the Challenger was going to disintegrate. I held my breath just as I held my breath that January morning in my kitchen. Knowing the outcome of that space mission didn't make it any easier to watch on Friday and didn't less the impact or sadness. It was as real today as it was 25 years ago. I stood straight up and walked out of my living room. I wanted it to go away but it was never going to go away.

By now, you all are well aware that I am a yoga teacher. I practice meditation and yoga many times a day with my class and by myself (well, not flow yoga so much but the meditation). Last Thursday in class, as I was vamping my bon mots to an attentive group of yoga practicioners, I quipped:

"Do you know the secret of a happy life?"

Everyone looked up at me like I had completely lost my mind.

"A straight spine! And let's not forget an open heart."

Everyone laughed because by now my students absolutely knew what I was talking about. A spine that is straight is a happy spine. It is a spine that is unobstructed by resistance, by negativity, by imbalance and a straight spine will bring good health for a lifetime. A straight spine indicates that the core of our bodies, the spiritual position in our bodies, is directly connected to the sacrum - the lowest part of the spine just below the lower lumbar. And in the parlance of yoga, that area is the kundalini - the source of energy in our being. The kundalini is the source of our happiness, of our passion, and of our balance.

An open heart. We'll that's a fine and nobel concept but to keep our hearts open takes an abundance of consciousness and a dearth of ego. Our hearts represents a generosity of spirit, forgiveness, compassion and gratitude. That's what I have now for the Egyptian people. It's their turn to create a better life for themselves. That's what I have for all those who worked so diligently and died so unexpectedly to create our space program

And we need our balance today to be emotionally healthy and happy, to practice forgiveness and gratitude daily. I cannot live without this; I cannot be happy without this feeling that my spine represents my my good health and my heart represented my joy. It is the secret of a happy life.

Our Egyptian friends are making the great fight for some semblance of democracy after so many decades of authoritarian rule that most Egyptians cannot endure any more violations of their rights as human being. Our memory of one of the most difficult periods in our American history fills us with so much sadness that it is almost beyond bearing. And I don't think there is a week that goes by that I don't remember the tragedy of 9/11 and the untold loss of life and suffering.

How do we live with our sadness and disappointment and wishes for everyone to have a joyful life? I remember after 9/11, when I was taking yoga teacher training, that our master teacher reflected that only we as individual beings can take care of ourselves. We can balance the joy and pain, the yin and the yang, the opposing forces of energy in our life being if we are conscious of the balance of our energies and if we daily extend our generosity of spirit to all who are taking care of themselves.

Namaste

Joan

Forgiveness

Hi, Boomers,

Sad times for the nation at this moment. We are all consumed with tragedy. We are looking for something or someone to blame. It's only natural. Innocent people were killed by a young man who saw he world differently than a normal, functioning, rational being. It happens too often in our world. The taking of human life has very little meaning in some parts of the world, even our world, our America. Since 1982, when the shooter was born, there have been something like ten other shootings by young men whose only rational thought was, "You're not making the world the way I think it should be."

I remember when 9/11 occurred in 2001. I was taking yoga teacher training at that time when the tragedy hit our nation with full force. We were all numb in class; we were waiting for some kind of direction from our teacher, Max Strom. We sat in silence for a long time in class. Speaking wasn't an option for any one of us. Max then reminded us that we couldn't do anything about this tragedy. He also reminded us that even though the deaths and destruction took place outside of us, we were still connected by divineness to everyone involved, including the high-jackers. What we could do in that moment in our yoga studio was to send our love and light to everyone affected by the tragedy, including the families of those who planned the attack because they had lost their sons in a futile effort to make the world into what they wanted it to be.

It is difficult to forgive when one follows an ideology to the letter, when one fantasizes that acts of terror will change people's minds and hearts. Ideologies promote the "you're wrong and I'm right" mindset that is so very destructive to societies. Everyone has opinions and everyone has the right to that opinion, but it is unlikely that people and societies who espouse their ideas will force others to conform. It's a useless supposition. It is a perception out of whack with human nature.

