Sneezing, snarfing and coughing, OH MY...

Dear Oprah,

I was drawn to this cat. I was thinking about adopting but knew it wouldn't happen unless my ass was kicked into it. Little did I know that there was a woman at the studio at which I teach that was about to start a new journey overseas with the love of her life and had to give up her THREE feline loves that I really started to think, hey, maybe I should get a cat. Traditionally, I'm allergic. I've cat sit for my clients and friends and my family has two cats for which I used to have the usual itching and sneezing, but for some reason...sometime after the Master Cleanse, I was sort of 'cured' from these allergies. I still get general irritation, but none of note.

I was told about this one cat and I thought, I have to meet it.

I'm a girl, seeing about a cat.

I met her a few days ago, in the middle of one of my most stressful days about Los Angeles. As soon as I met this thing, nothing mattered. Hair was everywhere, but everything else went to the side.

I told the owner I'd think about it but we both knew I'd be comin' back tomorrow, in the midst of yet another helacious day to pick this thing up and call it my own.

I had dreams about her.

I thought about her constantly. But I knew. She was not another dress I could return.

I knew. She would be my life for years. That is what scared me the most.

I can care for plants but I can travel whenever I want and not care a lick if they get dry. They'll be better when I get back. I love taking care of others but it's usually on my own terms.

To decide, fully and completely, to take ownership of an animal. To care for it and nurture it...it scared the f-ing crap out of me.

It's not an it. It is a being that has already had ten months of life without me. I might feed and nurture it but it will have to work with me. We will have to work together. I'm not certain I'm up for it.

And here I am, after a day that lasted 16 hours. Two days straight with 5 hours of sleep. I'm tired and spent and I've spent most of my weeks earnings spoiling this thing I don't even know yet. She cried when I took her away, hid under the bed when I brought her home. I keep talking to her like she's gonna answer me. I'm sneezing and wiping away hair. I'm exhausted. I've never been happier. I have no freeekin' idea what's going to happen next. If she's ever gonna come out from under the bed. She's peeked out a few times then hurried back. I don't even know her name yet, but have toyed with a few. I love her and I don't even know her.

When I was calling around to make doctor's appointments, the financial commitment seemed extensive. I called my mom. She told me to forget about this cat and get a cat from the shelter where they would spay for virtually nothing. Well, I don't know how they do it in NY, but here, the rules are different and here, I knew that if I didn't take this cat, I wouldn't go looking for another. I met this cat. I wanted this cat. Sneezes and all. This baby was mine. And most importantly, I was hers. I am going to spoil this little thing and love it abundant.

I don't know how to do any of it. What food it likes or anything. But I'll do what I think I should, take it to get checked, try some different food out, some different names out and love it almighty.

I'm a pet owner now and I knew that my life would change today.

I'm terrified. But, I'm excited.

It's not a dog or a fish or a bird. It's a cat. My cat. And I'm allergic to her. And it seems, she's allergic to me. And we'll figure it out. Like life.

You never know. You just never know.

meow,

Laurie

Gratitude...

Dear Oprah,

I am very thankful for one certain friend.

At the end of each day, I write her five things I have been grateful for.

At the beginning of each day, she writes me five things she is grateful for.

It keeps us accountable to do this list.

It keeps us grateful.

And it keeps us connected.

After setting the intention at the beginning of the day and sending my gratitude at the end of the day, no matter what happens in between, I have those decisions to make that puts everything in perspective and balance.

Perhaps you do this with your best friend, Gayle King. Perhaps its something you'd like to try.

There are times I get stumped and I really have to reach, especially if stress is high or my mood is low. But it's important, even if you have to reach, to find the purpose behind each action in the day and to find the gratitude you have for that action. Even if your actions are rote or banal. Reaching to find the goodness in it, how your actions benefit others in some way, can help off set the things that can get you down.

Just a thought. A good one I think. And one that I am grateful for.

Be brilliant,

Laurie

Giving hurts sometimes...

Dear Oprah,

I'm such a Virgo. I live in my car. And by that, I mean, I'm in my car more than my expensive Santa Monica apartment, but I live in my car so that I can afford my expensive Santa Monica apartment. And by that, I mean, I drive a whole freekin' lot to get to my clients all around this great city. I love teaching. Loooooove it. The driving...not so much. Ok, and it's not THAT expensive. But bein' a single chica in LA is just plain expensive.

But, I digress.

I'm always prepared for when hunger hits. If you are hungry, come to me as I always have a snack handy. And they are always healthy. I know. I'm like a mom, without the kid.

But, I digress. Where is she going with this? Stay with me.

I was driving up Highland in Hollywood, crossing Melrose and I was at the light. I saw a homeless man. It was hot. He had a cardboard sign. He was sweating. So was the homeless man. Ba dum bum. Homeless humor. It gets worse. He looked tired and hungry. I rolled down my window and tossed him two of my tasty, well packaged store bought goods. My cash wasn't handy and I thought fast. I was in a good mood and thought I could be of service.

He kicked one of the snacks into the street and picked up the other one and threw it back at me saying words I wouldn't even say to someone I felt disgust for. What a waste.

It made me feel bad.

And I was hungry.

Really Oprah, I just had to vent this one out.

