tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46250315130477092152024-03-14T12:42:41.149-04:00Pre-meditated: dancing in the lightA spiritual journey through divorce, meditation, dance and a new lifeRobin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.comBlogger510125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-65106362952297850102014-07-10T11:12:00.000-04:002014-07-10T11:13:09.098-04:00Paris again and Sweden <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's something about Paris and the Luxembourg Gardens that simply make me happy. As soon as I arrive in Paris, I run over to the Gardens and just walk around until I find my favorite spots to sit and take in all the beauty. </div>
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I just spent several days in Paris and though it had some difficult moments for me -- many reminders of being there when we were a family -- and this time I was alone, I found ways to enjoy most of my time there. </div>
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It was definitely one of those AND experiences. I love Paris, it makes me so happy to be there -- AND I wish I was in love or that my daughter, Zoe, had been able to come with me. It's not a great place to be alone. I still managed to enjoy myself and take some long, beautiful walks all over the city and see friends and eat lots of good food.</div>
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I also went up to Sweden for a job. That was amazing! Right up near the Arctic Circle to a city called Lulea. It was a fantastic trip that came as a complete surprise.</div>
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As the character of the mother in my play says, "Life surprises." I am grateful for most of the surprises that show up in my life. And learning how to really be in the moment, helps so much. (I'm still working on that). </div>
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Lulea, Sweden. July 2014<br />
<br />Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-76281945968804912682014-07-01T03:32:00.003-04:002014-07-11T06:16:30.282-04:00Allowing in the goodI am sitting in an apartment in Paris, looking out at the Seine, on the I'le de la Cite (minus the accent marks). I am still trying to take in my good luck. A few years ago, I felt that though I was grateful for many things, trips to Paris and soon Sweden, and recently London and Dublin, San Francisco and LA, and finding work that I love, and working with people I genuinely like and respect, and having my daughter close by, and living in SoHo again surrounded by wonderful neighbors, and slowly starting to date again -- I couldn't have imagined any of that was possible. And yet....<br />
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I want to take these few moments before I leave this beautiful apartment in search of the perfect baguette and a long walk in the Luxembourg Gardens to give thanks...to take a deep breath and take all of this in. <br />
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I woke up this morning and looked out at the Place Dauphine, the beautiful little park that I can see from the bedroom. The first thing I saw was two dogs playing together in the park -- one of them was a beagle. You don't see too many beagles in Paris. I am always thrilled when I see a beagle because I think of my beloved Lucy and Lola and I give thanks for them for saving me in the most difficult times. When my mother was dying, when my family was falling apart, when I was in the middle of the horrible terrible divorce -- Lucy and Lola were there, giving me unconditional love every single day. I miss them more than words can ever express. And I thank them for over 13 years of so much love and laughter. <br />
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I know that the world is always in crisis -- bad news happened yesterday in Israel with the killing of three young men. And in the U.S. with the ridiculous Supreme Court ruling about birth control. But I do still believe that so much good happens every single day and we forget that in the overwhelming evidence of evil and stupidity. <br />
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So let's take a minute and think of all that we can be grateful for and then get back to the work of changing the world. <br />
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Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-18037237099617785512014-06-18T09:27:00.001-04:002014-06-18T09:27:37.977-04:00High Five <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The other day I was riding my bike north along the Hudson River, on the bike path. It was a beautiful day and I could see up in front of me a large group of kids, standing along a fence to the right, holding out their hands for riders to high five. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The bicyclist in front of me was a young guy, he was able to high five a lot of the kids and they cheered. As I was approaching the line I wondered, "Can I do this? Can I ride close enough and hold out my hand without losing balance? And not fall down and look like an idiot?" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I decided to try, I got close to the fence and held out my hand for as many of the kids as I could. There had to have been at least 75 of them, they were probably around 8 years-old, all with their palms out, all cheering and screaming as I slapped as many hands as I could.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I could feel my oxytocin and endorphin or whatever levels rising as I slapped their palms and then rode off happily, continuing my journey north, along the Hudson River. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are studies about how people find happiness in a casual smile with a stranger, or a quick conversation in an elevator, or a doctor's waiting room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Try high fiving a group of 75 kids. It made <i>me</i> feel like a rock star. </span></div>
Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-74784901872997031802014-05-18T12:46:00.002-04:002014-05-19T07:06:53.035-04:00Gratitude, gratitude, gratitudeThe past couple of weeks have been rather challenging for Zoe and me. She started a new job and I have a busy month with difficult jobs.<br />
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So, I am reminded during these times when I feel overwhelmed, to always remember to be grateful too.<br />
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Here is what I am grateful for:<br />
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Zoe<br />
Spring<br />
New York City<br />
My job<br />
Zoe's job<br />
Health<br />
My home<br />
Great friends<br />
My ex husband Steve is feeling better and managing another round of chemo more easily this time<br />
Great weather<br />
Traveling<br />
The nicest people to work with<br />
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What are you grateful for?<br />
<br />Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-88581093793286164572014-04-01T16:43:00.002-04:002014-04-01T16:46:23.711-04:00Five years later Five years ago this month, my marriage ended. We didn't separate for several more months and the divorce took over two years to be final, but the marriage ended in April of 2009. <br />
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I have never experienced anything quite that painful. It didn't help that I had also lost my job because of the economy and that on June 9, 2009 my mother died. And my daughter decided to move to California and then I had to move. So with two dogs and no job, the end of a 23 year relationship and the death of my mother, I somehow managed to get through the most intense period of fear and grief I had ever known.<br />
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I got so much support from friends. I was so lucky to have resources like therapy and different communities (especially Friends In Deed). The grief was so intense I don't think I could take a deep breath for months and I know that I lost probably 20 pounds within the first two months. That was a perk, to be honest. For years I'd struggled to lose those pounds and they simply fell off. <br />
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Five years later, I feel stronger in many ways and happier most of the time. I feel grateful that I've learned to live an independent life and that the loneliness I feel sometimes is better than the loneliness I felt when I was married. <br />
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<i>This too shall pass. One day at a time. Surrender. </i><br />
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All those trite expressions really are true. Everything I learned from reading Pema Chodron helped me. <br />
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I think I will go back to the Big Group at Friends In Deed tonight just to give thanks for all the support I got there and to listen. <br />
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Five years later I am not the same person was and I am deeply grateful for the lessons I learned. They were painful lessons, but I think maybe that's the only way we really ever learn them. And I am grateful most of all for my sense of humor -- which I sometimes forget about -- but somehow I'm always reminded to laugh. Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-48449206766962346782014-01-24T10:28:00.002-05:002014-01-24T10:30:01.223-05:00A reason to love winter - Snowstorm Central Park 1/21/14 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-9416752137674260892014-01-23T16:31:00.001-05:002014-01-24T06:24:54.309-05:00Survey redoI was looking back at the year 2010 for the book that I am writing about traumatic growth (i.e. my lousy divorce) and I found this little questionnaire/survey. So I thought it would be interesting to answer it again, four years later and see how different the answers are:<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2c0033; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><b>Your cell phone:</b> BlackBerry<span style="color: blue;"> <span style="color: magenta;">I phone</span></span><br />
<b>Your hair:</b> Brown <span style="color: magenta;">Still brown</span><br />
<b>Your mother:</b> Dead <br />
<b>Your father:</b> Dead<br />
<b>Your favorite food:</b> Chocolate chip cookies <span style="color: magenta;">Eggplant Parmigiana</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2c0033; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><b>Your dream last night:</b> I visited my mom <span style="color: magenta;">Can't remember</span><br />
<b>Your favorite drink:</b> Champagne <span style="color: magenta;">Water</span><br />
<b>Your dream goal:</b> Writing and making a living at it again <span style="color: magenta;">Writing and speaking and coaching public speaking</span><br />
<b>What room are you in:</b> Bedroom <span style="color: magenta;">Bedroom</span><br />