I had a sweet moment with my dear friend and fellow yogini on Sunday that brought the day and a half of non stop angst to somewhat of a normal level. Annie had read my book, Sixty, Sex, & Tango, Confessions of a Beatnik Boomer - in fact, she is in the book - but she had to let me know how important my last chapter was to her. The chapter is called, "Calm To The Core." It begins with a tex message from a Chinese royal named Hong-Shi (1704- 1727).

"When zen practice

is completely developed,

there is no center,

no extremes;

There are no edges or corners

it's perfectly round, frictionless"

The last section in the book is subtitled: "Forgiving is a Bitch"

It begins: "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

It's challenging and completely exasperating to forgive someone. Annie struggled for years with forgiveness. It wasn't until her parents had finally passed away that she was able to come to grip with her anger and hostility toward them. She still struggles with forgiveness - there are good days and bad days - but the section on forgiveness has given her a deeper insight in the mantra of forgiveness and how it is so important for us all because it enables us to move on in lives. If we don't forgive, we never move forward, achieve change or transformation.

I wrote about 9/11 and wondered if that act is forgivable. Now, I wonder about Tucson and I wonder if that is forgivable, too. I wonder if it is possible to separate the actual horrific acts from the perpetrators who are flawed and psychically sick. I think it is possible and I think it is difficult. But if I do not forgive others, I cannot forgive myself. I will always keep my inner anger inside myself and it will prevent me from living a truthful and honorable life. For me, the essence of forgiveness is a spiritual practice through which I can acquire clarity and stay close to my inner truth. To forgive is to be filled with grace, honor, and dignity.

Hate never yet dispelled hate. Only love dispels hate.

Namaste

The divine in me recognizes the divine in you.

Joan

Food For Thought

Hi, Boomers,

Happy Birthday! The first of the boomers turned 65 as of January 1, 2011. Hard to believe, isn't it. We always thought that we would be young forever. Social Security? Medicare? Not us! Boomers don't age. The first of of were born in 1946, and for the next 19 years, about 10,000 boomers will cross that threshold every day. Most of us will hold off the thought of turning 65 through exercise or Botox or face lifts or liposuction. And we will never cede our youth to calendar years or statistics.

However, the fact remains that seventy-nine million baby boomers, about 26 percent of the U.S. population and there is no turning back the clock. So what is interesting about this statistic is that boomers will all march into their 60's with varying degrees of acceptance.

Certain buzz words may sting worse than the chronological number of 65. "Old," "older" stings. What about social security or medicare? Ouch! That means I'm included in an aging population. Sixty-five is usually associated with the "R" word - retirement. We're young, for God sake, and retirement means I'm old, therefore, obsolete. No one wants me. I'm invisible in society. I'm the last to be waited on at the cosmetic counter.

Retirement stings - either forced or voluntary. Of course, some of us won't speak of retirement because our savings are are not what we thought they would be at 65 and we have to continue working; some of us will continue to show up for work out of fear that we might be left behind at 65. It's important to remain relevant and hip and with it and part of the fabric of our community. We don't want to turn into unfulfilled, self-absorbed boomers who are racked with self-pity. Some form of work provides identification to our psyches. Most of us won't want to exit the job force at 65 or 66 and sit in contemplation until the end of our life - except my therapist who chooses to do so.

Since the last of the boomers to turn 65 will do so in 1964, it is not clear that we can ascribe a cogent set of characteristics to the entire boomer generation. I was born three years before the first set of boomers were born, but I do lump myself in to the boomer generation because I'm not typically a World War II baby. My frame of reference growing up includes all that is typical and familiar to that those born in 1946. I was raised in a more nurturing, child oriented environment. I could be seen and heard in polite society. Dr. Benjamin Spock was my mother's guru. While I learned something of human relationships via the television, I was treated to the finer subtleties of life through the movies. Yet, I wasn't captivated by marketing or advertising and never begged my mother endlessly to buy me an angora sweater or a poodle skirt. Because my parents were still old-school when it came to raising children, I wasn't convinced that the way to get through adolescence was through rebellion. "Rebel Without A Cause" was not my favorite movie. I was taught that one worked very hard to get what wanted or needed and kept a keen eye on book learning. There were no free lunches in my world.

