I’ve been on a hiatus from my blog, doing a bit of soul (and, admittedly, sole) searching…

Most recently, I took a road trip  up the coast from LA on heavenly Highway 1 for a highly anticipated vacay to Big Sur and Monterey with my hubs.

[Insert Deep Exhale here]

It was a much needed escape from what had been a few hard months of life and loss (love you, poppy!!! 1912-2012), ups and downs, and all arounds.  But what struck me most profoundly about our little excursion out of the desert– beyond the awe-inspiring, breath-taking panorama of Pacific that lay directly to our left– was the idea that we were living in a moment that had been looked forward to, anticipated, and finally, achieved.  And suddenly, there we were.  At our destination… and I still felt somewhat unsettled.

Wasn’t everything supposed to be “okay” once I got “there?”

Over the course of the first 24 hours at the incredibly luxe, modern “rustic” Post Ranch Inn (we weren’t exactly roughing it), I finally allowed my stress to begin to slip away, to inhale the salty ocean air, and to exhale the deceptive airs of my  perfectionist self.  I finally began to RELAX.

Then, on the third day, we rented some mountain bikes and headed out on the windy road known, famously, as The 17 Mile Drive, that lines the coast from Pebble Beach down through Carmel and back around.  The day was foggy, the ocean roaring, waves crashing down to our right, cars passing us by on our left, as we rode through the mist.  And for the very first time in months, I felt at peace.  I thought about the manuscript I had just submitted to my lit agent; of the wonderful legacy my grandfather had just left behind as his spirit moved from the earth to more heavenly planes; of my 97 year old grandmother who continued to sculpt and create and inspire, as she looked forward to the day she’d join her beloved again; I thought about my own gorgeous, incredible, wise-beyond-her-years three year old daughter whose life has given mine its every ounce of meaning; I thought about the expansive nature of the ocean that accompanied me on my ride.

The road was long, the air was chilly, and the angle of the path at an incline.  But there was no place at that moment that I would have rather been.  Then, as if someone knocked on the door to my daydream, a man on a bike coming from the opposite direction yelled out to me and my husband: “You’ve got a long way to go!”

To go where? I thought…  Isn’t THIS “IT?”  Isn’t the ride the whole thing?  I mean, as far as I knew, we weren’t riding to get somewhere; we were just in it for the ride.

And then, like a ton of bricks, it hit me.  Duh.  Could the Universe have been anymore transparent at that moment?  This was a metaphor for my life.

We are all constantly trying to get “There” so that then, we will at long last, be happy.  I honestly don’t know a single person who doesn’t or hasn’t thought or felt this way at some point in her life, if not all of her life (um, that’s me).   It’s human nature, really.  But if we are ever to enjoy our lives, to be “happy in the moment”, then the ride has to be THE WAY.  There can’t be a destination.  THE NOW is the destination.  THE RIDE is the destination.  Because, like the man said, “there’s a long way to go before you get there” and who knows if you ever will.  So might as well make the ride the there.  

“Living in the moment” is a practice and an art.  Its not something you can do all the time, every  second of every day.  After all, you have to make the toast and get the kid off to school.  You can’t be marveling at their every waking move and your every audible breath.  But if we stop– every now and then– and really take pleasure in the RIDE, really relax into the only moment that exists, then I do believe we have truly ARRIVED.***

*** Note: The above post is, admittedly, FULL of a concept we have heard over and over again in our lives.  Cliche, even.  I’m practically annoyed with myself.  And yet, it bears repeating, doesn’t it?   I think so.

SYLVIA COOPER.mov

For all of you spiritual girls living in this material world, for all of you who want to know what it really means to be truly wealthy, take a look at this short clip of my 97 year old grandmother, Sylvia Cooper– sculptress, speaker, philanthropist, mother, grandmother, and consummate spiritual girl living in a material world.  She is my hero, my teacher, my lifeblood.  I am truly blessed.

But do not be fooled, this is a woman who never leaves the house– even to make a visit to Cedars for a doctor appointment- without dressing to the nines. She always “puts on her face” — as she likes to say about doing her makeup– and wears a most thought-out ensemble, accessories included.  She believes in the beauty of our world, in art, in books, in experiencing life to its fullest.  But she also firmly believes that “everything we do for others, we ultimately are doing for ourselves.” In other words, giving is truly receiving. And she would know: she has given and received so much in her near century of life.