<b>Your hobby:</b> bicycling <span style="color: magenta;">Dancing!</span><br />
<b>Your fear:</b> dying too young <span style="color: magenta;">Watching someone I love being sick</span><br />
<b>Where do you see yourself in 6 years:</b> Writing and in love <span style="color: magenta;">Writing, traveling and in love</span><br />
<b>Where were you last night:</b> Friends In Deed <span style="color: magenta;">Home (it was cold out)</span><br />
<b>Something you aren't:</b> Daredevil <span style="color: magenta;">Depressed - sometimes I'm sad, sometimes I'm happy. But there's so much in the world to worry about. </span><br />
<b>Muffins:</b> Chocolate zucchini from City Bakery <span style="color: magenta;">Chocolate chip</span></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2c0033; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><b>Wish list item: Book contract or play produced <span style="color: magenta;">Play was produced! Now I hope for a book/speaking tour</span></b> <br />
<b>Where did you grow up:</b> Long Island<br />
<b>Last thing you did: Watched Jon Stewart <span style="color: magenta;">Ate lunch</span></b> <br />
<b>What are you wearing:</b> a T-shirt <span style="color: magenta;">Polar tech jacket</span><br />
<b>Your TV: I'm addicted <span style="color: magenta;">Mostly watch TV on ipad these days</span></b> <br />
<b>Your pets:</b> Two beagle girls <span style="color: magenta;">Waaa</span><br />
<b>Friends:</b> All around me <span style="color: magenta;">A few close friends</span><br />
<b>Your life:</b> Up and down, mostly up<span style="color: magenta;"> Interesting! Challenging! Travel, coaching, meeting lots of people.</span><br />
<b>Your mood:</b> Edgy <span style="color: magenta;">Depends on the hour - right now, good. Happy (considering it's winter)</span><br />
<b>Missing someone:</b> My daughter <span style="color: magenta;">Lucy</span><br />
<b>Vehicle:</b> Feet <span style="color: magenta;">Citibike</span><br />
<b>Something you aren't wearing:</b> shoes <span style="color: magenta;">A bra</span><br />
<b>Your favorite store:</b> Lord and Taylor (because no one else is there) <span style="color: magenta;">Still Lord & Taylor</span><br />
<b>Your favorite color:</b> Blue <span style="color: magenta;">Still blue</span><br />
<b>When was the last time you laughed:</b> Last night watching John Oliver on Jon Stewart <span style="color: magenta;">Biggest laughs 700 Sundays</span><br />
<b>Last time you cried:</b> Last night watching John Oliver on Jon Stewart (kidding) Last night <span style="color: magenta;">A few days ago</span><br />
<b>Your best friend: Lucy <span style="color: magenta;">Karen/Abigail/Bella/Barbara all great friends in NYC - I miss Emily </span></b><br />
<b>One place you go over and over:</b> Movie theaters <span style="color: magenta;">Central Park</span><br />
<b>Facebooking:</b> Too often <span style="color: magenta;">Annoying and helpful</span><br />
<b>Favorite place to eat:</b> NoHo Star, Shake Shack, Gotham <span style="color: magenta;">Ummami Burger, NoHo Star, Lovely Day</span></span><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2c0033; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="color: magenta;">Some things have changed...some remain the same. Most of all I miss Lucy and Lola and I'm so grateful Zoe lives in NYC again. </span></span></i> <br />
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</span>Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-18399770645735983112013-12-31T16:18:00.001-05:002013-12-31T16:18:19.806-05:00Another year older...and so gratefulA few years ago I thought that I had gone through some tough times and that life would spare me at least for awhile. But now I know there is no sparing -- there are, in the course of every year, beautiful, joyous times AND really bad, difficult times.<br />
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This year was no exception.<br />
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The beautiful joyous times were simple days of spending time with my daughter, Zoe, with friends, traveling around the country and a trip to Dublin, all for work. Riding my bike along the Hudson in the summer and taking long walks in Central Park in every season. <br />
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There was a visit to Emily's house in the country -- bittersweet because of her absence, but still pleasurable.<br />
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My play performed at the Beckett Theater this year, with friends from all areas of my life, old friends, new friends, everyone showing up to see it and lend support. And a cast and crew of the most wonderful people and the challenges that go along with every creative project.<br />
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There was the grief of losing my best friend, Lucy, my beloved beagle, who was with me for 13 years and who died at 17 years of age. I miss her daily and am deeply grateful for having had her for all those years. She was truly a faithful companion. <br />
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I'm grateful that my ex husband and I were able to forgive each other and start up a new... friendship. I would not have imagined this a few years ago, but forgiveness is a powerful tool -- and cancer seems to completely change the landscape. He really showed up for a harrowing summer and survived and we are all so grateful. <br />
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2013 ends quietly... I feel that life has forced so many of us to seek comfort in being quiet, by going within. <br />
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One of my favorite pieces of advice I heard recently came from the playwright Tracy Letts: spend at least 30 minutes a day staring at the wall, or looking out the window. I don't have much of a view, but I think I will start at my wall and give thanks for this past year and gratitude for the coming one. Just being alive is reason enough to be celebrate. <br />
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Emily Squires' pond in Lake Ariel, Pa. August 2013.<br /><br />Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-35403927558613486602013-12-30T10:10:00.001-05:002013-12-30T10:10:58.438-05:00Stepping Through Fear
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<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
When I was young, I was relatively
fearless—I loved climbing trees and diving off high diving boards. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
After college, I sold my car and
went to Europe to travel for several months and when I returned, I moved 3,000 <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=4625031513047709215" name="_GoBack"></a>miles away from my family to Los Angeles to pursue a career
in show business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I moved with a
boyfriend, but quickly broke up with him when I realized I was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">only </i>23 years-old and had no desire to
get married right away. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
I had an interesting dating life, slow
at first, but the highlight was my boyfriend, Doug, whom I adored and who
happened to be the stepson of Art Carney.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We hung around with Art, Doug’s mom, and people like Robert Altman, Lily
Tomlin and Lucille Ball.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
If I was intimidated to be in the
presence of some of the greats who came to parties, you wouldn’t have known it.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I admit to being too shy to play
charades with Lucy. She often jumped up after someone finished their turn and
said, “Wait!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is how you
should have done it!” —and then proceeded to act it out her way, which quite
honestly was always better. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
One Father’s Day we were at
Chasen’s and a parade of celebrities joined our table, including Frank Sinatra,
Jack Haley (the Tin Man from “The Wizard of Oz”), David Janssen, and Liza Minnelli.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I appreciated those incredible
opportunities to meet<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>people whose
work I admired so much while my own fledgling<span style="color: #00b0f0;"> </span>career
was beginning to take off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For my
birthday one year, Art wrote me a poem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This was the first stanza:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Here’s to our dear Robin Amos,</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">who at this point is not quite so famous.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">But she’s sure a fine gal and much more than
a pal, </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%; margin-left: 0.5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and I’m sure that in time she will tame us.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
I became a television writer at 27
(“The Young and the Restless”) and then a couple of years later, I started
making the rounds at studios to pitch movie ideas—and that was when my
confidence started to wane. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
There weren’t many women
screenwriters in those days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nora
Ephron wasn’t well known yet and the adage, “If you can’t see it, you can’t be
it” felt true for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I soon got
married, retreated to New York (telling myself that there were many great
screenwriters in New York) and became a mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though I kept writing, I still struggled with confidence and
watched enviously as my photographer husband travelled around the world for
work and I kept plugging away at writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
I had readings of screenplays and
plays and started writing for a website, Club Mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ten years ago,
my own mother got really sick and for the last 7 years of her life, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found myself becoming a caregiver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was one of the accomplishments of my
life I’m <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>most proud of and yet the
endless doctor’s visits, hospital stays, hospice care (twice), late night phone
calls, racing out to emergency rooms… all made me put my writing on a back
burner. I began to feel lost—and when it was all over, when my mother finally
died—everything fell away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
marriage ended, my daughter (now grown) moved 3,000 miles away and in my 50’s, I
