A Season of Change

I remember when we had a short cold spell in June, a few friends posted how they were waiting eagerly for the heat of Summer. I just don't get it. Why are you begging the sun to shine upon us at 110 degrees? What could possibly be pleasant about that? While I do love a sunny afternoon at the beach, a glass of cool lemonade on a hot summer day and alfresco dining under the setting sun, I consider myself more of an Autumn loving girl.

Boston Public Park

Cinnamon scented pine cones, Starbuck's pumpkin spiced lattes and cozy sweaters just fill my heart with glee. The rich color of egg plant and leather boots soothe my soul and somehow remind me that there is beautiful protection from the blustery winds. California residents don't quite get the change of seasons that many parts of our great country experience. But, that doesn't stop us from doning multi colored scarves and gloves like our sisters on the East Coast!

Lilly Therese

Besides great fall fashion and sumptuous comfort food, I love this season for it's spiritual implications. I am reminded of my first lesson on the Native American world view. I opted to take a class during my freshmen year at Berkeley which changed the way I think about life and death. My professor said that a Western approach looks at the world in a linear fashion. Starting point is life and the ending point is death. The Natives see life as circular. Life, death and rebirth all interconnected, all divine.

I often hear Spring celebrated as the season of change. The blooming of blossoms, budding flowers and pollinating bees illustrate newness. The manifestation of what was once dead now springing forth into life. I believe that Spring is all of this however, it can not be without death occuring first. There would have been no power in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ had He not willingly laid His life down first. See, it is all circular.

 So, the season is changing and Fall is at hand. We still have hot days but it is already getting darker earlier. Soon the leaves will turn colors and gracefully let go of their home on the branch and fall. They surrender to their new shades, surrender to the season. The foliage succumbs to the natural occurrence of change. Transitioning into a state of decomposition, otherwise known as rot. The study of this science is called Taphonomy from the Greek word taphos which means grave. According to Wikipedia this process happens in stages. Each part contributing to the breakdown of what once was. "The process is essential for new growth and development of living organisms because it recycles the finite matter...".

Four Seasons, same tree

The process is essential for new growth. This makes me think of all the times I become afraid to surrender to my moments. I often become stubborn in my attempt to keep control of a situation or even a person. I remember the times my feelings were hurt because someone or something did not follow the script I created for them. There is no ad libbing on the Jodi Show. Fear of disappointment has taught me to require a finalized rough draft from every player submitted solely for approval. My approval. And when these indviduals or circumstances played themselves out in a manner I disagreed with, I became more fervent in my effort to make them act right. How dare they not follow their lines!

Unfortunately, my lesson in all of this is simply to Let Go! I have wasted so much energy in my attempt to control. But most importantly, I missed life changing moments. I may have wanted the person to stay in an eternal state of Summer, fun and frolicking, carefree and easy. I didn't recognize their need to blossom or die to a habit, their need to break free from the role I created for them. Maybe it's not so much that I missed this but rather, I chose to ignore the signs of an approaching change of season.

I have also gritted my teeth and sank my nails into my own bad behaviors. Too many times of attracting the wrong men, post divorce, influenced me to hang onto my leaves of protection. The season is approaching. The Grimm Reaper is knocking. Will I fight to hang on to the walls I have so conveniently built or will I surrender to death. This Autumn, I have a choice to make. In order to regenerate, renew, restore myself and reap the benefits of new beginnings, I must allow the process of decomposition to run it's course. I must Fall. I must Let Go. The beautiful part of all of this release is I know that Spring will soon follow and I will reap rewards of a new beginning.

May you heart be enlarged to accept the end of a thing and surrender! ~Jodi

 Japanese Cherry Blossom

Incriminating

I've said this before and I will say it again, the need to blog just springs forth in me. I can be at a place, any place with anyone, anywhere, at any time and I actually feel it coming. A man who suffered from seizures once told me that he could feel the grand mal or petite mal coming so he would prepare himself by grabbing a wooden spoon or a wad of paper towels to stuff in his mouth right before the violent shaking began.

Blogging for me is a release, a violent shaking of all of the emotions, passions and fears which I attempt to keep neatly controlled during my non-writing life. Excuse me, I need to go back to a thought I had during the first paragraph. I was saying that the need to blog can come from ANY thing. It comes like the sound of a steam engine roaring in the distance. Or maybe better yet, like the little engine that could. That ANY thing could be a sentence in a book, a comment from a friend or a divine moment. As I was sitting with some really great friends tonight over dinner, I heard that choo choo train rolling in the distance. 