Still hungry,

Laurie

Intention

Dear Oprah,

The moment I wake up,

before I put on my make up,

I set a little intention.

I know, you thought I was going to sing again.

No more songs. But I do set an intention. Just before I sprint out of bed and start my day, I savor a moment or two, not to set a goal, but to set the tone for the day.

I want to feel calm today.

I don't want little things to bother me today.

I want to see my dad in the details today.

I want to do everything for others today.

I want to smile at everyone I see today.

Just to use examples.

It's a small thing, but really powerful, because when the day gets ahead of me, I get frustrated or sad, I remember my intention, and everything gets put back in perspective.

As long as I can align myself with what I set out for in the day, I can reign myself in when the urge to road rage hits, again, for example only.

Today, my intention is to move slowly through the day. I know it's a busy one, so instead of running here and there, I will move a little slower. I will still go the speed limit and then some, but I won't let the 'rush' take over.

Writing down your intention is good. It puts it out there.

Maybe even having a little intention journal at the side of your bed so you can write it down first thing and reflect on it last thing before going to bed.

Just sayin'.

Hey, even the great Oprah needs advice some time, right.

Have a beautiful day.

-Laurie

Santa Monica....

I had to leave you this morning and it made me sad.

But Santa Monica, oh, Santa Monica, when I came home, you looked so good, I wanted to cover you in hot fudge and stick a big old spoon in ya and eatchya up.

You were so delicious with your fog and gloom that I just wanted to put you on top of a veggie burger and eatchya up.

I cleaned my apartment after my houseguest left and everything looked so beautiful, clean and still with the breeze and fog. I had a Santa Monicagasm.

I love this freekin' place. I run into people I know.

It's relaxing. It's walkable.

I should be the mayor, I love it so much.

That's all. Have a good day.

Oh, and I love teaching. I love it so dang much.

That's all. Have a good night.

Happy Birthday!

Dear Oprah,

Do you find yourself at more parties now than any other part of the year? Do you give more gifts now than the holidays? Ok, I know you just started your new season so you might have a lot of new and jazzy tricks up your sleeve, but for me, I feel that....

Apparently our parents were gettin' busy 'round wintertime. What else is there to do when it's snowing in most parts of the country? What else would explain so many September births? Perhaps I'm just noticing it more this year.

There is a birthday everyday this week as I find more Virgos and Libras comin' out of the woodwork in my life.

My neighbor's birthday is today and when I came home after a long day, with bags in my hand, having marked the two month anniversary of my dad's death, heat racing through my veins, even in Santa Monica, it's so freekin' hot. No, I'm not gonna bring it down, but tears were streaming down my face. I was listening to a Snow Patrol album, nothing too intimate there, but alas, I found a song to trigger the emotions I have that are not so deep anymore, not so deep, but deep enough.

I had a long freekin' week with very little sleep. The anniversary just set me over the top.

I saw my neighbor with birthday balloons and gifts lining her door like a dorm room in college. It made me smile on the inside even though I was sweating so much I could smell myself.

She came out of her apartment, full of energy, saw my face and just gave me a hug. No questions asked. She thanked me for the gift and card I left at her door at the butt crack of dawn.

She told me that on this day, her 45th birthday, even though she didn't look a day over 21, that she wanted to send messages and give gifts to all of the people that meant something to her. Her greatest gift on her birthday would be to give to others in order to celebrate her life. She didn't want parties or plans, maybe a little cake and goodies, but what she wanted more than anything was to spend time with the people she loved to make sure that they knew she loved them.

When I had my birthday party a few weeks ago, people showed up and I felt the love. I hope they felt the love back. I know that for me, I might not have needed the extravagance of a party but I definitely needed to know that I was loved and supported during the hardest part of my life. I didn't know how much I needed people to just show up.

Showing up.

To show up, means a lot.

We all need and we all give. We don't need a birthday to remind us that we are loved or to remind us to give. It is an everlasting flow of energy that we give and receive as soon as we are brought into this world and in my experience, even after we have gone.

My dad is gone and I feel his presence more than when he was alive. The gift that keeps on giving.

I'm not sure what that means. All I know is that if we need our birthday to remind us that we exist, so be it. It's what we do with our existence that matters. There are so many ideas, especially in Los Angeles, on what success is. But to me, the successful person is the one that remains present in the lives of others to remind them of the importance of their existence in the world. Simple or complex? I don't know.

All I know is that I gave a gift to my neighbor and after a long day and week of challenges, on her day; she gave me the gift of love. She showed me love and purpose in my existence in life. Her life. All I did was arrive home. In tears, yes, but I arrived. And I was home. Not too difficult. Sobbing and heavy with baggage, ethereal and physical. And we celebrated.

Life is so freekin' hard. And it's so easy, if we just let it be.

I only know hard. What if I just switched my focus to believe things could be easy? Birthday easy. No plans, cake, chucky cheese, skee-ball easy.

One of my dearest friends...his birthday is tomorrow. We talked for a good long time. A time we haven't had in a long time and I felt like I got a greater gift then me calling or sending a card. To talk to him, made my day. He saw my life and within minutes, put it in a perspective that I couldn't see because I was too ‘in my life’ to see it. And I was just calling to wish him a happy birthday. Happy to him. Happy to me. Happy.