And speaking of giving and receiving, over Thanksgiving, my Nanny took me back into her closet and showered me with old gowns– dresses she wore to  dine with Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe (my Poppy, Frank Cooper, was the baseball great’s manager),  dance to the musical stylings of Frank Sinatra (another of my grandfather’s clients), and dream about all of the ways in which she might save the world.  Then she gave me her most treasured pair of shoes– heels she hadn’t worn in decades.  And although we both wear a perfect size 6, I just can’t imagine that I will ever be able to fill such large shoes….

http://www.sylviacooper.com/

http://blogs.calgaryherald.com/2011/12/12/making-monday-better-with-holiday-spirit/

A little “spiritual girl in a material world” gift-giving item from Gabby Bernstein, the “Spirit Junkie” herself! xo

Peace & Love

I won’t paint my nails green or dye my hair the color of broccoli, but I absolutely have what the New York Times has deemed “Muppet Mania.” There are few things that make me as happy as a good episode of the Muppet Show.  And one of my all time favorite movies is The Muppets Take Manhattan.  I simply cannot wait until their new movie comes out.  Jim Henson knew how to fill a kid (and adults) spirit when he created those furry friends and now leading designers are lining up to capitalize off of Kermy and Piggy’s love.   Its funny how something is so unpopular until culture renders it popular.  I mean, Kermit sings a whole song about how its not easy being green… and now, all of a sudden, its THE thing to be.  Says who?  Culture?  The other Muppets?  Hollywood?

Come opening day, I may rock the green… I may not.  (Does Rebecca Minkoff make green booties?)

Either way,  I’ll definitely be first in line for the Thanksgiving premiere of the new Muppet movie. Because you’re never too old to be a kid– even if its not the popular thing to be.

http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/alltherage/2011/11/muppet-mania-kermit-makes-his-fashion-felt.html?track=latiphoneapp

Guru Singh <3

For those of you who know me, you know that I now spend most of my days in the beautiful sprawling deserts of the southwest.  Those of you in the know are also quite aware that my heart remains in my 2nd city of residence, the city of Angels.  Living a busy life commuting between Phoenix and LA for both family and work, it is the rare occasion that I actually get a free day all to myself– no family, no friends, no meetings, no classes– just me and my urban love, the city of Los Angeles.  (FYI, I realize here that I am channeling a bit of my inner-Anthony Kiedis, circa Under the Bridge).

But on this Halloween weekend, I made it a point to secure a playdate with Poppy and Sha Sha for my lovely 3 year old Emerson Eden, so that I may visit my first and foremost yoga teacher, spiritual guide, and real-life friend, the incomparable Guru Singh.

I met Guru Singh when I was 18 years old and, since then, have been seeing him on a regular basis for the only type of therapy I know which literally UPLIFTS on both a physical and spiritual level.  Its called  Sahaj Shabd Therapy.

The idea behind it being that we are, on the smallest level, composed of vibrating cells, and, when happy and healthy, our cells vibrate at a higher frequency than when we are not doing so hot. Sound therapy raises our vibrations, thereby creating a shift in both our mental and physical state, and this leads to a chain of events wherein we simply Feel Better.

Sahaj Shabd is an ancient therapeutic technique using harmonic sound. It was revived thirty years ago by Yogi Bhajan, and taught to Guru Singh  because of his affinity with music. Sahaj Shabd literally means the ease of sound. In this therapy the goal is to restore human  harmony within a pure  atmosphere of natural tones. Among these tones are a steady Schumann resonance (fourth octave), ascending and         descending harmonic melodies, phase shifted binaural beat tones and a background of steady and measured heartbeats that entrain the body into deep relaxation.