I get settled in at home, turn on the computer and log on to blogspot. All of a sudden, the word INCRIMINATING is shouting at me like the whistle on a train. What the?!? I write about my journey of love and romance. What does INCRIMINATING have to do with that, seriously? Talk about random!
Where can I get some insight on this? I know, let's consult good old reliable Merriam Webster. Adj. 1. incriminating - charging or suggestive of guilt or blame. Okay, so now I know what it means but, what does that have to do with my road to AMORE? Things that make you go hmmm!?!

There are those individuals who relish anonymity. Wikipedia defines that as "without a name, nameless". People choose to remain anonymous for various reasons. Some good and some not so good. I know what you are thinking..why did she jump from INCRIMINATING to anonymous (small case, no bold, no italics, insignificant, blend in the crowd, shall remain unimportant). Where is she going with this?

All board, the blog train is coming. As I write it starts to make more sense. Funny, I think the moon has lit the way (I paid homage to the moon a few minutes ago on Facebook and now it's paying me back with illumination). You don't want to miss this train. Ok, so people choose to remain anonymous for various reasons. Some are even afraid to write in a diary or a blog out of fear that some ill intentioned person may get a hold of all our secrets. God forbid people find out that we don't have it all together.

So, I have been scratching just a bit below the surface on this whole love thing. I haven't quite been anonymous  but, more like Jane Doe. You know I am a woman. You know that I am on a journey of self-actualization in regard to my romantic relationships. And if you didn't, you do now. But, tonight my writing will be more open. Take your seats ladies and gentlemen, the train is leaving the station.

Let's go back to paragraph 2, remember I was sitting at dinner with some really great friends? These individuals I have know for about 10 years or longer. They have known me married, divorced and single. They have cried with me, laughed with me and encouraged me to become the woman I am today. Yes, they have played a part in me....Becoming. I excused myself for a long minute during the "hey girl it's been so long" portion of our evening. Little did this group know that my spirit was a tad bit crushed this evening. Here they were telling me that I looked beautiful, how they appreciate my positivity and how much they love reading my FB posts and there I was....Becoming.

An internal war was taking place in the midst of margaritas, chips and salsa. I vascillated between becoming full of disappointment and becoming full of gratitude or simple acceptance or whatever other Eat, Pray Lovish emotion I can stir up. All of this taking place as I attempted to stay present and involved in the conversation. I trust this group and could have blurted out my discontentment. I can count on these women to nod their heads, smile and with the sincerity that only well seasoned friendships provide, offer an encouraging word. I chose to remain anonymous...to remain nameless, to blend in, to not be bold or italicized or underlined or "".

You see, I went on a date yesterday. Not just any date. But a date with someone who really sparked my interest (and as sad as this may sound, that's rare). I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I mean I really enjoyed myself and even while sitting there on that date, hoped for the best. And then tonight, over margaritas, chips and salsa with these lovely friends of mine, I received a message. Okay not a message but, THE Message. Graciously, my date informed me that he so enjoyed my company BUT, thought it best that we just BE...friends. Yes, those words stung for a bit. Not to worry dear friends, the blogging has helped. And not to mention the fact that this new found friend formerly known as my date, informed me that he had recently been doing some pruning of his negative friends which gave room to welcome me if I was interested. With my margarita by side and in the presence of witnesses (albeit unaware), I sent this text to him "Cheers to your gardening. Lucky me! And you! LOL!". I meant that with my whole heart.

I am free tonight because I am not afraid any longer of being INCRIMINATED. Let me explain. I used to live so guarded. Fearful, that someone would find out that I have moments when I ponder what is wrong with me. Aren't I lovable? Worthy of being chosen? Am I not capable of making a romantic relationship work? I would become annoyed by phrases like "his loss" because it's not just his loss. It was my loss too. And for all of the budding and full grown romantic relationships I have stopped and started, I couldn't help but wonder what I am missing. I am reminded of a scene in Grey's Anatomy which at times still haunts me. Meredith talking to Derek pleads "So pick me. Choose me. Love me"! But, this is not the Jodi I portray. I am so busy being busy. Filling up my days with events, dinners and activities because that is what I love, yes, but also, to drown out Dr. Grey's incessant plea. I mean my incessant plea.

But, there is a dichotomy. I have craftily mastered a pretty good life without a companion. I have spent time, energy and money developing a strong sense of self and have made empowering women my platform. But, I have used this like a funhouse mirror or a magician's illusion to trick the audience. Because at the end of the day, in the still of the night when the curtain is drawn, I wonder, who will choose me, pick me, love me. And of course since I have been married before and I am an equal rights advocate, I wonder who will I pick? Who will I choose? Who will I love.