Dear Oprah, I notice that there is a birthday everyday (especially with Facebook) with at least someone I know well or not so well. Reaching out is difficult but can be a pleasant gift for the giver and the receiver.

I'm getting old.

So are you, but I don't have nearly as great lighting around me that you do. Or do I?

I don't have a super set. I don't get paid a ton of money, but the people I know are ridiculously valuable. I owe them a debt of gratitude for their existence in my life.

And for that I say, Happy Birthday, to everyone, for being there, being here and being, every day.

Celebrate life…every day.

And let them eat cake!

~Laur

Time to make the donuts

It's just an honor to be nominated

Dear Oprah,

I know this is going to sound strange, but whenever I think about my Oscar speech, yes, I think of my family and friends and representation, but then my thoughts go to a support team that will sound odd to most but has brought me much so much joy, comfort and nutrition during the difficult and lean times that I can’t help but add it to the list.

Everyone knows that I have an obsession with food. I don’t think it’s an unhealthy one. Through much research, trial and error, I know my diet is the diet that keeps me happy, satisfied, satiated and energized through the day. My clients and students love when I bring them new and healthy alternatives to their favorite snacks and dishes that I am more than happy to spend my time researching and ah, hem, sampling all goodies that are good for you too.

And for that, I must write this ode to an old favorite… and a new find.

Gosh I love the ellipse…

I hope you enjoy…

I’ve spent a lifetime with you. We have had some happy times. You have been there for me when I needed you as a comfort, a friend. I’ve loved you for so long and so true. I thought you were the one. I had no idea that when I got out there in the world that there might be others to tempt me away from you. I now know, dear Skippy that we were not meant to be. You are filled with additives and fats that are unhealthy. I’ve tried other brands, powdered, omega infused, but alas, I was disappointed with the after effects, the bad taste in my mouth or other unmentionables. Till one day, I found, PB2. Oh, peanut butter. Oh, Skippy. Oh, Jiff. Oh, Naturally More (with less calories, more fiber and omegas, but you have to stir and that’s…just…unacceptable), oh, Better than Peanut Butter (simply too sweet). All of you have served your purpose in the moment, but mostly on my thighs. I’m grateful for being full, but I have found the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. PB2.

Ok, it’s dried. You have to add water. But it’s packed with protein and just a mere 53.2 calories per two tablespoons.

I count my calories, but now you are speaking my language. To get it so precise. So, decimal. Now you are just turning me on. 1.87 grams of fat. Just stop!!

PB2…you are sweet, salty, and perfect.

You can be found on-line, even better and worth the shipping. You are so easy to travel with, even to India. Ok, I haven’t been, but I can bring you there, no problem.

You can be spread on an apple or a La Tortilla Factory low carb tortilla. You make me happy.

It’s the little things, people. Yes, you can call me crazy, but you’ll be askin’ me for a sample the next time I see you.

And let’s be honest, I think everyone was getting a little bored with me writing about my dad.

Peanut Butter (PB2) and me, perfect together.

On another food note, Kitchadi, which is a light and nutritious balancing Indian dish is something I eat everyday. It keeps me moving, if you know what I mean, is yummylicious and is a great base to add your favorite vegetables or add as a side dish. Made the right way and eaten in a certain way, one can use this dish as a cleanse in a mono diet. Yessirree, just that, all day, every day, for several days. And with the guidance of the right Ayurvedic practitioner, he or she will add a variety of herbs and lifestyle choices to help the cleanse along. After a few days, you will feel just as good as if you Master Cleansed or did another weird cleanse but you won’t feel f-ed up. You will just feel good and + balanced!

Especially now that we are transitioning into a new season, yes, even in Los Angeles, we need to pay attention to the changes in our bodies. Ayurveda or ‘science of life’ is a system of traditional medicine native to India and practiced here in America as well, as a way of life, being and doing in a way that balances the system. Kitchadi is just part of the way of balancing the system, hot, cold, male, female, excited and sluggish. To put in the most simple terms. I am a big advocate of the food, which is basically basmati rice and a gang load of yummy spices. Eat it every day, not with your PB2, and you will feel satisfied and energized. You can’t imagine what I add to my Kitchadi kitchen. The dish is limitless in it’s ability to satisfy with variety.

I’m an ambassador for Ayurfoods and would be happy to give your more info, sell you some of the good stuff to try or make you a batch and bring it to our next class.

Food. Food. I love it. I make it everyday and often give it away.

I’ll make it for you, dear Oprah, if you’ll try it.

I haven’t seen too many shows of yours that actually talk about mindful and seasonal eating. I’d love to be your first guest talking about it. I’ve been overweight, on Weight Watchers, run marathons like you and loooooooove food. Can’t get enough of it. So there.

I thank all of the little people. And the peanut butter. And the Kitchadi. And of course, my family, friends and students, for stomaching another of my blogs. Pun intended. And finally, you, dear Oprah, for continuing to talk to strange people like Whitney Houston with a straight face.

Love ya,

Laurie

Phases of Mourning...

Dear Oprah,

I don't wanna bring things down here, but I'm still mourning, even though my life is back into full swing.