had to totally recreate my life.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
Talk about fear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
There’s a phrase I’ve heard:
“catastrophe is what often re-orders our lives.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like a catastrophe when I didn’t quite know what to
do with myself after a 23 year marriage and all the care-giving I had
done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I had left was two dogs
and myself. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
And…two big phobias.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One was flying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had always loved flying, but on a
trip when my daughter was four and we were on a flight from Cancun back to New
York, we flew through a Nor’easter, hugging the east coast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The flight attendants barely stood
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately, my daughter slept
through the entire flight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If she
had woken up, she would have seen me clutching the armrests or holding the hand
of the stranger sitting next to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After that, flying became something that I avoided—and if I had to fly,
I would do so with a bottle of Valium or Xanax, ready to take the entire
bottle, if I needed to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
My other fear was speaking in
public.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was one of those kids in
school who often raised her hand (except in math) and had always been
comfortable speaking up, but after so many years as a writer, I was used to
living a more solitary life and had no need to speak in front of groups of
people. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
At one point, I went to career
coach and when he asked me to tell him the story of my life I had him laughing
so much that he announced, “You must write <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and
</i>speak!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are a
performer!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said, “Yes!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love that!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and walked out of his office and told everyone I was going to
be a writer and speaker—then never once had the nerve to try it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything I wrote I gave to others to
perform, even though a part of me thought, “I would like to try that…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But fear stopped me cold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
Three years after my husband and I
separated, I found myself in a public speaking class called OWN THE ROOM. I was
terrified. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
Privately, I said to the coach, Bill
Hoogterp, “What if I’m the only person you’ve ever taught who could <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never </i>get it?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bill laughed and told me to tell everyone in the classroom
what I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">all</i> laughed—they all felt the same
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I found my voice in that
class and around the same time I performed a solo show about being a caregiver
to my mother called “Not My Mother.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The first time I performed it I discovered what “cotton mouth” means—you
literally cannot speak, your mouth is so dry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was embarrassing, but I learned to always have a bottle
of water nearby, just in case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
Now, exactly one year later, my
life has taken a 360 degree turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I coach others with OWN THE ROOM, something unimaginable to me before,
and I love it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our soon to be new
mayor, Bill DeBlasio’s wife, Chirlane McCray, shared about her own fear of
speaking in public in a recent article in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Daily News</i>.<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>[ <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/chirchirlane-mccray-fear-public-speaking-article-1.1541131#ixzz2oKwTrEgU">http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/chirchirlane-mccray-fear-public-speaking-article-1.1541131#ixzz2oKwTrEgU</a>]
Addressing a room full of people, she froze. “Inwardly, not outwardly, I was
shaking,” McCray said. “I just stopped.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
McCray also came to OWN THE ROOM to
overcome her fear and has become a great speaker. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As she says now about public speaking, “It’s not that there’s
any magic to it. It’s like a muscle. You just do it, and do it, and do it
again.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
Life and fear seem to walk hand in
hand, but I see when I step through the fear, life gets bigger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And more scary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And more fulfilling. The bottom line is
that when I coach others and help them be more effective speakers by sharing
their stories, I find the strength I need to tell my own stories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
Breathing helps—and knowing that if
you have a message, taking it out into the world requires courage and a big
bottle of Xan…no, never mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 200%;">
Courage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It requires courage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-75417562339422233302013-12-22T22:42:00.000-05:002013-12-23T09:50:48.548-05:00White Christmas<i>"When I'm worried and I can't sleep...I count my blessings instead of sheep...</i><br />
<i>and I fall asleep, counting my blessings..."</i><br />
<br />
Tonight I went across the street to The Crosby Street Hotel to see "White Christmas" - one of my favorite holiday movies. It was co-written by Mel Frank, an old friend, someone I was very close to when I lived in California. Mel's mother lived above me at the Harper House in West Hollywood and we became friends. Eventually, I got to know Mel and most of the Frank family. Seeing "White Christmas" or any of the movies Mel wrote or directed is always very special for me. I can always hear his voice in the dialogue. <br />
<br />
And speaking of counting my blessings...here are a few of mine... my daughter, Zoe, my loftmate, Abigail, good friends...family, Samson, the dog who is staying with us for a few weeks, my health, our lovely home...good neighbors, NYC...my work...my writing...<br />
<br />
So much to be grateful for. And it was also a difficult year. We lost Emily Squires, our dear friend the night before Thanksgiving 2012, and then we lost our beloved Lucy on May 5th, 2013. Then Zoe's dad was diagnosed with lung cancer -- he's doing well now, but it was a rough summer. The play, Scrambled Eggs, was up this spring and we had a fantastic 3 week run. I've gone to Dublin, Chicago, San Francisco, Miami, Atlanta and Charlotte for work. I've done more traveling this past year than I have in many years. It's been challenging and rewarding.<br />
<br />
And I'm proud of the women in Congress who broke the stalemate over the debt crisis. And Obama for getting his health care program up and running (imperfectly, yes, but still today is the deadline and millions of people have signed up.)<br />
<br />
Laws are being passed all over the country to all gay couples to marry! And next - gun control reform. That must happen in 2014. That <i>will</i> happen. <br />
<br />
So many blessings. Happy 2014 to anyone who reads this! Onward. <br />
<br />
<br />Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-65285181070232771352013-10-04T19:59:00.003-04:002013-12-22T22:30:51.839-05:00Men, Divorce and Love<i>My most recent Huff Po blog. Since everything else in the world is such a mess (government shut-down, I'm filled with anger about all of that) -- I thought I'd focus on something lighter. </i><br />
<br />
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<span style="color: #073763;">One night, a few years ago, I went to a party for a
professional organization I am a member of. Most people there were getting pretty drunk, feeling the
effects of the lousy economy. I
saw an old friend of mine, someone I hadn’t seen in many years. He flirted with me and told me, “I’m
married and I’m miserable. I hate my wife and I hate my life.” I was a bit shocked at his honesty, but
I had to admit I wasn’t particularly happy either. He also told me that he’d had a crush on me when we
were young—and would I have dated him back then? I lied and said, “Oh, yes. I would have dated you.” Truthfully, I wasn’t particularly interested
in him way back then. But now, he
had evolved into a mature, attractive man, with a lovely sense of humor, and I
was interested. In fact, I went
home and had my first erotic dream in a long time—and it was about him. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">Two years later we were both divorced. Are we happier divorced? Yes, at least I know I am. Has he asked me out on a date? No. But I haven’t asked him either. I have flirted with him and though it would make such a
great Hollywood story if we did hook up, life isn’t all Hollywood, is it? The point is, we were both miserable
and we had the courage and honesty to do something about it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">I don’t know if he initiated his divorce or his wife
did. In my case, I was the first
one to point out that the patient (our marriage) was on life support and barely
alive and then a few months later, it was my husband who pulled the plug. Excellent teamwork, I have to admit. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">We actually were a great team on
some levels, we functioned well in so many ways. But there were simply too many
losses, we were the Buffalo Bills of marriage. One damn loss after another. It was as if life was saying, “Just because you’ve suited up
for so long doesn’t mean you have to stay in the game.
Run! Get out of there! You’re dying inside.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">So I thought, well, if I can have so much fun flirting at
that party there must be hundreds of interesting men out there. And there are, probably hundreds of
thousands, in the tri-state area alone.
But finding one that I actually want to spend time with, talk to, sleep
with, and forsaking all others for—that’s a different matter. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">A friend of mine, also mature, but never married, told me
her theory about dating men over 50.