Consider this self-incrimination. I am guilty as charged. Not guilty of desiring love. There is no crime in that. But rather, guilty of fooling myself into believing that I was fully content as I am. Now a bit weary from patching and re-patching my cape, I understand that I am not superwoman nor do I have the desire to be. The right companion in my life is necessary. Every hero needs a sidekick right? Maybe it was my grandmother's expressed concern that I will end up alone like her or, maybe it was meeting a man who shared so many of my common interest that made me declare to some girlfriends who met up to hear the scoop post-date, "I am so over myself. I am open and ready to receive the love that is meant for me. I no longer want to be alone". Oh and boy do I ever mean these words.

Here is what I am asking of you dear friend. Do not spend a second of your precious time worrying about my fears and revelations. I am blazing my trail on the road less traveled (that was for you Laurie). This whole thing is a mandatory part of my journey. My hope is that you expose the evidence in your own life. There will come a moment when your willingness to be honest about the secret things in your heart shared with the right person at the right time will absolutely transform your life..and theirs! Live freely and boldly for we have but brief opportunities to impact one another.

Once I informed my new friend formerly known as my date that I would accept his offer of friendship and thanked him for his honesty, he replied "good, I feel better Jodi :-)". So, I replied this,"I'm having a margarita so I hope to be feeling better soon too! I'd be pretending if I acted as if I'm cool like that. The women's libbers would lynch me for my honesty. Don't be a stranger". And yes, I meant it. Choose not to be anonymous or even Jane Doe in this life. Your life has meaning and purpose. Sometimes it may require some pruning to make room for the positive buds. Be free!

"I am a soldier of love...I know that love will come" ~Sade

The Beauty of Age

Americans are funny. We value youth and have very little use or respect for our elders. Now of course I am making a gross generalization but, it is true. We spend goo gobs of money on lotions and potions to revitalize, renew and restructure our physical selves. And unfortunately, maybe almost conveniently neglect developing our integrity, wisdom and grace.
The last few weekends, I have spent time with my grandmothers and great aunts. Listening, absorbing and relishing their presence. I am grateful to know them. And, I honor their strength, courage and grace. They know from whence they came and also look at the life they have left. They possess a natural beauty, giving hearts and resilient spirits. These women no longer make apologies or excuses. It is obvious from the look in their eyes and the confidence of their stance that they know a thing or two about living.
I usually write about my lessons on romantic love as I walk my journey. Well, this piece will be no different. I have come to understand that one of the most attractive characteristic a woman can have is her confidence. While I am fully aware that men are visual. I also believe the words of Sophia Loren "Sex appeal is 50% what you got and 50% what they think you got"! I have spent long enough self-deprecating.
Last week at our 36th Annual Family Picnic, I met a relative I never knew I had. At 71 years old, Geraldine, mother of 10, grandmother to 37 and great grandmother to 11 showed us younger women how to properly 2nd line. Think New Orleans, umbrellas, handkerchiefs and the band marching better yet dancing down the street. Oh, she has moves honey. There she was in all of her 71 years of glory, unashamedly, rhythmically moving to the most appropriate song "Do Whatcha Wanna"!

The following day, My Granny Rosemary turned 83 years old. As we sat and waited with her birthday candles lit, the whole family knew she must be reapplying her lipstick and combing her hair. Sure enough. Her sister, Robertine, turned to me and said "I think she would make the good Lord wait for her while she fixes herself up"!

Aunt Robertine also joined us from New Orleans. At the end of every picnic, we give individuals the opportunity to share anything they may be grateful for. She said that she was thankful, even though she lost everything in Katrina, she felt blessed.

I spent this past weekend with my Nana in San Diego. At 81, she is on a bowling league at the Navy base. She is my traveling partner and she is not lacking in suitors. She is hardworking. Cleaned her carpets on Friday. But, she also knows how to play hard. She received a visit from another Grandmother of mine, Dorothy Massengale. Grandma Massengale complained to Nana that her family "freaked out" when she ordered a drink while vacationing in Las Vegas. Nana swiftly replied, "do what I do. Tell them, I will respect your house by not drinking in it. But, in my own house and on vacation, I do what I please". You gotta love a woman who tells it like it is.