They say the phases of grieving a loved one is shock, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, depression, acceptance and hope.

I'm wondering, dear Oprah, if you have ever done a show that included the phase, retail therapy?

I'm not a shopper by nature. I don't like things. I'm more apt to purchase things that are disposable, food, travel, and flowers. Clothing has always been optional. Insert laugh here.

But lately, I find myself wandering in and out of stores, picking up things that I know I will use, maybe I won't use, must have, really want, not sure about, might return, oh my God, LOVE and the list goes on.

I just hit another birthday and it is September. Nostalgia kicks in, Autumn is around the corner and I always tend to 'school shop' a little more around this time of year, getting new digs for a new year, new semester, new life without my dad?

Not sure about that last one.

I tallied up the inventory...cute clothes for out and about town, clothes for teaching, clothes for practicing, clothes for dating, YES, clothes for auditioning and new bedding, yum.

The total price tag was shockingly low...used coupons, discount cards, gift certificates and certificates that I get in the mail 'cause I sign up for 'em adding my birthday so I get 10-20-50% off stuff when September rolls around.

I usually feel guilty when I buy stuff for myself.

But now...

I feel pretty, oh so pretty.

I don't feel bad at all. And I'm not in debt...

Ok, maybe a little, but it's manageable as long as I don't continue this phase.

What would Suze Orman say?

What do you say?

I think it should be added to the phases of mourning.

My mom finally went out and bought new clothes for her gorgeous self.

'Bout time.

So did I.

Kath, my sis always does and always looks fabulous.

This is out of my nature.

I'm writing about it so I guess I'm thinking about its roots.

All I know is that I look good despite the many things that I have experienced as of late.

It's only a mask though, because when I come home, it doesn't matter what I look like, what I have, it's what's inside that makes me feel good.

I love my father. And yes, I'm speaking about him in the present.

I've thought more about calling him over the last week and a half then I have in a month’s time that passes so fluidly in a normal year.

I like that. I'm not sad about it.

I feel him everywhere, in the present.

I see him in the sun that sets here by the beach. As the pale yellow and blue bleed to deep orange and pink. I see him in the traffic. I hear him when I pass by a store on the 3rd Street Promenade, playing The Rolling Stones.

If anything, I feel him more around me then I ever did before.

I'm not happy he's gone from the physical world, but I'm happy he's everywhere, now.

Oprah, I'm not quite sure what you believe about the after life and the like.

I'm not sure what I believe.

All I know is that mourning, this process, has been crazy scary but also really cool.

I'm not excited by it, but I wonder about it and am aware of all of these feelings, like growing pains when you were a kid, adolescent and adult.

All the same feelings that I had everyday when he was alive are the same, but with a new twist.

It almost makes me feel younger, newer, fresher, because he's with me when I experience something that's banal and extraordinary.

Sort of like getting a new dress or top. It's a fleeting feeling of excitement, I know.

But I kind of feel it even when I do laundry, get a cup of coffee or walk along the shore.

All the same things I used to do before on autopilot, have a new co-pilot alongside me. Like I'm showing my dad my life here. One he's never seen in person.

Shopping might emphasize that joy. Or it might just be that I like shopping. Who knows?

All I know is that my sadness is shifting. It's still there but there's a presence with me while I feel it. Maybe it's a cotton/cashmere blend. Maybe it's my dad.

I wonder if you could explore these phases that aren't so defined by doctors, psychologists and the like.

I wonder.

Until then, I have a staggering pair of strappy sandals to don and a silk dress that wants to be taken out for a walk.

Sweet things,

Laurie

Song for Santa Monica

Dear Oprah,

I know you live in Chicago and part of me refuses to visit, 'cause I have a feeling I'd fall in love with your city and never wanna leave.

But here I am, in my favorite city in the world.

I wrote a song about it. I hope you like it. You can insert Chicago and it's nuances if you'd like and it'll still be super cute. Use it as a mantra when the city gets you down.

To the tune of...whatever you'd like...probably nothing hard, more folky, I'm feelin', maybe with a dance beat beneath. Just thinkin' out loud.

I'm so glad to be back in Santa Monica

I feel so good.

Things sucked today,

but I'm back in my hood.

I love to teach yoga,

don't you know?

If only I could be here more,

I'd thrive and grow.

Give me the beach, sun and sea.

I teach a funny, kick-ass yoga class and am also on TV.

I love Santa Monica.

I know she loves me.

I'd marry the city if I could.

She'll always take care of me.

I put her in my pocket as I journey across LA.

Come back home, reach in and I know I'm ok.

Cheesy, I know, but the album is gonna drop soon and it's gonna be a hit.

Probably a one hit wonder, but it's all I got.

Be brilliant,

Laurie

To my clients...

Dear Oprah,

I know you probably already know this, but I'm singling out my clients on this one.

Free samples at Whole Foods and Farmer's markets count when counting your calories! It's the sneaky things that add up. When you make food for your kid(s), chew on a piece of gum, suck a wedge of lemon or drink a glass of water whilst preparing. It will keep your mouth busy and not add up at the end of the day. Of course, you can tongue wag on the phone or with your spouse and that'll burn more calories then snacking while preparing a meal.

