I am back! Do you think I’ve been missed me out there in blogging land.  I was beginning to think I might have misplaced my passport.

The sun has begun to rise again in my sky. Three weeks of deep transformation, followed by six plus more of deep processing and integration. No, I was not depressed but how often someone’s deep “work” is mistaken for the d word.

It all began on my birthday, the 31st of January in New York City… I began to crash through illusions and into the grief of their loss. I coughed and wheezed violently for ten days and wasn’t sick. More and more of the unmourned began to enter into my night and then my day. All night I would dream, endless dreams and then during the day I needed to rest from the unslept night. I didn’t feel depleted, but rather just had no reserve of energy to expend on anything that drained my spirit. Anything that was not for my highest good did not happen.

I am back in my life and I am altered. In the past this sort of an “interlude” might have frightened me, but not this one. Who knows about the future ones, right? Ultimately we only know about now…this moment and this experience. What I can say is merely that I am so grateful to be alive, exploring my present and how I will express that in the world that we all one with.

Respectfully and intimately shared.

A few nights ago I went to my first yoga class in maybe nine years.  An email arrived offering the Tuesday class at 7:30 P.M. right here in Hollywood.  The teacher, a young actress, is just lovely, and offering her first classes.  My fingers hit the reply button and I was committed, well, at least to the first one at a very modest financial investment.

I arrived after the six-minute drive, parked on wide-open Hollywood Blvd, grabbed my brand new pink mat and found the front door.  That mat had been paying rent in the trunk of my car for at least two years, and still had the tags from Marshall’s hanging from the black band.

The “studio” is the sweet living room of a very traditional Hollywood bungalow from the 1920’s, actually the home of Clara Bow. You could feel how much had happened in this excellent place.  There were already five lovely twenty-somethings on their mats ready to go.  I laid the “pink lady” out far to the left and took off my socks.  Get the picture of this overweight, ancient woman struggling to the floor?  We were subsequently joined by two other twenty-somethings, one male and now 8 women.

After the first simple moves and a few OM’s I knew I was in trouble.  Downward Dog was not happening for me.  This was either going to be a night of humiliation or deep humility, if I could allow it.  My first thoughts were to gather my things and slip back out to Hollywood Blvd.  I chose not to do that, and to just do what I could of the mudras and sutras and poses.  I sat quietly a lot.  I was quiet with eyes closed more than open, but most of all I was happy to be there. There was no one to compete with, no place to go other than inward.   My body was engaged, my heart was centered and my soul happy to be just where it was, home with Clara Bow, a silent film star of the 1920’s.

P.S.  Since that night, less than a week ago, I have taken some steps.  The group teacher is now my private teacher, and I have a little baby yoga practice i.e., downward dog is a puppy, and tree is a sapling. I plan to keep going to the group class.

Yesterday was Alice’s birthday.   She celebrated her 95th with her son Terry, our mutual friend Jim, and yours truly.  I was honored and privileged to be invited to join this formidable gang.

Jim introduced me to Alice about three years ago and I began lunching with her every few months.   I love Alice!   For years I’ve searched for a role model, if there really is such a thing, to match my style of aging.

Alice lives independently in a senior apartment building where she can walk to and from stores and services.   She is little, actually a tiny woman, maybe 4 foot 8 and weighs about 11 pounds.   Her dressing style is really stunning… mostly from consignment shops and she never throws a thing away.  Last night for her birthday she had on black silk slim pants, a gorgeous bronze metallic blouse and fabulous gold earrings.  Often when i pick her up for lunch, she is wearing a blazer and shirt with the collar and cuffs turned up.

Alice laughs!!!  She finds life a delight and engages in spirited conversations. Her resilience is palpable and i would say she lives with an enormous light turned on in her soul.  My friend Alice has no pretensions… what you see is what you get.  She is open with her generosity and gratitude.   Surely one day Alice will just not wake up from her night’s sleep and then she will be lighting other realms.

In the Spring of 2009, I shared Easter Sunday with Alice.  We went to Church with Jim and the three of us took communion together.  A friend of ours is a Minister at this Church and as the three of us stood huddled and hugging he was totally focused on our Alice.  She looked up from her tiny stance with sweet tears rolling down her cheeks as Reverend Tim embraced Alice with his love and his words.  I cried too.

My love for Alice is almost not understandable.   She is certainly not some mother substitute nor a substitute for anything… she is just Alice.  I feel this purity in myself when we are together. we laugh like girlfriends, chatter like pre-teens and appreciate each other’s journey.

This is the purity that I wish for all at this time of celebration and love.   Happy holidays and a bravo New Year.

Blessings, Harriett