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Lonely in the time of Corona

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I thought that I was immune to it. I’m young, healthy, I had been working from home by myself for the last 7 years, I’m in a committed loving relationship with a wonderful partner, I was respectful of social distancing, the only people I spoke to were in my house (well really my parents house) or on the phone - I was following the rules! But it came for me a few weeks ago - and it knocked the shit outta me.  Loneliness.  Deep, dark loneliness.  The kind that I couldn’t exercise off, do a puzzle about, or video chat my way out of - it was in my bones. So I did what I always did when I had a feeling I couldn’t shake off,or work my way out of - I cried about it. And this time - I cried about it HARD.  I sobbed about the relationships that I had thought I fostered that now felt like they had evaporated, the home that I had in Brooklyn that I felt alienated from, and like I had abandoned. We had to leave our little place because our apartment has no doors, and my husbands off
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What Would You Save?

Like all things that go sideways, I had a plan.  I was going to jumpstart my writing  this morning.  The coffee was read to be brewed, I had my favorite mug, my journal and pen were out, I had set up a little nook in the postage stamp of a back garden that we have in Brooklyn. There would be sunlit morning skies, hot coffee, I had my phone in case I needed some music. I It was going to be perfect. I was going to hit the ground RUNNING.  I woke up on time, made my coffee, wrote the date down at the top of the page ready for the genius that I had been ignoring to flow right out of me…and then I was like, “oh – I need a water. The brain needs water to function, what was I thinking.” Got myself a glass of water. Then, what good is a water without a snack? Just a little apple or something. Walked back into the apartment, and procured my snack. Time to WRITE!  I stared at my computer screen for a strong 10 seconds, and promptly distracted myself again. “Oh my god, that bird is beau
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Practice What You Preach: A 30 Day Challenge on Bravery, Growth & Gratitude.

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I am one of the luckiest people in the world, because I really love my job as a coach. I love helping people as they move through big challenges in their lives, supporting them as they make big goals, standing next to them as they face their biggest fears. I am in constant awe of my clients and their openness to growth, their consistent bravery and the fact that our sessions allow for them to reflect on the good things in their lives that they are grateful for! Its beautiful, and its badass and I realized last month - I WANT IN!!! I want to push myself to be brave, to engage in activities that make me feel like I am growing, and Lord knows I love me some gratitude so why not throw that in there too! Spring has always felt like a transition time - I mean the weather is changing, why can't I? So, I put together a spreadsheet where I am going to record all of my acts of bravery, growth, and gratitude and I'd love for you beautiful humans to keep me accountable as I move throu
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#10YearChallenge

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I saw it slowly creeping into my social media feeds, side by side pics of friends, family and celebrities showing what they looked like 10 years ago. Everyone looking so fresh and young and gorgeous - even without an instagram filter! I found myself saying audible awws at the faces of these humans that I have delighted in seeing grow up and older, either online or in real life, and write reflections about how much their lives have changed in the last 10 years. For some people it was because of marriage, or children, or crazy job changes or moves across the country or around the world. I loved reading their reflections of who they were, and how amazed they got from the person on the left to the person on the right. I started to think about 2009 me, and I feel totally sure that if she met 2019 me there would be awkwardness. Not just because of the additional smile lines, and the fact that for the first time in about 15 years I don’t have any variation on bangs (I know you guys, I
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Cinnamon Coffee

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The smell of cinnamon and coffee always make me think of my parents. They add it to the coffee grinds because they read that even smelling cinnamon improves your processing capabilities, and that ingesting it is even better for your brain! It makes the whole house smell a little cozier, and more comfortable - it’s like a deep exhale. Even when they lived on Long Island it gave our suburban home a country vibe, which I LOVED. Now, this cinnamon coffee is being brewed in their house overlooking the Green Mountains in Vermont, and it makes so much more sense. You know the phrase create the life you want to live?  It feels like they were making that cinnamon coffee in their Long Island present, for their Vermont future. Whoever gets up first in the house is responsible for turning on the coffee maker and making that cozy smell happen, usually that’s my dad. I get my early rising tendencies from him. Growing up, getting up early was the way that I could be sure to get one on one time wi
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When the Why is the Most Important Part

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Over the last 10 months, coaching has become a larger part of my professional life, and I’ve been reflecting on why I feel so driven to help other people achieve their goals. It started when I was staring at the memoir I wrote about my experience of getting run over by a truck and surviving, aptly named, “How to Get Run Over by a Truck” It had been rejected by over 90 agents. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I knew that I couldn’t give up on it, and I couldn’t do it it alone. Enter the amazing life coaching skills of Mollie Khine . She and I worked together every week, and over the course of 4 months I went from having no idea of how I would take this manuscript out of my computer and into the world - to having pre-sold over 1000 copies of this book. I was so blown away by the fact that coaching had changed the trajectory of my life, that I realized it was what I wanted to do for others! I’ve spent the better part of the last year doing just that, standing with clients as they
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Keep Falling

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Two Monday’s ago, I woke up at 5 am and took the bag I had packed for a weekend in the Hamptons full of shoes and once worn dresses and re-zipped it.  I grabbed the nearest big blue Ikea bag and tipped my laundry basket into it, watching as the clothes cascaded out of it, like a cotton avalanche. I kissed my boyfriend good-bye as he sleepily slid toward my side of the bed.  I heaved this monstrosity of dirty clothes over my shoulder and lifted my rolling luggage out the front door to the 2011 Subaru Impreza that I share with my little brother. This little silver bullet of a car has almost 150,000 miles on it, smells like my little brothers dirty gym clothes, and in that moment opening up  the car door made me happier than I can even express. I needed a break from Brooklyn, and this sweet little four wheeled wonder was my ticket out. I didn’t worry about the wonky back bumper, or that the check engine light has been on basically since we got it a few months ago.  I just saw the E ZPa
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