The Embodiment Of Voice

holographI had only been living in LA for about a year when I met Marc Miranda. A new friend, a compelling conversation and a simple request further led me down a path that was clearly evolving into my life’s work….the exploration of health & wellness from every angle imaginable — holistic, alternative, complementary, East/West, call it what you will — I perked up every time I talked about it, not unlike a sunflower that resolutely follows the sun. Continue reading

You Are Your Health: Healing in the 21st Century

TODDSIMONAs I grow and explore both personally and professionally, it has become increasingly clear to me that life is about choices. Daily, we make a decision to either drift through life in an ordinary way, or we decide to experience ourselves and our world in a way that connects us to the vast expanse of all that is possible in order to experience our highest potential. Continue reading

What Constitutes An Amazing Woman?

brainmessages2When Marsh Engle posed this question, what immediately came to mind was a poem that my brother gave me about 10 years ago. If you’re not familiar with the work of  Mary Anne Radmacher, I highly recommend that you google her.  In the meantime, here is the poem…and my musings of what AMAZING WOMAN’S DAY means to me.

‘she lives’

she dances. she sings. she takes. she gives. she serves. she loves and creates. she dissents. she enlivens. she sees. she grows. she sweats. she changes. she learns. she laughs. she sheds her skin. she bleeds on the pages of her days. she walks through walls. she lives with intention. mary anne radmacher Continue reading

2 Years, 2 Weeks & 1 Doggie Llama

Tugger2Two years ago mid-May, I woke up in a fog. It was dark gray, stubborn and I couldn’t shake it no matter how much coffee I drank, how much yoga I did, how much sleep I got, or how many roses or massages my lover bestowed upon me.  And it was getting progressively darker…approaching blackout.

My intuition led me to a few healers on the Westside and I landed in a doctor’s office, told I had a litany of dis-eases …and that they were all TOTALLY REVERSIBLE. Continue reading

What If…Healing is the application of love to places that hurt?

openheartWhat a difference a year makes…and the irony that I chose to see the movie, “Love and Other Drugs” with my Mom over the Thanksgiving holiday isn’t lost on me.

You see, last year at this time I was in hell – pure, unadulterated hell. Having suffered with both Depression and an Eating Disorder since the age of 11, being ‘sick’ was something I had become rather adept at…and not because it served some higher purpose or unmet need. I just always felt tired and not quite right and then seemingly out of nowhere I would get hit by extreme exhaustion every 5 years or so and be subsequently sidelined for months at a time. When this last bout hit, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to face the inevitable darkness again. Continue reading

Creative Orgasms

CREATIVEORGASMSBLOGPOSTWe all have them…an intuitive knowing, an aha moment, a spiritual awakening. Embrace them, nourish them and if you feel so inclined, share them with the world! You never know who might need to read or hear your juicy tidbit. Me? I usually ‘marinate’ in mine and then implement it in some way — via written word, designing jewelry or I put it into practice as a psychotherapist. Continue reading

Healing is a Journey: May 19th

Wooden BridgeSo where do I begin? With the seedlings of my eating disorder and the unearthing of my depression? Or do I start in the present moment where there is hope, grace, clarity, love, gratitude and peace of mind. Well, Thich Nhat Hanh would say “all we have is the present moment” so I think I’ll just seize it.

Ironically (or not so in my universe) I lost my voice last Friday – my last day of a life-changing trip to MIRAVAL in Tucson, AZ. I had experienced MIRAVAL with a man I was dating back in 2001 but this time was different in myriad ways. I am different. Not only am I older but I am much more open, willing and free-spirited. Continue reading