Just sayin',

Laurie

Hatha Vinyasa Flow with CreateYourHealth.com and Peter Bedard

Peter Bedard is a pioneer in the health care industry and has made health, fitness, body, mind and soul-care accessible and easy for people to learn and have fun with. Please check out his site when you have the time and enjoy our video!!

www.CreateYourHealth.com

smooches,

Laurie

Remember

Eight Years.
Never forget.

Cinderella and her Ford Focus Carriage...

I love my job. I love, love, love it.
But there is part of me that is longing to bring my life a little closer to home...to Santa Monica. I don't know what I have to do. What floors I have to clean or clothes I need to sew to get a class in this darn part of town. I've spent 7 years establishing myself as a teacher in NY, LA, even China...and You Tube.
I forgot about Coldwater today.
I forgot about school getting out.
I forgot about the traffic in LA.
Everytime I leave a client, I feel good, like I've done good. When I teach my public class in Hollywood, I am home (like NY and the city I grew up in) and I know I do good...so good that I lose my correct grammar. I do well.
Like I've done pretty for someone.
I feel pretty, oh so pretty. They feel pretty, oh so pretty.

Then I get back into my Ford Focus Pumpkin and I am back in rags, braving the roads, waiting for my fairy Godmother, Santa Monica, to come and carry me away to the land of princesses.
When I cross the threshold of 405 meets Sunset, I feel like I am human again, like my clothes are a little brighter, like I have glitter on my sleeve, like life is sweeter, like the squirrels and birds talk to me, ok, that's Snow White, and I remember how to curl my mouth into a smile.
No offense to any other part of the city.
I bet you I can tell you the best gas station to get a good deal, the best restaurant to get a quick meal, yummy salad or delicious soup, cookie or coffee. I know where to stop in and get a great card or gift.
There are people in Toluca Lake, Beverly Hills, Studio City, Santa Monica, W. LA, Venice, Bel Air, Santa Monica, that know me by name and greet me like I'm their old friend. I am comfortable in LA. I know this city like noone else I know.
I'm like my dad in NYC. He was a driver. All along the westside and east, uptown and down, he had his peeps. He had dry cleaners, bodega owners and coffee shop baristas know him by name.
I'm happy to carry on that legacy.
But, when he came home to my mom, to Daisy the dog, to his collection of books, to his palace, he was truly home.

I leave the black and white and return to my technicolor dream coat of Santa Monica, where everything is candy and yummy and happy and I feel enveloped in the hug that is my home (like NY, my mom, sisters, the dog and cat).

But, I am in rags, trying to make a name for myself.
I feel like I'm starting over.
In a way I am.
I want what I want. What I want happens to be what a lot of people want, but I know there is room for all of us.
My dad taught me that.
So....
while I know my teaching is like being at the grand ball, I know that I will feel truly complete with both glass slippers, one that places me freestyle throughout the city of LA, the other, here in Santa Monica, with my prince, Sir Yoga, at my side, gliding me along the studio floor, leading me through blissful classes with inspiring students in colorful (and expensive, no doubt) clothing.

Blogging...I can do anywhere. Love that.
I'm so grateful that I get to do what I love.
Now, let's go home.

The sidewalk is my runway...

Dear Oprah,
Hey girl, awesome first show. Remember Sex and The City? I know, who can forget. Well, tonight I lived a little of it.
Here goes...
Balmy night, compliments from God.
Gorgeous dress, compliments from a great boy.
Fabulous accessories, compliments from my sister.
Unbelievable shoes that carried me 15 city blocks in a confident stride without a trip or blister, compliments from Seychelles.
Super fab playlist on my iPod mini, compliments from Yoga teachers around the city, mini from my other fantastic sister.
Remarkable girl waiting for me at a ridiculous restaurant in Santa Monica, compliments from Molly.
Deep breath and large smile with great swagger and happy heart, compliments from my dad.
Memories,
Laughter,
sumptuous food,
great wine,
tuck hair behind ears,
laugh more,
spill great wine on friend,
share sad story about being home,
split food...much nicer than ordering whole meal for oneself.
Indulge in flourless chocolate cake and forget to do the math in calories.
I feel good, alive, happy, complete, content, filled...
love, compliments from....
life.
I'm so grateful.
I remember that show and how I felt when I watched it. So sad, so happy, so full of life.
I feel so darn special.
And it's complimentary.

How Laurie Got Her Groove back...

Dear Oprah,
Do you ever feel, after you've taken a break from the show, that you sometimes forget how it works, even after all these years?
So, I'm back, in LA.
I thought I'd move gently back into the schedule, but alas, what better way do I know than to hustle?
I've been trying to bring my life closer to Santa Monica for a year now and it feels like re-establishing my career all over again.
I'm taking yoga classes galore, introducing myself to teachers and asking if they need substitutes. That's how it rolls.
Substituting is a very humbling experience, especially for someone who has been teaching as long as I have. But it's tough to fill someone's bare feet, someone's class that has been built for months if not years and expecting that students will respond well to the newness of, well someone they are not familiar with.
And I know, not everyone is gonna like me. I'm sure you know what that's like right? I'm sure there are people that don't like you, right?

Personally, I love that shit.