Shabd Therapy is that it’s able to transport a student into a deep meditative trance almost immediately. During treatment our awareness                                          transcends this physical world. Since doubt and fear are attached to the physical sensations, Sahaj Shabd Therapy introduces us to our more doubt- free and fear-less possibilities.   — Guru Singh

A single visit for treatment with Guru Singh costs somewhere around $200 a pop— and trust me, it is not lost on me that I could return to Phoenix rocking a new pair of Pour La Victoire heels or Calleen Cordero platform booties, but when push comes to shove– or, more accurately, when spirit comes to sole, I’ll take a boost in the former rather than a lift of the later.  But why, you may ask, when the sacred ascent will be fleeting and the corporeal lift potentially eternal?

Trust me, I’ve asked myself the very same question on nights when I’m getting all dolled up for a date with my increasingly fashion savvy hubby.

But then I remember: when I don’t FEEL good, nothing else matters.  I don’t care if I have just won a $5000 shopping spree to Barney’s shoe department (well, its never actually happened, so I can only imagine), if my deep sense of Self is not cared for, if I am vibrating on a low, barely audible frequency, then nothing else matters.  Its the same with eating a diet rich in nutrients, pushing myself to take the yoga class when I’d rather nap, or volunteering when I’d rather visit the beauty salon.  If we don’t feed our spirits, what good are our soles?  No matter how gorg they may appear to the naked fashionista eye?

My morning with Guru Singh only lasted 2 hours, but his modalities and his wisdom reset my baseline of operating and, cumulatively, its effects will last forever.

Before we left LA, my hubby walked Emerson and me into my favorite shoe cobbler’s store on Beverly Blvd.  Knowing that Calleen Cordero’s are my most favorite kicks, he leaned over and whispered into my ear:  “I’m proud of you for all the hard work you’ve been doing lately.  I want to treat you to anything you want in the store.”

I smiled and said, “thank you SO much, babe!”

And then, after admiring the hand-crafted goods throughout the boutique, I left–empty-handed– because I was so full of love and gratitude, I didn’t feel like I needed anything more.  I guess when your spirit is flying high on the greatest of frequencies, shoes just seem unnecessary.

p.s. And anyhow, I’m pretty sure my closet has reached its CC quota for 2011.

Sat Nam, Guru Singh and Guru Pru Karma.  May the long time sun shine upon you both.

Gabrielle Bernstein and I have never met, but on some energetic level, I think we may very well be sisters.  We are both petite with long hair. We are both city girls with a background in media and the arts. We have both overcome the inner demons that threatened to rob us of our birthrights (you know, health, happiness, holiness).  And we are both writers, with an appreciation for fashion and the finer things in life– but with an even greater appreciation for those things in life that cannot be quantified or monetized.  We are both spiritual girls living in a material world.

Gabby’s new book (I like to call her “Gabby” as if we are already besties, because, well, on some level, we are) “Spirit Junkie: A Radical Road to Self-Love and Miracles” pretty much says it all.

In the same way that I attempted to lead the way for tweens and teens in my book “Um, Like…OM: A Girl Goddess’s Guide to Yoga,” Gabby does for the older set.  Through personal memoir and a modernized interpretation of Marianne Williamson’s A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of a Course in Miracles, Gabby demonstrates that a life well lived is a life where fear and self-doubt are replaced with love, faith, and unwavering self-compassion.

Elle magazine called Gabrielle today’s role-model replacement for “Carrie Bradshaw”, but I’m not so sure about that; I think she’s represents the perfect balance between Carrie and, say, Krishnamurti.  I mean, have you taken a look at her adorable ensembles?  (I’m partial to her high-fashion angel wings get-up).

And yet, it is made quite clear through her words and actions that she takes all of her worldly gifts in stride, realizing that it is not the clothes that make the woman, but rather the heart, the soul, the Self inside.  And… isn’t that what a true Spiritual girl in a material world does?  Appreciate the material, but VALUE the spiritual.

If she’s a spiritual junkie, well, then, I so am I.  Must be in the genes.

http://www.luckymag.com/blogs/luckyrightnow/2011/08/yogavibes-yoga-for-heels-rainbeau-mars-video-lucky-magazine

Um, sore feet?

yogavibes.com

if you love high heels…by LUCKY staffers

The team at YogaVibes has worked up another Lucky exclusive just for our readers— this one goes hand-in-hand with our Fall shoe guide, as it’s the perfect antidote to the season’s sky-high heels and wedges. Teacher Rainbeau Mars (we know- wasn’t she destined to be a yoga teacher with a name like that?) will guide you through some great poses to stretch out all the muscles in your legs and feet that can’t help but be a little cranky after hours of walking around on jacked-up heels. Enjoy!