My reality check came when I was talking to Grandma Massengale. She began asking me about my love life. And then she says "Please don't be like me Jodi"! She told me with an unwavering sincerity "to live, to travel for pleasure's sake and to find real companionship with a nice gentleman". Even now while, I write this, I can recall the pleading tone in her voice.
I am in charge of my journey. I am in charge of opening myself enough to fully experience the people, places and events which will shape me into becoming bold and beautiful. In order for me to ensure that when I reach my 80's, I am full of life, is to really  start living. It is to face my fears, to challenge myself and to become free enough to do what I wanna! It makes me think back to one of my favorite lines from Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love. "I was not rescued by a Prince. I was the administrator of my own rescue". Some people have a hard time digesting this line. But, I get it, and not as some new agey, mind freak thing. I have within me the power to create the life I envision for myself. If I don't like something, I can change it.
Tonight, one of my feminine role models passed away. Eloise Ford was 95 years old. She was the mother/grandmother of my friend Angela. She taught me the true meaning of taking care of a household and her man. And she always looked stylish doing it. Thank you Grandma for the seeds you planted.

A word for real men on mother's day eve?!

I spent a really grand evening with my family and very dear friend from work at John's Incredible Pizza Co. We laughed and ate and chatted and laughed and ate 'til our hearts' content. We parted ways strangely. She rejoined her daughter at the redemption booth and I found an empty seat at Deal or No Deal, no goodbyes. After several games, I decided to find a table for a cup of cappuccino. And there I sat. Alone. To the observer, I may have appeared to be just another woman sitting and occupying my time while my family busily swiped their Fun Cards over and over again. Yeah, that would have to be their thoughts because, who would come to a Family Fun Center ALONE? But, you see, I am not really alone because my loved ones are here somewhere. So, I am sitting by myself but I am not ALONE.

I wish I had the ability to shut down, power off, disconnect at will similar to my Sprint phone. But no, my mind seems to operate in one mode only...auto pilot. Figuring, calculating, connecting the dots, deciphering, developing, wishing and hoping for something that would transform....ME! A good friend says "girl, you are an Aquarius, embrace this part of you and run with it. Your mind works this way...accept it". All I know is this whole routine of "what am I supposed to be learning?" or "why did this person cross my path?" occasionally tires me out. Then there are those moments of thinking when 2+2 actually equals 4 and just like that, a new idea springs forth. Okay, well sometimes it's not a new idea but, things just begin to make sense. Let's go back to sitting for a moment.

In between sips of sweetened espresso and milk, the feeling of wanting to express myself in writing emerges slowly. It almost creeps up on me but, yet I know it's coming. Kind of like sitting on the sand watching the crescendo of waves rise and fall. It's rhythmic. I mean we all know how the waves roll in and out yet, the next one is as hypnotic as it's predecessor. Surrounded by noise, lights, John, company and incredible pizza, I go inward to find the pulse, the nerve center of this emotion. Wait for it, wait for it...Nope, got nothing. I get up a bit daunted. Guess, I'll just go locate my son.

I believe the most annoying part of these pizza and fun joints is the kajillion hours it takes for a kid to choose between a 2 inch slinky and an army man. Seriously?! My son looks over. I wave with a forced patient smile. No need to ruin his great night with my disdain for imbalanced reward systems. I pass the time with mobile web surfing. Hmmm, email from my dad entitled "A Good Time with My Father in Law". I'm reading, reading...no way...what's with the water works? Tears, now? Pull it together Jodi.

And so began yet another episode of...Jodi, Let's face your Wall(s). When I was about 12 years old, my bestie's dad told me that I must be really special because God gave me two dads who adore me. At the time, I was thinking..come on now man, I am the product of brokenness, dissolution and irreconcilable differences. If this is special it must be code word for misfit. I digress or maybe not. This email was written by my biological father who currently resides in the city of brotherly love. Well, he actually lives in a suburb outside of Philly but none of this really matters for the point of this story. I think?

My dad wrote of visiting his father in law who lives in a senior care facility. Apparently, my father visits every other month primarily to play jazz music and just sit with him. "My father in law is a special man.  He could have been a professional musician playing several instruments; but he chose to marry and raise a family. He grew up with Amad Jamal, Horace Parnham and several other world renowned musicians; but he chose to be a husband and a real man". 


Chose to be a husband and a real man, he wrote. Wow, now that's a powerful statement. I always assumed that the most gut wrenching part of my wall would require me to scale it. How could stones which have been sitting firmly planted as part of my foundation be easy to remove? It would be like choosing the bottom block in a Jenga tower, everything should just crumble. So for all of these years, I wondered when I would begin actually processing the shame I have carried since my girlhood. The shame of feeling abandoned. My dad and I have discussed this several times just in case my shedding light on this rather taboo subject makes you uncomfortable. Remember, this blog is part of my process in discovering and embracing my femininity. And because life does not exist in a vacuum, I could not successfully explore femininity without giving attention to masculinity.

