Archive | Essays

The Sorry, Charlie School of Intuitive Guidance

It is spring, the world is blooming, and instinctually we wish to bloom as well. While this can feel inspiring, it also can be triggering. Because one of the hardest lessons of life is that we can’t always push our way through. No matter how smart, gifted, and well-intended we are—no matter how much we charm, chant, meditate, pray, make affirmations, visualize, flow-chart, invest, work,nand white-knuckle it—sometimes things just don’t go our way.

In my intuition practice I have observed that the Universe will put obstacle after obstacle in our path until we not only learn a new lesson but a new way to learn. Central to this learning is the acceptance that we are creating our lives with something else. When we learn how to be present and open to each moment even when we wish it were different, then we align with this divine consciousness. It is in this alignment that we are always supported and always grow.

Flowers don’t bloom from their will alone and neither do we. That’s what makes it all so hard–and so rhapsodically mud-luscious.

To chart optimal paths, release roadblocks, and activate your own intuition, book a reading for yourself or a loved one. Image: Shara Hughes.

American Love Story

art: kerry james marshall

This is not a post about astrology or tarot or the moon. But it is about spiritual ritual—because rituals mean nothing if they are not ultimately for the higher and thus common good. Activism can be just as enlightening a ritual as meditating all day on a mountain. In fact, when the humanity of everyone is not honored equally in the country where you live, activism can be the most enlightened thing you do. And make no mistake: we live in a country where 20 percent of its denizens make 86 percent of the money and are barely taxed. Where it’s harder to vote than buy a gun. And where the people paid to protect the peace may very well kill you if you are black or brown, even if you’re a child, because racism is core to American policing.

I send love to anyone in pain today or any other day because of the inequities built upon this land by European settlers. I send love to everyone actively fighting for the first truly multiracial democracy to flourish under the American flag. Cornel West said it and it is true: Justice is what love looks like in public.

Just Deserts Are Best Eaten With Fangs

This is a story of just deserts and middle age and I am not necessarily endorsing the role I play.

Just now I ran into a guy who was a real thorn in my side pre-Pandemic. He lives next door in what I call Melrose Place, an apartment building mostly populated by young, Italian-born guys who work at the cafe on the first floor. The man in question is actually three weeks older than me, though before the Plague it wasn’t evident from his demeanor.

He had recently left his wife, also our age, because–and this is a direct quote–“she did not make him feel like a man.” This man’s wife made most of the money in their relationship from her excellent art direction and so, upon leaving her, he had been serving espressos next door along with all the other cute boys because, yes, I regret to inform you that this man was quite cute. Handsome, actually, in that mournful, big-nosed, big-pawed way of some Italian men. In fact, I confess that when this man first began to serve coffee next door I found him undeniably attractive. Given my parentage, it is not surprising that I confuse intense self-pity for intense soulfulness in a certain sort of good-looking person. Continue Reading →

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy