I arrived at my old Manhattan apartment building on West 82nd Street a bit after 1 am this morning.   Surprisingly, the harsh chill that I had expected from a NYC winter, that often lingers long into April, was absent.  Instead, I arrived to temperatures in the 50's and a week that promises to be temperate and mostly sunny.  

It is strange.  Often times when I return to NYC in the winter (especially after having been in a warm Southern California climate) there is such a feel of hardened hurry that is reflected in the landscape around me --- brown walls of old snow, a leafless Central Park, and a mob of people running from taxis and subways to get out of the cold as soon as possible.  Not this time.  This time there was another feeling in place.  I felt strangely warm and welcomed and not rushed in the least.  On the contrary, my cab ride was smooth and pleasant, and at this moment, I don't feel that wall of push that says, "go, go, go."  All of this beggars the question, "Did New York change while I was away, or did I?"  This next week will be very telling.  In the meantime, I'm very glad to be back and looking forward to the adventures still to come in this beloved City that feels as if it is about to burst with Spring.

Later today I am flying to New York City.  For years, I have gone back and forth between living in Los Angeles and living in New York City, though as of late, I have not been back as often as I would like.  The City welcomes me with activity and familiar places, while at the same time, slapping me wide awake with reality (and in March, with cold).  Yet, each time I go back to the City that first opened its arms to me and started me on a path that I would not change for the world, I am grateful.  There are certain phases of my life that could not have been complete without New York City.  There are friends who have become family who greet me with a warmth and familiarity that truly makes me wish that I could live in two places at once.  NYC, today I come home.  It's not a long visit, but as always, it will be filled with adventure, opportunity, and love.

A dear friend of mine has been visiting with me for a few days from Central Florida.  Today, she goes back home and we must say "goodbye."  This is a friend who has always kept me laughing at myself and who has helped me to keep my feet on the ground when my mind has wandered too far from "what is."  I am thankful for her presence in my life and the words we share between us, the ones with which I agree and, even more so, the ones with which I do not agree.  To me, that is a good friend.

We had a conversation this week in which she asserted that, in terms of quality of friendship, she has received more from me than I have received from her, and in which I asserted the opposite.  She listed all of the examples of things from our friendship that have enriched her life and, likewise, I listed all of the ways in which my life has been better because of her presence in it.  Ultimately, we had to agree to disagree on this point.  The level of appreciation for one another is quite high and it shows in all that we continue to do together after 24 years of friendship.  Today, as I say "goodbye" to her, I take solace in the knowledge that she will always think I have added to her life in some way that is comparable to the way in which she has added to mine.  She is a good friend and I am very thankful for her.

This morning a hawk was circling about the hill in front of the office window.  For about five minutes, it flapped and sailed around.  It hugged the side of the hill reaching out its wings as if the feathers were a paintbrush coloring the green and white bushes beneath it.  I don't know what it was looking for or what was keeping its attention, but I enjoyed the aerial show.  

The hawk seemed to be on a mission that was unhurried and stress free.  At times, she would let the wind currents simply lift her up and she would rise higher into the air, seemingly with no intended destination.  Today, I have set for myself the goal to be like the hawk --- to simply let the current pick me up and see where it takes me, keeping my arms outstretched and not being overly concerned with the destination.  The thought of it makes me smile.

I get the opportunity to work with a variety of people who are in various stages of relationship change.  Some are looking for new romance, some to go to the next level of their current relationship, some to save a relationship, and some who are in mourning and grieving the loss of a relationship.  Much of our initial conversations are about the object of my client's desire, frustration, or sadness --- the other person.  Ultimately, the conversation always has to come back to the client themselves, to take a look at the client's responsibility, patterns, fears, and obstacles.

This is a powerful place to visit because there is very little anyone can do about another person's thoughts, feelings, or actions, but there is a great deal that we can do about our own.  It is from this powerful place that new perspectives, growth, and change can enter into a person's life.  Time and again, I have had the experience of watching a client change something in his or her personal life, only to have it followed by a change in their current relationship status.  It is fulfilling, satisfying, and inspiring to watch this experience unfold.  It is re-affirming to see the power of personal choice change the landscape of interpersonal relationships.