Once the need to procreate is past, they are in no rush to get married. And from my own research —neither are
millions of women. I’m reading a
book called <i>Sex at Dawn</i> and one of
its main points is that we are truly meant to be promiscuous, so what’s the
rush to find Mr. or Ms. Right?
(Who, in fact, really don’t exist.) What’s the rush to cook, clean, shop, spend all your time
with one person? Once your kids
are grown, it’s actually quite nice to do whatever the hell you want to
do. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">The truth is, I like being single and I certainly don’t want
to settle for someone unless I totally adore him and he totally adores me. I believe that is possible. I know that is what I would want next
time around.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #073763;">I do know women who dated like mad after their divorce and
met lots of men on-line and slept with most of them and then eventually, after
a couple of years, got married. Well, I know one woman. But she is very
happy and she said the guy she married was nothing like she imagined he would
be and it’s all worked out beautifully. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #073763;">Sometimes I think that like everything else in my life,
when the time is right, when it’s supposed to happen, it will happen. My
mate will materialize. I may have to do the work: go on-line, talk on the
phone, go out for coffees, dinners, walks in the park, send emails and texts
(just thinking about all of this makes me want to lie down).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #073763;">Then again my neighbor reads Tarot cards and the cards
say, “You know him already. He’s someone you’ve known for a long
time.” So I look at every man I know and I think, “Is it you? Is it
you?” So far it isn’t him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 12.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #073763;">I have male friends I adore. But moving from the
friend category to the lover/partner category is fraught with danger. I
see a big <span style="font-size: 14pt;">X</span> when
I think about attempting that with any of my lovely men friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">I did have love after my divorce. I met D at a grief group (he’d lost his brother and his dad,
I’d lost my mother). We became
best friends and hung out all the time
and watched movies, and rode our bikes and talked and we were
inseparable. He wanted it to be
more and I knew it wasn’t supposed to be a <i>relationship
</i>relationship. I just wasn’t
ready. My heart was pretty shut
down after my divorce and I cared too much for him to just fool around. I met some men on-line and fooled
around with them – they were lovely, but unavailable, both by time and
inclination. My friend D started
dating one of my best friends, P, and that nearly killed me. It nearly killed her too because it
didn’t last and everyone’s heart was a tiny bit shattered. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">Now D is with the perfect woman for him, L, I love her almost
as much as I love him. We go to
Sunday night movies together as a group—sometimes the three of us, sometimes
with other friends from the alphabet.
I still love him deeply and I know he loves me too.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">So where is Mr. Next Guy? Beats me. But
truthfully, I know he’s coming.
One of these days. Maybe it
will be at another party and someone will say, “I had a crush on you back in
1983…would you have gone out with me then?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #073763;">And maybe I’ll have the courage to say, “No, probably not in
1983, but I definitely would now, in 2013.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-70750785690476811972013-09-30T16:53:00.004-04:002013-09-30T16:53:44.994-04:00It's been so long...I have been so busy with life and challenges and writing for the Huffington Post, that I haven't had a chance to write on the blog. <br />
<br />
So I'm just going to say that more will follow and I will try to keep updating. <br />
<br />
I'm grateful for Huffington Post, but I miss writing here too. <br />
<br />
My beloved Lucy died on May 5th and my ex-husband was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer this summer. He is doing pretty well and I hope that he will continue to improve. If Valerie Harper can go on Dancing with the Stars, I am hopeful that he can have some good years left. Here's an old photo of Lucy, when she was just 4 and my ex, Steve. Those were happy days. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lPFGlHR_9HlPLOhyEDZOfplVAHGtGWZqwPpqkd65wmEvefm5tWPI-ptIxZ6iwXCLghf91rN6uD_aiHgHqHq735pGoBMKUm_AhvjUaCZQyIrTQvdod38MJAG3cdlVRofmnI3GmfsjuCE/s1600/IMG_2474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lPFGlHR_9HlPLOhyEDZOfplVAHGtGWZqwPpqkd65wmEvefm5tWPI-ptIxZ6iwXCLghf91rN6uD_aiHgHqHq735pGoBMKUm_AhvjUaCZQyIrTQvdod38MJAG3cdlVRofmnI3GmfsjuCE/s320/IMG_2474.JPG" width="231" /></a></div>
<br />Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-68690294042014641592013-04-29T07:14:00.000-04:002013-04-29T07:15:06.358-04:00Scrambled Eggs opens in NYC! I have worked on this play alone, with a dramaturg, and with my writing partner, for many years. Often I would say to myself, "Why are you still working on this? It's a waste of time." But something compelled me to go back to it and to keep re-working it and refining it. And the joy of the writing always motivated me to keep at it. And the desire to entertain and also be of service also inspired me. <br />
<br />
I never really thought that someday it would open in a theater in New York, with an excellent cast and director and that people would come and see it. I never really imagined that there would be an audience for this play and that people in New York, one of the toughest cities in the world to succeed in theater, would actually laugh and really enjoy it.<br />
<br />
This entire experience has been (so far, at least) a labor of love, community, creativity and joy. There have been difficult times, creative arguments, some scary moments, lots of stress, but overall, so far it's been a dream come true and everyone from the assistant stage manager to the director is enthralled with this production. I think the fact that our director has set a tone of generosity and respect for everyone, has given us all a freedom to be part of the creative process, enjoy every moment, to stay in the now, to take each day as it comes. <br />
<br />
I decided to look at one of my Pema Chodron's books this morning and opened to this passage:<br />
<br />
<i>"We never know</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>When we think that something is going to bring us pleasure, we don't know what's really going to happen. When we think something is going to give us misery, we don't know. Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all. We try to do what we think is going to help. But we don't know. We never know if we're going to fall flat or sit up tall. When there's a big disappointment, we don't know if that's the end of the story. It may be just the beginning of a great adventure. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I read somewhere about a family who had only one son. They were very poor. This son was extremely precious to them, and the only thing that mattered to his family was that he bring them some financial support and prestige. Then he was thrown from a horse and crippled. It seemed like the end of their lives. Two weeks after that, the army came into the village and took away all the healthy, strong men to fight in the war, and this young man was allowed to stay behind and take care of his family. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Life is like that. We don't know anything. We call something bad, we call it good. But really we just don't know. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Learning to live with not knowing has been a challenge for me, but I'm definitely getting better at it. Like so many things in life, it is a practice and you just continue working on it, not until you get it right or perfectly, but until it becomes second nature. And I don't know if that ever really happens, because even someone as enlightened as Pema Chodron says she struggles with day to day challenges. <br />
<br />
Just being alive is a gift though. It's almost May, the trees are filled with gorgeous blossoms. And I look forward to tomorrow night, to being back in the theater with my wonderful creative family. Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-63953288340834362062013-04-21T17:27:00.000-04:002013-04-21T17:29:46.566-04:00Life as an experimentI haven't written on this blog in a long time. It's mostly because I've been extremely busy and so much is happening.<br />
<br />
Our play "Scrambled Eggs" is opening this coming week. It's very exciting and also very stressful. I have never had much confidence, so this is really a stretch for me. I know that every creative endeavor, when you put it into the world, requires some nerves of steel, which I don't have. But I do have the awareness that life is about taking risks and sometimes you come out okay and sometimes you don't. <br />
<br />
The fun of this experience has been in the work. I have enjoyed writing this for a long time and working with this cast is a joy. <br />
<br />
Also, I've continued writing for the Huffington Post on various subjects - faith, loss, grief, dancing, divorce, women leaders. It's been a great outlet for me to write anything I am interested in. <br />
<br />
Today, I have mostly been obsessing about the play and how the dress rehearsal had some major mistakes and that the leading man, like me, seems to have terrible allergies. And on and on......my mind can go into the most imaginative and creative disasters. <br />
<br />
So once again, Pema Chodron came to the rescue. I was cleaning out my wallet and I came across this passage, that I carry around with me (and forget to look at):<br />
<br />
"<i>My teacher, Trungpa Rinpoche encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we have nothing to lose.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching Trungpa Rinpoche. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish an amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, Rinpoche's attitude was 'no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against, we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we should just go forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead." </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