These boots were made for Fishing

It’s been too many months since I’ve “dropped some wisdom” (as an old college friend of mine used to say of my rants and raves)… but I’ve been busy doing the summertime thing.  And I hope you have been too.

Funny thing is, for all of the Matt Bernson strappy grecian style sandals, Elizabeth and James light-as-air platform wedges, and Sienna Miller inspired camel suede booties I’ve drooled over (and worn, lucky me) this summer, its the most frightful of footwear that truly brought me the greatest happiness this summer.  (See photo.  And, please, allow me to explain before turning me in to the fashion cops).

You see, sometimes I get so caught up in what LOOKS GOOD that I forget about what FEELS GOOD.  And this summer, on a Cooper Family trip to Aspen, Colorado, I was reminded of what truly living life is all about.  Okay, okay, so Aspen isn’t exactly fashion-oblivious.  We weren’t exactly “roughing it” in the “wildnerness. ” But that’s what’s so great about Aspen: it totally epitomizes the sentiment (and seemingly contradictory concepts) of this blog: SPIRIT and SOLE.  True meaning and utter frivolity.  Its a town built amidst some of the most lush, green, and gorgeous earth in the world.  Seriously, you have to see it for yourself to believe it.  The rivers and streams are awe-inspiring.  The mountains and meadows are breath-taking.

And after a 25 mile bike ride alongside the Roaring Fork river (you’ve never seen beauty like this before!!) and a killer hike up The Ute trail (um, hello butt muscles!) , what a pleasure it is to grab an iced soy latte at the upscale Peaches cafe and stroll through Ralph Lauren’s Aspen outpost or pop in to take a look at Gucci’s pre-fall arrivals or even grab a new basic white tee at James Perse.  Ah, so much beauty to be witnessed, both Natural and Manufactured.

One might even surmise that Aspen is the perfect town for me.  (At least, my husband wishes it was.  He spent the whole trip deliberating a move).  I don’t think I could ever LIVE in Aspen , but I can say that its where I am reminded of HOW to live.

The lovely shoes  pictured above are the waterproof boots I wore to go fly-fishing.  Have you ever fly-fished?  You’re right, I should remember who my readers are. How about this: have you ever seen the movie A River Runs Through It?  Yeah, now I got your attention.  Well, those beautiful boys were fly-fishing, standing mid-burbling brook, casting a light-weight line upstream, patiently allowing the fly-indicator to float downstream, and then quietly re-casting back upstream.  Some city-slickers might think this sounds like a very boring activity.  Some might even say that there is not much worse than sporting a really awful looking pair of boots and being bored out of one’s mind.

But allow me to assure you, this is not and was not, the case.

Fly fishing is one of the most magical, meditative, and soulful sports.

Standing knee-deep in waders (waterproof over-all thingies) and these chunky, lace-up, mud-brown boots, one realizes that even the unsightliest of SOLES have  a purpose beyond  mere image.  In fact, more often than not, it is only when we dare to strip ourselves of the superficial, culturally imposed standards of beauty that we rediscover the true beauty of our SPIRIT.

There is function in form.  The hideous boots that kept my feet dry and warm while fishing prove this.  And there is value in emptiness.  Those who have suffered most, lost all, and still manage to rise above their fears and failures prove this. It is not enough to just exist.  We must LIVE.

When I got to Aspen, I was so caught up in my everyday stresses that I was missing precious moments in my life. (Even my 3 year old’s tantrums will one day give way to a 16 year old flying out the door saying ‘see ya later, mom!’) Stopping, slowing down, and surrounding myself in Nature seemed to jolt me out of what had clearly become a spiritual slump.

Who would have thought it would take a pair of really hideous SOLES to re-awaken my SOUL?!  Course, now that I’ve taken a step closer to enlightenment, I’m going back to my more fanciful footwear  … at least until ski season.  Have you seen ski boots?!