I am consistently reminded of this possibility in my own life on a daily basis.  Thank you to my clients and friends who constantly teach me the power of change that comes from the inside out.

Last night, I had a unique experience.  I've always enjoyed flying by the seat of my pants.  Whether traveling and not knowing where I am going or where I will be staying for the night, or improvising with a room full of singers or jazz musicians, or doing a little psychodrama with improvisational actors, or being asked to speak about a particular subject about which I am familiar but for which I have not done any formal preparation.  The experience of "being in the moment" with life, not knowing exactly how things are going to turn out, has always thrilled me.  Last evening's events was one of those moments.

Over in Venice (California) behind the funky, eclectic, culturally cool street of Abbott Kinney is an experimental theatre space called, "The Electric Lodge."  On the first Monday of every month for ten months out of the year and for the price of $10, they open the doors on an event called, "Max 10."  The name for the event comes from the fact that there are a maximum of ten performances that can perform for a maximum of ten minutes.  I've become familiar with The Electric Lodge over the past couple of months and I was invited to be a part of last night's performance.  The intention of the night is to share brave, new, experimental work in front of an audience.  I've been working with a concept to combine my inspirational coaching work with the steps and writing from my book using the spontaneous nature of jazz in conjunction with the Great American Songbook and a few original compositions (seems like a lot even to me, so you can see why it is called, "experimental").  Last night I shared two pieces from this concept and it was thrilling.  In terms of direction, it clarified some things for me.  In terms of courage, it opened a doorway for me.  I don't know where the concept will go from here, but I am extremely thankful for the ten minutes that I had to share something creatively that has been brewing inside of my heart and mind for a long while.  It was extremely freeing and I am exceedingly grateful.

This morning, I came into the office and sat, as usual, looking out the window, measuring my breathing, letting my mind wander about a bit exploring what I might write.  The ticking of the clock on the wall became more consciously audible, the low murmur of the electronic equipment around me seemed to become noisier, and it seemed the mass of birds that surround the house were singing, screaming and screeching louder than usual.  I even had to step outside for a moment and look around at the birds as they were so unusually active, just to see if anything out of the ordinary was happening. 

The sunlight was creeping over the east hill behind the house and all around green parrots and a variety of other birds swooped about.  The morning chill was abrupt and stimulating.  For a few moments I stood, smiling.  Then, back to my desk with a bit of inspiration in my mind and body.  The inspiration came not from the clock, the electronics, or even the birds.  It came from the silence of my mind.  Before I had stopped to listen, I had thoughts in my head that were too noisy to allow me to hear what was going on around me.  I realized my head was already so full of my own inner chattering that I had not heard the sounds of "early morning waking" in my canyon home.  And, et, within less than a minute and only a few short breaths, my attention and my consciousness changed.  I became of aware of my environment and that awareness brought a smile to my face.

This is a reminder to stop several times throughout the day and do nothing other than breathe and become aware.  No external circumstance has to "make me happy."  No wish has to come to fruition.  I simply have to make the time and the "inner space" to be in the moment.  Now, how do I remember that throughout the rest of the day???

After a period of intense "running around," whether it be from work, play or simply life in general, I feel that I need some quiet time.  For me, quiet time is not being plopped in front of the television (though I do enjoy a good plopping), or relaxing with friends, but truly some quiet time.  I like to divest my environment of people, things to do, technology and distractions.  This little break from "the real world" is enough for me to recharge my battery and come back to work and play refreshed and renewed.  Like the picture that is the header of this website  and the photo cover of my book, I like to have some time simply to look off in the distance and allow my mind to wander and my body to rest.  Usually, it is during these times that the greatest inspirations have the "space" to enter my mind and leave an impression in my consciousness.