As I published this, I noticed that my last blog post included this same passage! Interesting coincidence. I guess it's important that I take this in. Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-24657984717430333332013-02-04T08:31:00.000-05:002013-02-04T08:32:24.548-05:00Turning a cornerWe're now halfway through winter and after a rough start, I find that I am feeling quite content. Maybe part of the reason is having work that I enjoy, making sure I exercise and dance, and finding I can bounce back from feeling blue. Realizing that it's easier to go with the feeling and let it move through me, rather than fight it. Because it does pass and the less I fight it, the faster is seems to go.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
I wanted to share three quotes that I'm sure I've written about before, but really resonate with me and I hope they do with you:<br />
<br />
<i>"It is not the critic that counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again,</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause;</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.....</i><br />
<br />
Theodore Roosevelt<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>"If you want to avoid criticism: do nothing; say nothing; be nothing."</i><br />
<br />
Aristotle<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>"My teacher Trungpa Rinpoche encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we have nothing to lose.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching Trungpa Rinpoche. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish and amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, Rinpoche's attitude was 'it's no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>The trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against, we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we could just go forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead."</i><br />
<br />
Pema Chodron "No Time to Lose"<br />
<br />
I've also been re-reading "The Power of Now" by Eckhart Tolle. I can't believe how much I'm learning, particularly about relationships. Even just saying that there are only 6 more weeks till spring is the antithesis of Tolle's book. There is only now! Enjoy it! Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-12961268030022691132013-01-16T12:14:00.005-05:002013-01-16T12:18:34.820-05:00Winter is hard I have never had an easy time in the winter. I was just looking back at previous posts over the years and every winter I feel blue. I just came from the gym, so that always lifts my mood. Exercise, meditation, reading, gratitude... all of those help. <br />
<br />
I'm listening to President Obama talk now about one of the young students, Grace, who was killed in the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut. I hope that he can succeed in getting effective gun control laws passed. <br />
<br />
Here is a quote from Pema, who always seems to be the person I turn to when I am feeling down:<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"Rejoice in ordinary life"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-style: italic;">"We can learn to rejoice in even the smallest blessings our life holds. It is easy to miss our own good fortune; often happiness comes in ways we don't even notice. It's like a cartoon I saw of an astonished-looking man saying, 'What was that?' The caption below read, 'Bob experiences a moment of well-being.' The ordinariness of our good fortune can make it hard to catch.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The key is to be here, fully connected with the moment, paying attention to the details of ordinary life. By taking care of ordinary things - our pots and pans, our clothing, our teeth - we rejoice in them. When we scrub a vegetable or brush our hair, we are expressing appreciation: friendships toward ourselves and toward the living quality that is found in everything. This combination of mindfulness and appreciation connects us fully with reality and brings us joy."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px;"><i><br /></i></span></span>Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-42903280741107782482013-01-14T08:44:00.001-05:002013-01-15T14:46:24.234-05:00The path of the bodhisattva-warrior<i>"Wherever we are, we can train as a warrior. The practices of meditation, loving-kindness, compassion, joy, and equinimity are our tools. With the help of these practices, we can uncover the soft spot of bodhichitta, the tenderness of the awakened heart. We will find that tenderness in sorrow and in gratitude. We will find it behind the hardness of rage and in the shakiness of fear. It is available in loneliness as well as in kindness. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Many of us prefer practices that will not cause discomfort, yet at the same time we want to be healed. But bodhichitta training doesn't work that way. A warrior accepts that we can never know what will happen to us next. We can try to control the uncontrollable by looking for security and predictability, always hoping to be comfortable and safe. But the truth is that we can never avoid uncertainty. This not knowing is part of the adventure, and it's always what makes us afraid. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Bodhichitta training offers no promise of happy endings. Rather this "I" who wants to find security -- who wants something to hold on to -- can finally learn to grow up. The central question of a warrior's training is not how we avoid uncertainty and fear but how we relate to discomfort. How do we practice with difficulty, with our emotions, with the unpredictable encounters of an ordinary day?"</i><br />
<i>Pema Chodron</i><br />
<br />
I haven't written any posts since November, when my dear friend Emily Squires was in the hospital. Sadly, she died a few days later.<br />
<br />
I just haven't had the heart to write anything because the fall was so bleak and I'm still struggling to get through the days. I miss Em and life feels so uncertain. This morning, I had to read some Pema Chodron to be reminded that this is just the part of life that is real - that we do live in uncertainty and we always will.<br />
<br />
When I fight my sadness, it always seems to dig in deeper, so I will try to sit with it. It's a bleak January day. We went through Hurricane Sandy (which isn't over for thousands of people whose homes were destroyed.) We saw a horrible school shooting and still there is a battle over gun control.<br />
<br />
I'm sitting with sadness this morning and I'm trying not to fight it. I know this too shall pass and that I have so much to be grateful for. Emily is no longer with us and that is truly sad. I just had a thought though, to call a mutual friend this morning, who is probably also missing Emily.<br />
<br />
It's hard to lose someone you love and I loved Emily. I'm watching my dog, Lucy, falling apart. She is 17 now. I'm not sure of the future, but then who is? I wish for happy endings, but if I'm to be a real warrior, I guess I have to accept that there is no promise of happy endings, just this moment, and growing up and relating to discomfort.<br />
<br />
<i>"How do we practice with difficulty, with our emotions, with the unpredictable encounters of an ordinary day." </i>Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-31837622589110261352012-11-19T07:24:00.000-05:002012-11-19T07:24:16.882-05:00Unhappiness is in me, my friend Emily is ill I've been reading "A New Earth" by Eckhart Tolle and though I read parts of it before, once again, when I am ready, I get the lessons I need to learn. Pema Chodron's book "The Wisdom of No Escape" sat on my shelf for years before I was ready to read it. <br />
<br />
This morning I read this paragraph: <i>"Don't seek happiness. If you seek it, you won't find it, because seeking is the antithesis of happiness. Happiness is ever elusive, but freedom from unhappiness is attainable now, by facing what is rather than making up stories about it. Unhappiness covers up your natural state of well-being and inner peace, the source of true happiness."</i><br />
<br />
This past week I have been at the hospital with a dear friend, Emily. I have written about spending time with her and her husband, Len, in the country for years. She is truly one of the most generous and supportive friends I've ever known. Emily is in the ICU at Mt. Sinai Hospital and they don't know what is wrong with her. She's on a breathing tube and for a few days we thought she had no chance, but yesterday, she seemed to be a bit better. The outpouring of concern has been amazing. I don't know if Emily knows how deeply she is loved by so many people all over the world. <br />
<br />
<br />Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-50968313524797387292012-11-12T13:29:00.002-05:002012-11-12T13:30:28.463-05:00Permission to Speak - HUFF POST A few weeks ago I went to two memorial services within two days of
each other. One was for a remarkable man, my friend Lisa's dad, Michael
Dontzen, who lived to 89 and accomplished more in his lifetime than just
about anyone I've ever met. He was a New York State Supreme Court
judge, an aide to Mayor John Lindsay, a lawyer, a brilliant man with so
much passion for justice, that on his deathbed, just a short time before
he passed away, he married a gay couple. This was his last
"professional" duty and he was determined to accomplish that despite the
fact that he could barely speak. <br />
<br />
The second memorial was heartbreaking. It was for a woman named Chris
Twomey. She was an artist and a mother of three. Her art and motherhood
were intertwined and she was passionate about both. She had breast
cancer, which spread throughout her body and after a long, heroic
struggle, she finally died, at age 58. <br />
<br />
There weren't many people who were as determined to live as Chris. She
loved life, she loved making art and she maintained a sense of humor
throughout the years of treatments and tremendous pain. <br />
<br />
I met Chris at Friends In Deed, a pragmatic, spiritual counseling center in Soho, New York. I have <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/robin-amos-kahn/grief-spirituality_b_1744416.html" target="_hplink">written</a> about it <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/robin-amos-kahn/grief_b_1805879.html" target="_hplink">before</a>.