P.S. No animals were harmed in the process of my spiritually-inclined sporting, as fly fishing is catch-and-release.  (Also, for the record, I caught 8 trout.  No sole, in case you were wondering).

Giving insecurity the BOOT!!! (specifically, the Fiorentini & Baker boot)

Okay, so, what I want to know is this: why, after all of these years of dedicating myself to the spirit, to mind over matter, to the untouchable, indescribable reality of my Inner Being, do I still care so much about the illusory, ephemeral ever-changing impression of my Outer Self?

In simple terms: Why do looks still matter so much?

This has been the guiding theme of my past week—mostly likely because I am pre-moon-cycle—or, in layman’s terms: A Raging PMS Monster.  But also because the question never really goes away; it only hides for a while until my hormones rage or my emotions flare, or until facebook confirms the marriage of a previous flame to a girl 5 years younger and 5 inches taller than myself. (No matter that I married the love of my life—because, after all, its not about the guy; its about the girl!).

Everyone focuses on diseases of the body, but I do believe that one of the most prevalent diseases of our time is one of the Mind.  (And, of course, ailments of the mind often lead to those of the body).  I’m talking about Chronic Discontent, a disorder whose central characteristic is never being happy with what we’ve got.

Most of the time, I’m pretty darn happy.  I am ever grateful for a face that the world tells me remains years younger than my age reveals.  I am strong, healthy (thank you, god), and blessed with a body that was able to produce the world’s arguably most gorgeous, funny, and precious child I could ever dream of calling my own.  I AM BLESSED.

But I am human.  And I am a girl. And I live in the real world.  And I love fashion and popular culture.  And this means that some days, I will worry, stress, and lament my own LOOKS.

And yet, I ask you: Why do we do this to ourselves, ladies?!!

Certainly, it doesn’t help that I happened to have married a plastic surgeon.   He is beyond talented in sculpting bodies marred from childbirth back into their pre-baby glory and he is best known for his “natural” looking results.  He also happens to be one of the most down-to-earth, LEAST judgmental people I have ever met.  His aim is true and he delivers absolutely stunning results.  But it doesn’t really help MY cause.  You know, the one wherein I attempt to emphasize essence over appearance; spirit over image? After all, as a yoga instructor (primarily to teenage girls, at that), this is what I’ve come to be known for—my allegiance to a life that focuses on anything BUT image!

Again, allow me to point out my HUMANITY.  No one who lives in the real world; in our egocentric, image-based, beauty-worshipping environment is immune to the obvious cultural biases and emphasis we place on looks. All we can do is RECOGNIZE when we are getting caught up in the illusion of it all.

Which brings me to the title of this post.

The other night, my hubby and I went to see The Old 97s—an awesome folk-rocky high-energy band (actually featured in the Jen Aniston flick, The BreakUp) led by the gorgeous and soulful Rhett Miller.  Beyond just being excited to be momentarily out of our toddler-centric lifestyle, I was thrilled to get out and hear some good old-fashioned live music.  And as we stood 2 feet away from the stage, and basically leaning against the bar in the tiny Phoenix venue, I noticed an interesting dichotomy—as only an over-analytical nutter like me would:  The opening band—or rather, the opening singer/songwriter, was a slightly over-weight, semi-attractive girl with a nearly shaved head and thighs that def should not have been swathed in skinny jeans (just sayin’- boot cut flatters all, ladies). But her voice was UNREAL; her self-written tunes soulful, moving, chill-inducing.  I watched her play guitar and belt out songs from her eponymous debut record and couldn’t help but envy her talent, her ability, her unique gift and means of expressing it.  Standing in stark contrast, directly behind the bar was a fast-moving, enviably gorgeous female bartender.  Tall and fit, with thick, wavy blond hair and a perfect (if “perfect” is what we find in Vogue magazine) face; a body out of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition; this girl had the looks Everygirl secretly wished she had.

And I couldn’t help but ask myself:  which one of these girls would I rather be?

(Why I play these head games with myself is anybody’s guess).

In the end, I decided I’d take the voice and the talent.