I love exploring a different part of the room, a different teacher. I love mixing it up. I love the opportunity to fill in, like an understudy in a big Broadway show. Playing the part of...will be... and there I am, with the expectation, judgement, fear, nerves and excitement it brings along. You can't help but know that people expect something from you and then you are left giving only all you can give and hope they like that too.


There is a super popular teacher here in the land that I love. I asked if she needed a sub ever, to consider me. She said she would. But I didn't think I'd here from her. She probably has her peeps. I have my peeps and I don't really look for more than just them to fill my bare feet when I need. But, she called me the next day to fill in for her on Labor Day.
Sweet.
I haven't played music in my class in a long time because I record my classes live to post on iTunes. Conflict of interest. You get it.
I also haven't taught in over a month, the longest I've ever gone without teaching before I ever taught.
I have also never taught in this particular space, with this many people, ever.
Hmmmmm.
But, I prepared. I'm ready.
Then this teacher called me the day of and asked me to fill in for her earlier class...two hours notice, different vibe altogether.
Um, of course!
She's a tough act to follow. Her sequencing is the same most classes, her music brilliant and her anecdotes, appropriate and inspiring.
I'm...a goof, stern in my alignment and sequencing but inspired to change per the people in the room and always cracking jokes while adding philosophy and anecdotes between holding postures and adjustments. That's just how I roll.
I'm...different and yet, I've always felt really connected in the strength of her style, that I would be an appropriate sub in her absence.
You don't want just anyone. Even for me, I hand pick people to take over my classes. The teachers I chose are different from me and fantastic.
When I came into class, it was packed, not like the way her class is normally packed.
I instantly introduced myself and said that if anyone was expecting her, that I'd turn my back and if they wanted to leave they could...I wouldn't take it personally.
No one left.
I began to teach.
Two people left in the middle of the class.
Really?
We're different, but not THAT different!
But, it bothered me for the same second it took for me to realize that I couldn't TRY to be anything other than who I am as a teacher.
I'm not her.
Sooooo....the jokes came out. I scatted like there was no tomorrow. I taught my class and threw out the plan I had for what it was going to be.
So often the case when planning most classes anyway.
Once they left I thought, this is the class. This is my class. I am teaching and they want to be here. This is the right combination, the right people in the room.
They are informing me and supporting me as I lead them back to the peaceful place they already have within them...
And there it was. A light went on and Stella got her groove back. I mean, Laurie.
I finished class and taught her other class immediately after. Good response from the students is always good. Not necessary but in this area of town, you never know. I might be too Hollywood for these Santa Monica folk.
I didn't feel the judgement, I just felt the goodness I feel when I teach, the vibe that I feel that is yoga...the connection to the teachings I've spent years studying and honing, coming through my veins, blending with my tone of voice and providing a class to people that I feel is good.
I love this work.

The next day, I didn't have to drive anywhere. It was my day in Santa Monica to recoop from a long day of teaching the day before, Labor Day. No holidays for Yoga teachers!!!

I get a call from the studio that I take classes at for acting, reminding me of a workshop I had signed up for before my dad had passed. I had no idea. I remember everything and this, this slipped my mind and my calendar.
Oh, acting, yes, I do this too. Where have I been?
I had an hour to be pretty and get to the valley to meet a casting director for a show that I've always wanted to be on.
I thought, oh my goodness, to drive to the valley now when I have so much driving tomorrow?
But I did it. I showered, hustled, braved three freeways and delivered a scene that anyone would be crazy not to hire me from.
I did good.
I know my dad was with me both days, giving me the energy to get through all of this new, same, strangeness.
It's all the same from before, but different now.
I'm older now.
Dad's not around now.
My perspective is different now.
My goals are different now, because of all of these shifts.
I don't know what to surmise from all of it.
Of all my blogs, I feel like this one is more of a work in progress. I actually don't know what message I'm trying to say in it.
I guess, I'm saying that, well, I feel really good. And, I think that feels strange, because I think it's been a long time. And maybe I feel like I'm not supposed to feel good yet?
I think when my dad died, I forgot how to breathe.
I feel like I forgot how everything worked. I wrote about that in another blog.
I literally forgot, how to put makeup on or how to run the coffee maker.
This new normal is the same but no longer has my dad in it.
My dad was never really part of my 'everyday' life in LA, but still, you never know how much someone is really IN your life till they are gone.
He was such a fiber in my life that I never realized. Like the thread that is hanging off your favorite shirt and you don't notice till you take off at the end of the day.
He was just part of it all even though I didn't talk to him everyday.
Knowing he was there, coming home from work, driving the FDR, sleeping, reading, going to chemo. He was always there and I knew it. Now he is here in a way that is like the thread hanging off a shirt, a light that goes out, a butterfly that scutters by my head on the way out the door to the gym, a song on the radio, the coffee I drink in the morning, ok, everything...more than when he was here...a legend.