I have beat the rejection and abandonment horses to death, revived them and beat them all over again. Tonight, I feel no need to expound on the circumstances nor the aftermath of such an experience at an early age. Call it Freudian or whatever you please but, lack of bonding with a particular parent will surely lead to the reading of at least one self help relationship book in a lifetime. Enough of the pondering the what ifs, finding fault and placing blame. Instead I choose to seek healing, restoration and balance by facing my wall(s). Funny how life works. In order for me to become truly free in my womanhood, I must honor manhood.

While, it would seem appropriate for me to write volumes on all of the wonderful ways of the beautiful, resourceful, brilliant women in my life, it is Mother's Day after all, I choose to write about my admiration of men. You see, writing about women requires very little effort on my part. I do not have to fight any fire breathing dragons or navigate through any motes to do that. It comes naturally. But, to express my respect and adoration of men requires courage.

My dad ended his email with the following sentence:
"Yes this is Mother's Day but right now I am sitting with a REAL MAN; I pray one day somebody will say that about me".

To my daddy: It is through tears that I write these words to you. For most of my life, I felt that something must be inherently wrong with me. Could I actually be unlovable? Carrying this wound with me like a ton of bricks, I subconsciously developed a strong contempt for men. While casually thumbing through a book today, I read that line (are you a woman who has contempt for men?) and it pierced me like a knife. Me, have contempt for men? So I looked up that word...yikes!!! It means the feeling or attitude of regarding something as inferior, base or worthless. scorn. Oh daddy, now it all makes sense. I could have waited until you went to meet your heavenly father to speak kind words about your life. But would I just be trying to convince myself and others that I was a good daughter? God is giving me a chance now to let you know how loved you truly are. I will not wait until you are in a senior care facility to let you know that yes, daddy, you are ABSOLUTELY A REAL MAN. I know in my heart that you did the best you could with what you knew. You never cease to amaze me with your diligence in keeping your family together. You always seem to know when to call to offer a word of encouragement or just to let me know I'm on your mind. You pray for your children, reach out to your brothers and honor your parents. You love your wife as yourself and call her blessed. Daddy, that's a real man. You have told me time and again how much you appreciate my other daddy for being a solid rock in my life and for loving me as his own. This is what real men do. Forgive me for the times when I may have shut you out physically or emotionally. I can only pray that my son grows into a Real Man just like my dads. Mr Bibawi was right daddy, I am special in only a way that another man would understand. I love you with all of my WHOLE heart. You are my hero.

Today, in this unguarded moment, I choose love over fear. Many people think that hate is the opposite of love. It is not. Recently, I was discussing this wall business with a friend. She told me that she feels like she is staring up at the Great Wall of China. This friend went on to say that she felt like she needed a plan to overcome this wall. To which I said, just maybe you don't need to Do anything maybe you just need to BE.

Ladies, may YOU be loving, be kind, be gentle, be nurturing, be respectful, be honest, be supportive, be yourself and be a soft place to fall for all of the Real Men in your lives.

Yes this is Mother's Day. And today I choose to honor all of the good men in my life!

Blessings,

Jodi

In an unguarded moment...

Unfortunately, I subconsciously began censoring myself in my last few posts and I can feel/tell/sense the difference. A very good friend of mine recently made her blog private and I struggled with deciding to do the same. Tossing the pros and cons over in my mind for several days, I concluded that God gave me a voice for a reason. No one else can feel/tell/sense my world as I do. It is therefore my right and my duty to share as I experience life around me. However, I also reserve the right at any moment to make this a "By Invitation Only" blog. If I so choose.

While listening to Elizabeth Gilbert's, Eat, Pray, Love on audiobook, I chuckled to myself. The author tells this story:

I walked into an office building one afternoon in a hurry, dashed into the waiting elevator. As I rushed in, I caught an unexpected glance of myself in a security mirror’s reflection. In that moment, my brain did an odd thing—it fired off this split-second message: “Hey! You know her! That’s a friend of yours!” And I actually ran forward toward my own reflection with a smile, ready to welcome that girl whose name I had lost but whose face was so familiar. In a flash instant of course, I realized my mistake and laughed in embarrassment at my almost doglike confusion over how a mirror works. But for some reason that incident comes to mind again tonight during my sadness in Rome, and I find myself writing this comforting reminder at the bottom of the page.

