Here is my favorite new smoothie. I am still experimenting with my food (as evidenced by all the recipes on this blog), because I truly believe that nutrition is an integral part of the healing equation. We cannot expect to feel good when are putting crap in our bodies, especially during times of stress, when adrenaline and cortisol are running amok.
Archive for the ‘Dianna Bonny’ Category
It is no secret that my kids are the inspiration behind what I do. They are my why. It has been this way since becoming a mother, but when our lives changed that fateful day in 2010, my why shifted to another kind of why, much bigger, and more definitive.
This deeply passionate and devoted why was ignited by a man in a coffee shop. (more…)
I have written about my experiences of coming out from behind the lens, much like a child stepping out from the folds of her mother’s skirt, slowly revealing more and more.
When my blog first went “live,” I made my computer gal take it down so I could get used to the photo of myself being out there. It was quite a shock. Then there was the adjustment to each post going up as I shared more and more of my story. The first encounters with the likes of Twitter and Facebook were equally as terrifying.
I had the sense of being ever so slightly pushed from behind, while at the same time being pulled by some mystical force in front of me. I wonder what on earth is it about being seen that is (more…)
Olympic figure skating and ice dancing have the same effect on me as The Shawshank Redemption — I can’t resist watching, held spellbound by the skaters as they spin and twirl themselves around the solid, and oh-so-frozen slab of ice. As a child, I fantasized about being one of them, but the sad truth is I cannot skate to save my life (and I hate being cold). These days, I am drawn to the story behind the performance and even more spellbound by the dedication and devotion that drives these athletes to return day after day, year after year to perfect their craft.
Mastery requires regular conscious attention, and in many ways, healing ourselves is much the same. It is not the result of a once-in-a-while, cursory thought. Showing up everyday with a compassionate and curious attitude towards all that is unhealed in our heart will yield the biggest results.
Here is one way I have found to optimize the (more…)
I am a big fan of G.T. Dave’s Kombucha. I discovered it years ago and became addicted and started buying it by the case (it’s a lot cheaper that way). Then, Lindsay Lohan claimed it made her drunk in a car accident and – poof – they removed it from the shelves. For months, loyal devotees would visit the empty space where the Kombucha once resided and ask, “When is it coming back?” I know this because I was one of them.
It’s pathetic, but habits make you behave in strange ways. Imagine your favorite Starbucks drink vanishing into thin air. (more…)
When I was growing up we did a lot of road trips. We’d pack up our hideous sky blue & wood-paneled Mercury Montego station wagon and set off for the adventure at hand, primarily skiing. Sans the electronics of today, Mad Libs, I Spy, books and backgammon provided the entertainment. These games often had a short life span and always ended with the question, “Are we t-h-e-r-e yet?” It drove my mother crazy, as did the statement that usually followed, “I have to go to the bathroom.”
Don’t you feel that way sometimes with the healing process? Are we t-h-e-r-e yet? Or, in my case, For god’s sake, aren’t I done yet? Surely I should be normal/healed/whole by now.
Then I remind myself that healing is an organic process that takes time. It’s like compost. The old parts of us that are no longer necessary have to be gently broken down into small enough pieces in order to be integrated back into the whole and transformed into our light. Then, the right external elements have to be introduced in order to create the fertile material for growth and change.
There is alchemical magic going on here, much like the imaginal cells that create the butterfly from the caterpillar.
In pondering those long car rides, I realized that as the miles of highway rolled under our feet, we were (more…)
One of the muscles I have been nurturing and building over these last few years is a previously unused and withered one: the one of self-trust, which translates to following my own intuition and staying aligned with what I know to be true for me. I have always been particularly good at standing up for my children and outside causes, but now I am trying to turn that same passionate devotion towards my own good.
Just like exercise, meditation and eating well, self-trust is an ongoing practice, as well as a fragile and delicate relationship that needs to be lovingly cultivated.
I’m still trying to figure out why it is so hard to be our own champion and honor the inner voice that has our best interests at heart. Perhaps it stems from years of parental and social conditioning: be nice, don’t cause waves, do as you’re told and don’t color outside the lines.
When one of my boys was in the third grade, he had the teacher that everyone dreads. Her grandmotherly appearance belied the cruelty she was (more…)
The other night my son and I watched The Other Shore, a fabulous documentary about one of my heroes, legendary ocean swimmer, Diana Nyad. I am somewhat obsessed with her because although I love the ocean, I am equally terrified by it. One of my biggest fears is falling off a cruise ship, which is ridiculous because I have never been on one, nor do I have any desire to be a passenger. I even have dreams about it.
You see how irrational fears can be?
So, here is this warrior woman who willingly immerses herself in large, open bodies of water and self-propels her way across them. It makes me nervous just thinking about it but I envision these ocean crossings as a beautiful metaphor for the way she has chosen to handle the trauma of (more…)