Of late, there has been a lot of talk about the depressed state of boomers. Perhaps those boomers born later were fed the "entitlement" line - as in I'm entitled to my large pension, to my full 401K, my bailout, my medicare, my social security - were heavily disappointed when it came time to cash in or cash out. "Show me the money!" Well, guess, what? The money isn't all there, along with the expectation, the demand, the freedom of choice. Today, these are not always options in our lives. Maybe boomers thought all that "stuff" would keep us young and carry us forward to our heavenly resting place. And it's a pity that for some of us that it didn't pan out like that, but it's not the end of our boomer world.

The end of the world is thinking that we are still entitled to our fair share even though we might have made some bad money decisions, even though we might have been let go from our jobs before their expiration date, even though our economy tanked two years ago or more if we were just paying attention. Life is not always a level playing field.

I'm still working. I'm even planning to create other sources of income. I'm still excited by life at 67. At 67 my parents were still building homes and condos and apartment buildings. I remember them being so very young at 67 that I couldn't imagine them getting old and they really never did get old because life was still a joyous ride for them until the end. Those two people married during the depression and persevered to make their lives better and richer and more creative. And they set the example. They were the gold standard.

So boomers are young and vital still. It's a mind set and a vocation to be 65. If we are settled financially, we can volunteer and give back and make the lives of others more fulfilling. There is joy in enriching our lives at any age at any time. If we lack access to full funding for our later years, we can create many positives in our life. I just read an article about a Los Angeles poet who got laid off from her job at a museum and is now blogging about stories of people who have lost their jobs but who are making positive contributions to their lives by working differently and making a difference. We all possess tenacity and creativity if we just look deeper within ourselves.

Boomers don't have to make a wholesale redefinition of growing older. We are any age at any time as long as we don't buy in to labels, to statistics, to depression, to the mantra of the bad news on television. Turn off the sound and listen to your heart. That is where eternal youth resides.

Namaste

Joan

My Tao

Hi, Boomers,

It's Christmas day. It's quiet and everyone is napping except my son. He and I are watching the Lakers game. I'd love to be in the stands at Staples Center and watch the game with Miami up close and in personal. My sons have season tickets but they live in Las Vegas at the moment. They've been going to Laker games since they were in grammar school in Beverly Hills when their physical education coach took them to their first games. Even though they can't see the Lakers play at Staples regularly (they sell the tickets when they don't use them), they have vowed to keep the season tickets into eternity. Every once in awhile I got to see a game with one of my sons. I love basketball and I love the Lakers.

It's a peaceful day. I still feel the joy of being in Park City with my oldest son and his family - my three grandsons from and my wonderful daughter in law. This morning I took them to the airport to catch a flight to Florida to be with their other grandparents. Last night we had a family dinner with #2 son and his family - and another grandson and baby granddaughter - and it rocked with energy. Son #2 made a fabulous meal - he's an unbelievable chef - and I sat back in my chair with a glass of red wine and thought how blessed I have been in my life. For months now I have been astounded at the joy I have felt. For so long, my journey has felt like a bumpy road; but lately, it's been quite smooth. Is it my age - an arrival of some kind of wisdom? Is it the decades of putting one foot in front of another to keep my life moving in a positive direction? Is it finally that I have slowly realized that I have been so blessed with a sense of gratitude that life truly is peaceful?

The practice of my tao, my journey of truth consists in daily losing. I accept this idea of loss because it is in my surrender to it the loss that I stay conscious, offer gratitude, release attachments, and find balance in yin and yang of all that makes up my life.

The end of a year gives all of us the opportunity to pause and reflect about the state of our being, our souls, and to connect with ourselves in a more profound sense. In meditation, we learn to empty our minds and resist the impulse to fill ourselves up with needless thoughts and judgments, which only cause anxiety and stress. In the final days up to the end of the year, I find that clearing the mind of the unnecessary thoughts leads me to clear intentions in the days ahead.

As I bring in each new year, it has been my habit to celebrate the wonderful experiences of the past year and to note the losses as a positive learning experience. Then, I look forward to bringing in this new year with a sense of excitement and anticipation and positive energy. And I renew with conviction to my family and dear friends and to my devotion to yoga and meditation.

A happy new year to all.

Namaste

Joan