Never forget that once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, you recognized yourself as a FRIEND… 

I listened to this part of the CD over and over again until I could taste this moment. I saw myself there with her in that elevator occupying my neatly carved 3 feet of distance from any other human. It's funny how we have become as a society so full of contradictions, enigmas and fears yet longing to feel significant and understood. We may avoid all eye contact with our fellow elevator riders while Tweeting that we're in an elevator to our loyal "followers". Strange. We can communicate at the speed of light through electronic devices but rarely speak in passing. We have become guarded even almost fearful of each other and sadly of ourselves. Constantly connected to the world wide web yet completely disconnected. 

At the beginning of this year, some friends and I saw the romantic comedy It's Complicated. Some comedy, I cried...I mean from the depths of my soul, pit of my stomach, snot from my nose (sorry for the visual) no longer can see type of cry. What is going on with you Jodi? You should be laughing. And to make matters worse, I have no real clue why I'm crying. It's so bad that we're walking to the car AFTER the movie and I start crying again because I can feel something stirring  within but can not express it. By now my friends are looking at me like I am absolutely certifiable. But in that moment, I no longer care..I am completely unguarded. I am no longer  Ms. in control, update with the perfect quote, censor my blog Jodi. I am just...raw and real and hurting and frustrated and tired and through with it all. What all? Did I say all? Think I actually meant WALL...Yes, that's it. I am done with the Wall.


The wall metaphor needs no introduction as I can only assume that most of you are familiar with what I mean but, please bear with me as I bare my soul. Unguarded. My divorce left a gaping hole in my heart which over the past ten years I have covered with my relentless participation in self-help, fix-it, control freak and fearful behaviors. I became in charge of myself and my emotions. There was no task too great nor too small that I could not handle. My mission was to make sure that I kept the key to my heart safely tucked away least someone take me for granted again. Up went my guard and down went my chances to truly experience life as I should. 


In the midst of my Complicated tears, I got a phone call from a friend. I began sharing my woes and she told me to Google this certain book which led to two other books, which led to a blog on femininity which now has me writing this post after midnight on a Tuesday. Not even sleep deprivation can pull me away from sharing my heart at this moment. This new found knowledge is transforming the way I dress, talk, act and walk. The more I learn, the more I apply, the more free I become. Oh, how I love how all of this works.  I am becoming. And my once guarded heart is now slowly opening.. again. Am I scared? Um yes, scared of never blossoming into the woman I was created to be. Either the wall must come down or I'm scaling it. Staying prisoner is not an option.


I was visiting a friend recently and noticed some beautiful photos on the wall. Generations of a family on display for all who care to see. I mean really See. Black and whites, color, sepia, glossy and matte pictures spanning decades each a story within Their story. Standing in front of this living art, I thought of Alex Haley's quote "In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future". I became captivated by one photo in particular. I actually got a bit teary eyed; which this friend probably did not know until now. Unguarded remember. The photo is of their mother (from my perspective) even though her husband and two children are in the background. This picture is a black and white and must have been taken around the early 60's. It is the look, well more specifically the soul, within her eyes which mesmerized me. This woman completely owned her femininity...transparent, self assured, gracious, beautiful, strong and deeply rooted. She had life in her eyes. A quality few women will ever really know. And in that moment, I understood the power of giving and receiving love. I understood while standing in front of this photo in my friend's home why I could no longer walk around with a gaping hole in my heart. Liberating. This woman was treasured and confident in love and it showed. It reminded me of my own mother as captured by my good friend Fre.

I will never forget that once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, when I was about 16 years old, I had a similar experience to Elizabeth Gilbert. I remember feeling awkward, unattractive maybe like a typical teenager. While shopping with my mom and sisters at the mall, I saw this stunning young lady..so stunning in fact that I tried to get my family's attention so they could see her too. When I turned back, I realized I was looking at a mirrored column. Shocked, taken aback, and freaked out by this weird fact, I simply turned away and rejoined my family. About a month ago during an unguarded moment, I shared this story with my mom for the very first time. That same week I hosted a re-coming out party for a woman who decided to reclaim her femininity. She asked me for a mantra to help her build up the nerve to embrace her rediscovered self. I wrote the following on a card which she posted:


Never forget that once upon a time in an unguarded moment, you saw yourself as beautiful. Your challenge should you choose to accept is to: change your mind about yourself!

Love,
Jodi