I expected the plan. What I got was spontaneous. I thought I would ease, and yet it I got carried in the flow of what was before me. What was out of my control. Life. Always, no matter how much you try to keep in order.
That's ok. It was a little startling. I thought I would die under the pressure of it, but...I'm the same.
I'm the same and maybe a little better.
I feel like I have more life and more energy. Maybe it's him.
Maybe it's me. Maybe it's us.
Don't know.
All I know is that I'm back and loving it. The plans and the stuff that messes the plans up to make it more exciting.
I'm sure, dear Oprah, if you read this you would understand and mire in the mess of it all. Life.
It's never what you plan, ever.
It's in the unplanned that we learn our greatest lessons.
So, I guess I do have a point.
And yes, it took me a while to get here.
But we're all older now.

Leave things the way you found them...

Dear Oprah,
Does it ever annoy you when people leave trash on a Starbucks table that's two inches from the garbage bin?
I wonder.
When I'm at the gym and people leave their towels or magazine inserts strewn around the floor, that bothers me. I don't want to judge and yes, I know there is someone to clean it up, but I don't like going anywhere and leaving a trace unless I know my mark is good.
One wouldn't go into the forest and leave bottles or paper strewn amongst the foliage, right? Maybe people would.
When I touch the earth with my feet, my car, my tabloids, my hands on the elliptical, I want to leave it the way I found it.
I clean up, like I was never there. I don't want someone else to do the job for me, even if they are supposed to.
I'm not saying you need to re-fold all of the t-shirts you look at when visiting the Gap.
My mark is stronger and in a different direction, it's not to disrupt or disturb.
Walk softly. Be and do and remove yourself and your trail.
You know what I mean?
Just sayin...
Laurie

Rush

I love when I see people rush to yoga class. It's such a contradiction...
and yet.
all I'm doing is moving. I don't let myself catch a moment to be still.
Don't be still.
Cause that's where you find it...
all.
So I do, in the place that's home...
Sivasana,
where I move myself to a place of stillness.
And that's where I find him.
And that's where I find it all.
The answers and the peace and the love and the wholeness that I miss when I move to fast to see or feel...anything.
And I cry, quietly so no one sees.
And I remember the first few times I took yoga.
And I remember all the years after, practicing yoga and never getting back to that place where I was when I first started.
So new,
So fresh,
So vulnerable to all of the new experiences one feels when they begin to feel the love for it.
So long, it's been.
And here I am, like a beginner.
I'm beginning again.
A new person.
Same, but different, without him.
And I'm mourning, but I feel good.
I weep, but I feel strong.
I'm sad, but I'm so grateful that I feel.
So grateful that I can produce these feelings and let them come out safely.
I rush.
I rush to yoga.
Catch my breath, hold it, let it go, let it flow and feel it so deeply.
I remember.

Happy Life Day

Dear Oprah,
Today, I feel special. Today I am filled with gratitude.
Because I know you like to rename things and mix things up and because it is my birthday, in your likeness I would like to change today to my ‘life day.’
I woke up this morning after a restless sleep because my upstairs neighbor was playing horrid music and clogging until 4AM. I went for a birthday run, a little later then I wanted to. It was 9AM and 90 degrees. The sand was uber soft and impossible to gain speed in. I needed to earn my cake!
I sweat sunscreen into my eyes and couldn’t see the beautiful rolling ocean in front of me, just a blur of sand and salt.
But still, I am grateful. I am so thankful to be living here and that I have this beach inches from me, that I have this life and great friends and family, even though many of them are far away. That I am not alone as I have a metro-sexual freak always above me to give me something to complain about. I love my job and for what it’s worth and all the last year has surfaced for me, I am happy.
So today, I will like to celebrate my ‘life day.’ And, thank goodness for facebook. That’s the best thing about birthdays, everyone’s givin’ shout outs.
Happy ‘life day’ to me!
Hope you are havin’ a good Labor day weekend and that you aren’t doing anything too laborious.
Much love,
Laurie
Gonna get my cake on. I'll save you a piece!

Dear Oprah

Dear Oprah,

I hope you are doing well and enjoying the start of your new season.

I'm just checking in because I find myself in a time where I'm questioning a lot in my life.

I find myself in situations where I ask myself, what would Oprah do?

I blog often and originally my Yoga And Fitness To Go blog started as an extension to the yoga classes I was teaching…a way to continue my message off the mat. But, when life started providing me with heavier challenges, challenges that I felt even my personal yoga practice couldn’t flesh through, I felt the blog could fill in the spaces that I needed to work through my tests in a way yoga couldn’t.

In a way, yoga changed for me.

The word yoga, loosely translated, means union.

I always believed that everyone had their own version of yoga and it didn’t always mean donning cute pants and laying out your mat preparing to sweat.

I also don’t think it always means moving into that still place where one could contemplate their life in meditation and breath work. All of those things have worked for me on some level at some point, but there came that point where I was breathless, alone and wondering…what would Oprah do?

Then I saw the film, Julie and Julia.

Then it came to me.

Capitalize.

Write as much as you can to Oprah and hope that she responds.

So, here I am, on my same blog, telling similar tales, but with a new mission.

I will write as much as I can, teach and share as much as I can from my experience in the world in the hopes that Oprah, dear Oprah, will respond to my letters of trial and triumph.

For I know that even Oprah is humble in her crusade to learn what she can from others and share with those who have the need to know.

I am a girl, living in Los Angeles, teaching Yoga and personal fitness training and have also never left my dream of acting. Still pursuing that dream tirelessly. I’m also a writer, not of screenplays or plays, but journalistically speaking, writing for magazines and telling the stories of others.