FID saved my life when my life was completely falling apart. One of
the gifts of Friends was that it put me right smack into a community
that understood suffering, so that I was able to feel less alone.<br />
<br />
In her eulogy for Chris, the founder of Friends In Deed, Cy O'Neal,
spoke about Chris's courage. I just happened to be near the front desk
the day that Chris first arrived at FID, announcing "I have breast
cancer" as if she were saying "I just arrived from Paris." I sat in big
groups with Chris for well over a year, and as Cy said, "She always
raised her hand, early in the meeting. She shared whatever was going on
with her, which generally included the work she was doing and some
difficult aspect of her treatment. She always had a strong spirit and a
rich sense of humor and after she spoke, it seemed that she gave
everyone else permission to tell whatever they were going through." <br />
<br />
Like a lot of people, weathering the storm of Hurricane Sandy meant
keeping close to our battery-operated radios. (Actually, I had a crank
radio too, the kind you wind up if you don't have batteries, but it just
made me cranky. If I had to only use that, my arm would have fallen off
by day two, and my only news would be spastic, like "flood waters
reaching... evacuated and you should seek....") People were calling in
all day with the stories of what was happening, good and bad, giving
each other comfort and advice. The radio gave us permission to speak and
a means to reach out to one another when we would have been going it
alone otherwise.<br />
During those five days of sitting in candlelight and mostly silence, I
began to think about community. My neighbors in our building in Soho
supported each other emotionally -- one neighbor, Martin, was staying
uptown with his girlfriend, but each day he came back to the building
and dropped off bags of food for his neighbors, fresh fruit, bagels,
peanut butter, <i>The New York Times</i>. On Halloween, our next door neighbor, Louise, came over and gave us Tarot card readings by candlelight. <br />
<br />
My upstairs neighbor, Barbara, was sitting shiva (a week long mourning
period) for her dad, who passed away a few days before the Hurricane.
The first few days there were dozens of people who came to pay their
respects, but once the hurricane hit, it was harder for family and
friends to get there, so my loftmate, Abigail, and I tried to come up as
much as we could. <br />
<br />
And then, on one of my uptown bike trips, when I had Internet access, I
saw a posting on Facebook written by someone who had been helping out in
Rockaway Beach. They were delivering blankets and supplies, cleaning
out basements, doing all the heavy lifting that needed to be done. But I
read this: "People need emotional support. They are suffering."<br />
<br />
And I thought about the woman in Staten Island who lost both her young
sons, because a neighbor wouldn't let her into his home, he was too
afraid to open his door. I hope that she will give herself permission to
speak of her profound loss, when the time is right, and with a caring
group of people with her.<br />
<br />
We often give lip service to the idea of "it takes a village" but in
reality, we so rarely do come together to support each other. One of the
reasons 12 Step programs are so effective is because they have learned
the power of community. For most of history, family was our community,
but now families are spread all over the place. Often people worked in
organizations for their entire careers and felt a part of something.
That is the exception now, it's rare that anyone stays longer than a few
years with any job -- in fact, the "Millennials" <a href="http://www.forbes.com/sites/jeannemeister/2012/08/14/job-hopping-is-the-new-normal-for-millennials-three-ways-to-prevent-a-human-resource-nightmare/" target="_hplink">don't even expect</a> to stay past three years. <br />
In the aftermath of so much devastation and what has been a divisive
election -- and what will surely be many more hurricanes and tornadoes
and devastation -- maybe we can try to solve both the physical
challenges of dealing with floods and the emotional challenges of how to
create a real sense of community so that we truly can "get by with a
little help from our friends."Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-70079972033907155642012-11-08T15:58:00.001-05:002012-11-08T15:58:15.235-05:00The play is the thing...that is terrifying me. It really seems to be happening. It's called "Scrambled Eggs" - and it's about a woman's journey from childhood, dating, marriage, kid, career, hot flashes, you name it. <br />
<br />
So for anyone who's ever dreamt of getting your work out into the world and having a play or being on Huffington Post, or doing public speaking (which is what I am working on next) -- it's scary. IT REALLY IS.<br />
<br />
But I just have to take it a day at a time and have faith that it will be fine. <br />
<br />
Years ago, when I lived in Los Angeles, I had meetings with studio executives in huge, fancy offices on studio lots and they were effusive about my writing, "You're like a female Barry Levinson, or Woody..." And that terrified me. I didn't want that kind of pressure, so I bailed. I got married and moved back to NYC and had a baby and quietly did my writing and didn't try all that hard. I tried, but being a woman, and being out of LA makes it very difficult.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't change a thing, it is all perfect.<br />
<br />
I went through hell for a few years, it was one of the most intense and elevated periods of my life - divorce, death (my mother's) and now I can write about it all and watch the play get produced next spring and hopefully inspire other women (and men) to not give up on their dreams. It may not happen in the time you imagine it will, or the way that you imagine, but it can still happen.<br />
<br />
Last month, one of my Huff Post blogs landed on the mainpage of AOL. I even heard from my divorce attorney! I heard from people I haven't heard from in years. This is such an adventure and as scary as it feels sometimes, it is exciting and fun - kind of like a roller coaster. Oh, wait, I hate roller coasters. <br />
<br />
You can follow this journey, I will post updates and info along the way. Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-24345117165165641712012-11-04T12:51:00.000-05:002012-11-04T12:51:58.527-05:00Tracks of My Tears - Latest Huff Post<i>Cry baby... It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to... Big girls
don't cry... Tears of a clown... Don't cry for me Argentina.... Crying
over you...</i><br />
<br />
There are so many songs about crying and tears. Country western music
has broken hearts by the pickup truck-full. From the laid-flat classic,
"I've got tears in my ears from lying on my back in my bed while I cry
over you," to the GPS-specific, "Billy broke my heart at Walgreens and I
cried all the way to Sears," nothing beats country music for getting it
all out there.<br />
<br />
But I'm no country western gal. I'm a fairly tough New Yorker --
tears were never high on my profile. Not since my father would send me
to my room -- "I can't talk to you when you're crying. Come back when
you've stopped" -- and I learned to put a plug in it. My friend Karen
told me her mother admonished with the ever popular: "Stop crying or
I'll really give you something to cry about." The message was loud and
clear: no whimpering.<br />
<br />
Even PMS couldn't bring me to tears. I was suicidal, homicidal, many
-cidals, but I never cried. On rare occasions, like watching a sad
movie or listening to a sad song, they might leak down my cheeks, but
not for long. I'd convinced myself I'd never be a weepy person.<br />
<br />
If there was a crisis, it was Robin to the rescue, Robin in charge.