What’s even more interesting is that, I do have the voice (albeit in a different form) and the talent.  Or at least, that’s what I choose to believe.  And I might not be tall and blond, but I’ve been called “pretty”- for whatever it’s worth- a few times in my day.

So in the end, I decided I’D RATHER JUST BE ME.

This whole internal dialogue I had (none of which my husband even knew was going on, naturally) was a stark reminder that we should ALL (continue to) focus less on what look like and more on WHO WE ARE.  Because ULTIMATELY, we only look as good as we FEEL.  And the only way to FEEL GOOD is to live in our own gratitude for the life and loves and talents we’ve been given.  And really, we’ve all been given SO MUCH.

Of course, I’m not going to relinquish my love of fashion or my addiction to platform shoes; I’m not going to toss my collection of Nars products or give up my flatiron. I’m certainly not going to stop searching for the perfect-fitting maxi-dress this summer.

I’m just going to start putting my energy towards what I can offer to the world, rather than how I look in it.

One for me, one for you

It’s been a few weeks since my last post and that’s because I’ve been in the toddler trenches.  My beautiful newly-turned 3 year old, Emerson, has been sick with one virus after another, which, I’m told, is common for children of this age.  Only problem is, that means no time to write, and TOO much time to surf the internet for shoes (writing requires some semblance of concentration; the other I can do with Dora blasting in the background).  Case in point: 3 unopened boxes from Zappos (destined to all be returned) sitting by my office chair.  (Well, come to think of it, I’ll most likely keep the Elizabeth & James pair- been dying over them since they hit the stands).  So, what, exactly, is the point of this post? you are probably wondering as you drag your mouse to click OFF spiritandsole and onto The Huffington Post… ? Allow me to share:

It’s about the dichotomy between what’s important and what’s frivolous.  And where the two intersect.  And how the later sometimes acts as a numbing cream or boo-boo buddy or chocolate syrup coating for the former—that is, when the former is distressing, painful, anxiety-inducing, and/or any of the trying emotions that come with real-life stressful situations.

I’ve been pondering this discrepancy and how, whenever I get supremely stressed about the “things that matter,” I tend to default my energy towards the things that don’t.  (Well, at least the things that do not matter quite as much…Because you can’t tell me that a superbly fitting pair of slimming-low-waisted Current/Elliot flares do not matter at all).  And I’ve come to a few conclusions about the Everyday Girl’s tendency to shop when stressed:

1. IT’S OK. It’s okay to want to distract the brain from situations that are painful.  That’s normal.  And often times,  HEALTHY.  It’s called SUBLIMATION.  So go ahead girl and channel that negative energy into something creative and positive (even if that means going online and piecing together your dream ensemble from various websites including shopbop, Planet Blue, and Neimans).
2. THIS TOO SHALL PASS. And no matter what it is, you will most likely end up looking back at the stressful situation with some level of nostalgia.  (Um, hello mommies who anguish over sleepless nights with new born babes and then look back when the kid is off to kindergarden, tearing up over how it was just yesterday they were changing the kid’s poopy diapies at 3am).
3. PHILANTHROPY works wonders for all involved.  Satisfy your deep seated need to shop while giving to others.  When things get rough in your life,  I know the tendency is to take, but did you ever consider how great it might make you feel to give to others?  Case(s) in point:

• TOMS Shoes.   Buy a pair, and they donate a pair.  If you haven’t heard of or seen these yet, please, crawl out of your lady-cave.  They’re not only a fundamentally phenomenal cause, but are the super trend right now in Summer 2011 fashion.
• Donating to a favorite charity or someone running/walking for a cause. (The MS Society is my recipient of choice and I recently donated to the campaigns of two childhood friends walking for this cause.  I can assure you, you’ve never met a girl who gets a greater high off of that Piperlime box arriving at my doorstep, but the thrill of GIVING to this cause surpasses even that.  I’d give everything to find a cure).
• Lucky Magazine always lists designers and companies who give proceeds of their sales to charity.

Give yourself a break and know that sometimes, its okay to buy when all you really want to do is cry.  Then remember, giving IS getting, so buy for others or rather, GIVE to others, and some of those problems that have been weighing you down, well… they might just take a hike.