This is something many of my students never knew about me. It’s not important to share in the classroom, but here, I’m letting it all hang out. I’m here to tell my story with those who will read it…hopefully not just my mom or my dear friend Bryan who will read and edit the grammar voraciously, but to anyone out there that might find a kinship with me, a yogi and a girl, single, living in Los Angeles, in her 30’s, still dreaming and still loving the thrill of learning, growing and being all you can be…but not in the army. I love the troops but mostly ‘cause they’re doing it and I don’t have to. Thanks though.

I’ve been teaching Yoga for the last 6 years and love my job. I love my students and mostly, I love what I learn from them. Everyone is so different and have such different needs. They are all on such different paths…many of them further along then me, but they come to me and my classes so that they can find something…the same something that I lost, found and share. Maybe they just come to be reminded of something they already know. Maybe they just want to work out and my class happens to fit into their schedule. But, they keep coming and for that, I am always grateful and hope to provide the service to them that they need at the time that they need it.

I love the community of yoga in Los Angeles. There are so many of us here to share the wealth of knowledge, physical, mental and emotional teachings.

I love Los Angeles.

I love my family.

I love my small studio apartment in Santa Monica, just one block from the beach.

I love my friends.

I love my life.

And I am so very, very sad.

This year I have lost the love of my life, my dad. I also lost the love of my life, my boyfriend of eight years. I’m grateful for the friendship I’ve made with the ex, but my dad, my dad, my dad…where is he now?

He’s in the music I listen to, the laundry I fold, the dinner I make, the gas that I pump, the car that I drive, the book that I read, the dress that I put on and feel pretty, the conversation with my mom or the brief conversation that I have with my sisters. He’s in the photographs, the words I write and say, the ring I wear on my left middle finger with his name and mantra engraved, 'LEAVE ROOM'. He’s everywhere and I’ve never felt so alone.

I have so much love around me but I’m learning to replace his love in a way that’s more ethereal.

As I begin to grasp the ‘new normal’ and life without my dad even though I didn’t see him every day, I wonder…what would Oprah do?

My first day back to regular scheduled programming. I had five clients, back to back, with a drive that accrued almost a hundred miles. There were no auditions, just a few errands and I came home at 7PM after being out since 7AM and I didn’t know how I did it. I didn’t know if I could do it. What was normal just one month ago was agony to get through.
Today was so hard. Will it get better? When I teach, I teach and it’s all about my student. I forget my life and what I’m dealing with, but as soon as I’m done, I pile my equipment back in the car, snack or chat while I’m driving and it’s on to the next one. By the end of the day, I’m depleted and I can’t understand why. My clients did all of the work. They burned the calories, meditated to bliss and I’m left frazzled and disconnected.

I came home from my long day, the fires still burning everywhere and anywhere, the air arid, red and full. I’m so tired. What can I do? What would Oprah do?

I strapped on my squeakers(they make a funny noise but feel sooo good) and iPod shuffle, compliments of my sister, Kathy and ran to the beach. I watched the sun set. I ran, but I stopped enough to watch it’s slow descend downwrds. That means something. Just to stop and watch. Just to stop the motion and take it in. Just to think of my dad and hope, wherever he was, that he could tune into my need and be there with me to watch, because he never did before.

I feel, even though he is gone, that he can see, more than when he was at home, immobile in bed watching HGTV and eating and drinking when he had no need for either. I feel, even though he is gone, that he can see my life, the beautiful life I created so far from my ‘home’ and know that I’m ok…or at least reassure me that it will all be ok. Because even now, when all I used to need in life was the sunset and a good bath at the end of a long day, I feel like something is missing.

He’s what’s been missing and I hope he can find himself here in my heart so that I can feel complete again, so I can remember what whole felt like.

I listen to the sad songs and talk to my family. Time keeps adding up and it’s been longer that he’s been gone. It feels like just yesterday. It’s still the same season.

Don’t give me fall leaves or snow, it will just mean more time to feel you at rest.

I’ve never really lost someone I know. I don’t know how this works. I don’t think anyone does. I wonder, what would Oprah do?

But then I know, she would probably do the same, talk about it, maybe have a glass of wine, then work it off in the morning, go into make up and put on a show.

Not much different from what I’m doing now.

My blog will continue to be what it is on Yoga And Fitness To Go, but it will have a new tag, to my guru, the only one who is really there for me when the hours are quiet from clients to students, that three o’clock hour where I can find her, fighting for rights, screaming a the top of her lungs, laughing and crying.

She’s a lot like my mom.

She's my big black mama.

My mom has been my greatest teacher of yoga and she has no idea what I do. She tries but it doesn’t make much sense.

What makes sense to her is finding the peace in one’s day to really look around, be and appreciate life for what it is, death, mourning, poor cash flow, abundant laughs, great home baked cookies and a smile when you come in the door.

My mom is yoga.

Oprah is yoga.

All of us are yoga when we chose to be and not do, turn inwards instead of acting outwards, share and love and nothing more.

To, you, Dear Oprah, I write.

Yours,
Laurie Searle
Please find my new blog at http://open.salon.com/blog/dearoprah