No tears -- no time, too much to do -- just the facts, decisions,
action.<br />
<br />
We all know people who fall apart if they lose their favorite pen --
those are the drama queens and kings, who seem to always be in tears
about something. Then there are others who are barely affected by the
death of a parent. Let's put these groups aside and focus on the rest of
us -- the majority of us who, while not emotionally dead, prefer to
keep emotions in check, particularly when it comes to sadness.<br />
<br />
I lost a lot a few years ago: my marriage, my job, my mother, my
daughter moved 3,000 miles away, I had to move, and then I lost my
beloved dog, Lola. I've written about it. I was sitting alone in my
apartment, minus everyone -- and I started to cry.<br />
<br />
Then I couldn't stop. The floodgates opened. And I didn't care.<br />
<br />
For many years, on those rare occasions when I cried, I'd get a
headache. But when the grief is so intense, the tears wash over and
seem to take out all the toxins and pain; at least that's my
non-scientific analysis. I felt lighter. No one loves the sound of a
baby crying, but once they're done crying, they look so peaceful, so
relieved -- or maybe that's the parents that are relieved, but it does
seem to be a part of the natural order of things.<br />
<br />
So often in caregiving/grief groups I've attended (where my crying
looked more like bawling), I've heard many people share, "I don't want
to cry" or "I'm afraid to cry." I've also heard, "I don't feel like
crying," which is perfectly appropriate, but my experience with crying
has led me to love it. When I was younger, if someone cried in my
presence I felt awkward. Now I sit with them and just try to be there
in the privilege of that moment.<br />
<br />
I spent years in therapy NOT crying, talking about antidepressants
and wanting whatever new one I'd heard of. "Don't you think I should
try Wellbutrin? What about Celexa? That sounds good." My therapist
would say, "Okay, if you want to. But I don't think you really need to."
Eventually I tried an antidepressant for a year or so, and it helped,
but I gained weight, and I couldn't feel much of anything, and I had no
sex drive, so I went off the medication and continued to search for a
newer, better drug.<br />
<br />
I don't think I ever used more than a few tissues in many, many years in my therapist's office.<br />
<br />
And then, my life fell apart and I used all the tissues. I sobbed
through entire deluges, while my lovely therapist, Mike, nodded and
smiled. "This is great, Robin, this is really good."<br />
<br />
What?<br />
<br />
"This is probably going to turn out to be one of the best periods of your life."<br />
<br />
Are you crazy? I'm drowning! I can't stop!<br />
<br />
Eventually the river flowed to a stream. Slowly the tears trickled to a stop.<br />
<br />
And in their place came:<br />
<br />
Relief.<br />
Gratitude.<br />
Aliveness.<br />
Joy.<br />
<br />
And most of all: empathy... compassion... for everyone in the world
who is suffering. Everyone. I want to go to the Congo and stop the
fighting and the rape. I want to go to the Middle East and get people
to talk about their anger and their sorrow. I want people to wail their
pain and share it and not worry about how they look. I want people to
listen to each other instead of screaming and fighting. <br />
In other cultures people weep together -- they believe in the power
of a good cry. Why aren't more of us angry about the state of this
country and the world? I don't know. I think maybe we're all trying
not to feel.<br />
<br />
<em>Tears on my pillow... tears in heaven. </em><br />
<em>
</em><em>Cry me a river. Let it wash me clean.</em>Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-40671532936829638532012-11-03T17:35:00.001-04:002012-11-03T17:35:42.776-04:00Hurricane Sandy <style>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Day 1: Sunday, October 29. 2012, SoHo, New York</i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There’s an edginess all over the city, as people prepare for
the storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had plenty of food
in the house, but I stopped by Met Foods in NoLita to pick up a few more things
and the line was so long, I decided to forget about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I live with a loftmate, Abigail, and
she has her car out, so I imagined that she would pick up whatever extras we
needed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She went
to Trader Joe’s and the line was so long it met the line for Whole Foods which
is a block away in Union Square.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But we have buckets with extra water and they’re in the
tub.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have a gas stove that can be lit
with a match.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have plenty of
flashlights and my best purchase was headlamps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think we’ll be fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Day 2: Monday, October 29, 2012</i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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A waiting game. We stayed home most of the day, put on some
music and exercised.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a
short walk around the neighborhood, the wind was picking up, but no rain most
of the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spoke to a few friends
on the phone, most of them downtown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know a few people in evacuation zones, but I couldn’t reach them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of the day I was on Facebook and
Twitter, reading and writing updates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A post I wrote called “Tracks of My Tears” went up on Huff Post, about the
healing power of tears. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Monday night we went upstairs to pay a call on my friend
Barbara, who is sitting shiva for her father who passed away last
Thursday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her mom is with her too,
but she is suffering from some dementia, so it’s a bit challenging. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We sat with them in the kitchen and
listened to the wind, which was extremely loud and scary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We couldn’t tell how much it was
raining, but I came downstairs and called my daughter in Brooklyn and as we
spoke, we got disconnected after what Zoe thought was lightening that lit up
the sky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She found out later it
was the Con Ed transformers blowing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By around eight pm we lost electricity, but somehow we still had our
internet connection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was able to
keep up on Twitter and Facebook and finally went to bed to read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seemed as if most of the wind had
died down from the intensity of a few hours before and we knew that the tide
had breached the sea wall – but we thought Con Ed had just turned off the
electricity as a precaution at that point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Day 3: Tuesday, October 30, 2012</i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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I woke up, turned on my iPhone and saw many Facebook
comments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I posted “I am going to
make a cup of coffee and try to find out the extent of the damage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“It’s bad,”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a friend in Brooklyn wrote. One friend from Spain mentioned
the explosions of the transformers at the Con Ed plant, and I got a few emails
from the previous night and then all internet connection disappeared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a brief window at 7 am that
was shut fifteen minutes later. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lucy is my 16 year-old beagle, and she can’t climb stairs
and it’s impossible to carry her up and down the four flights, so we put out
towels for her in the loft and within one minute, I slipped on a towel and fell
flat on my back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I landed on my
tailbone and my first thought was, “Oh, no, I’m going to be paralyzed and there
will be no hospital to take me to and no ambulance will come.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately, that only lasted about a
minute and a half, but it hurt and I’ve been living on Advil.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Our land line is part of our cable/internet so we had no way
to communicate and even the fantastic Crosby Street Hotel across the street,
which has a generator for their main floor, was struggling. They had no phone
lines and all their guests were being transferred to uptown hotels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We knew that uptown, most of Brooklyn,
Queens and the Bronx were fine – just parts of Manhattan south of 39<sup>th</sup>,
from river to river, most of Staten Island, large areas of New Jersey and 90
percent of Long Island were without power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t even reach my daughter to tell her we were okay.
The streets were empty (imagine the streets in SoHo without any shoppers?) and
very few cars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Abigail and I went
for a walk around the neighborhood and saw lots of tree branches down and one
small market had a huge line outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People were escorted around the store, one at a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most seemed to be waiting for
coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the afternoon our neighbors returned home from uptown –
they had friends who came and picked them up so they could get supplies, take
showers, get their phones charged and fortunately they had a landline that
worked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called Zoe to tell her
we were safe. She was smart – she chose to remain in Brooklyn for the storm
instead of coming into Manhattan. So did Abigail’s son, Nate, who lives in
Williamsburg, right near the water. He was fine too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Last night we cooked Brussels sprouts and heated macaroni
and cheese – and honestly, it was one of the rare times we sat down and ate a
meal together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re both usually
running somewhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I finished a novel (not memorable, but a good diversion) and
am now starting on a book about Hillary and Bill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t miss television and I enjoy listening to the radio,
but mostly I miss the Internet. It’s a relief to not have phone calls and
emails, quite honestly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t know how that’s going to feel later in the day and by day four, I may be
losing my mind, but I do know that at least forty people have lost lives in
this terrible storm and the city has suffered serious damage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love New York City – so whatever we
have to deal with, we’ll manage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s very odd to be in downtown Manhattan now, which feels a
bit like a ghost town right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Day 4:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thursday, November
1, 2012<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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We drove to Brooklyn yesterday to see our kids. We drove
across the Williamsburg Bridge, there wasn’t much traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We picked up Nate and went to eat in
Zoe’s neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was so good
to see them and also Zoe’s roommate, Ashley, and to eat a hot meal at David’s
Brisket in Bed Stuy – typical NY, Muslim restaurant in African American
neighborhood, serving Jewish food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When we drove back, we heard that starting today you can’t drive into
Manhattan over the bridge without at least three people in the car, so it’s
lucky we went yesterday.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Balthazar had a big barbecue in front of the restaurant to
cook all the meat they had that was going bad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only had three dollars in cash left and that bought me six
giant shrimp with cocktail sauce.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not bad! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last night, on Halloween, our neighbor, Louise, came over
and read our Tarot cards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
actually been lovely spending time with neighbors and reading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This morning I turned on my phone and found out I had cell
service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still no power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will check the news and see what is
happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, I’m going uptown
to take a shower and eat something healthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still have milk for my coffee, grateful for all the small
things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grateful to be alive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m at 88<sup>th</sup> and CPW, just took a shower, ate a
good meal and will head home to Lucy soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never had a better shower in my life!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Day 5, Friday, November 2, 2012</i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Today I feel very depressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could barely drag myself out of bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I listened to the radio last night and
heard about people who have lost everything, a mother whose children were swept
out of her arms on Staten Island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Family run businesses that are going to have to close, and it just feels
like more bad news on top of more bad news. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel like my interior life is matching the reality of my
exterior life: dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s hard to know that so many people are going on with
their lives and work in the rest of the country, and that those of us in lower
Manhattan, parts of Brooklyn and Queens, Long Island and so much of New Jersey
are suffering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am just
tired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m tired of not having a
good, hot meal, and I don’t even feel like cooking anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The high pitched sound we have been
hearing for days, coming from the freight elevator at Scholastic Books seems to
have finally stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
driving everyone crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe this will be the last day of no more lights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Honestly, I’m having a hard time
understanding why it’s taking Con Ed so long to get the power back on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am tired of listening to the sad stories
on the radio.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m tired of upbeat
messages of gratitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
sucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have no healthy food in
the loft and I feel angry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does
feel like East and West Berlin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess I need to have some faith.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve been praying and meditating this morning, but so far I
still feel pretty blue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel so
bad for those who have lost family members and homes and jobs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m grateful that my daughter is
safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m grateful to have a roof
over my head and that right now I am okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if I’ve learned anything in these past few years, it’s
okay to feel my feelings, whatever they are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And right now they are sadness, depression, a sense of
hopelessness and fear about the election.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I need a hug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">4:30 pm</i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m lying on the couch napping, when I hear a scream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first thought is that one of the
candles started a fire – but then I realize as I open my eyes that Abigail is
whooping it up because the lights came on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I take back every angry, awful thing I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This week has been a gift in so many
ways….time with neighbors and friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Quiet, no phone calls, emails, no Internet, urban camping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now all our efforts must go to helping
those who are still suffering, still have no power, who have lost their homes
and also to the election.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My wish
is that President Obama, who has done a great job dealing with this crisis – no
one can solve all the problems of a storm of this magnitude – will come out as
a strong leader and win the election. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think we all have to
take seriously the reality that we live in a new world and we can’t waste any
more time debating global warming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> We have to start getting prepared, even as we clean up from the disaster of this storm. </span></div>
Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-92191421926070479222012-10-25T10:49:00.000-04:002012-10-25T14:28:26.370-04:00Out of my head Huffington Post just put up my latest post and so far there has been very little reaction. I think I know why. It was written by my head. The others just poured out of me. This one was very much about explaining, trying to recapture the initial impulse of an earlier post. And then this morning I read this quote, from 2009, that I had posted, and it was a good reminder:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-style: italic;">"My teacher <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Trungpa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Rinpoche</span>
encouraged us to lead our lives as an experiment, a suggestion that has
been very important to me. When we approach life as an experiment we
are willing to approach it this way and that way because, either way, we
have nothing to lose.</span><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><span style="color: #674ea7; font-style: italic;">This immense flexibility is something I learned from watching <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Trungpa</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Rinpoche</span>. His enthusiasm enabled him to accomplish an amazing amount in his life. When some things didn't work out, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Rinpoche's</span> attitude was 'no big deal.' If it's time for something to flourish, it will; if it's not time, it won't. </span><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><br style="color: #674ea7;" /><span style="color: #674ea7; font-style: italic;">The
trick is not getting caught in hope and fear. We can put our whole
heart into whatever we do; but if we freeze our attitude for or against,
we're setting ourselves up for stress. Instead, we could just go
forward with curiosity, wondering where this experiment will lead."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Here is the post:</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Fire Away: A Husband, A House, A Mortgage, the Sequel </span></span></span><br />
<br />
A month ago I wrote a post called "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/robin-amos-kahn/a-husband-a-house-a-mortg_b_1822619.html" target="_hplink">A Husband, A House, A Mortgage, A Baby and A Lightbulb Moment</a>"
in which I talked about having had what I thought was the "American
Dream" and how in the end, it didn't feel like the "prize" I had
imagined it would be.<br />
<br />
My marriage ended in divorce. We sold our home. My ex and I are not
only not in love, we don't even communicate. Everything I had dreamt of
having essentially imploded, leaving me to question most of the values I
had held dear in the first half of my life.<br />
<br />
I received over 1,000 comments and attacks on this blog and after
awhile, I had to stop reading them. The blog was not meant to say my ex
husband was to blame any more than I was. It was not meant to say that
marriage, a home and a family are not worthy desires. It was simply to
say that for so many of us, life is not one size fits all. We all have
different paths. What works so well for so many families does not work
for everyone. And that is not the end of the world -- it is simply the
beginning of a new world.<br />
<br />
Recently I was in a workshop with several men who talked about their
families, their wives and their children. They were so proud and devoted
to them, and I felt a pang of envy. To anyone who thought that I was
saying that I don't believe in love -- or that I was critical of men -- I
apologize. If I didn't believe in love, I wouldn't want to live. Love
is, for me, the single most important part of my life. I am surrounded
by love and though I do not, at this time, have a partner or a spouse in
my life, that doesn't mean that there is no love.<br />
<br />
I love my daughter, deeply. I love my dog, Lucy, who has been with me
for over 12 years. We rescued her when she was 4 and even at 16, she's
hanging in there. I lost a beloved dog, Lola, a year and a half ago when
she was only 9. It still kills me to think of her. I love my friends
and my family. I love writing. I love babies. I love New York City. I
love this entire country and I also love many other countries. I love
ice cream. I love people who can put their beliefs front and center and
make a real difference in this world. I love spiritual teachers like
Pema Chodron -- she saved my life when everything felt like it was going
wrong. I love meditation. (I even feel not completely stupid when I
chant now.)<br />
<br />
I actually love my ex husband. I just don't want to live with him.
And it's pretty clear that he is relieved not to be living with me.<br />
<br />
When I was in my 20s and early 30s, I believe that walking down the
aisle was the equivalent of my "Rocky" moment, climbing up the steps of
the Philadelphia Museum of Art in my wedding gown and raising my hands
in triumph. I believed that my life was now complete.<br />
<br />
And then I saw how challenging it was to keep a marriage going when
two people wanted different things out of it. I wanted simply to have a
partner and an ally, to know someone had my back and wanted to spend
some time with me. He wanted to come together when he wanted to, and
that turned out to be, in the end, not at all.<br />
<br />
I was not right and he was not wrong. It simply was what it was.<br />
<br />
In losing that "Rocky" triumph, I found myself. I found that all the
external things I thought I wanted were less important than the internal
work I had to do. I found a core of strength I didn't know I had, to
help my parents die, to be a good friend to others. To try to know God,
or whatever that "higher consciousness" is.<br />
<br />
I do believe in love. I do believe in marriage and kids and a home
and all of those desires of human connection. I just believe that our
lives can be complete and joyous without all the external prizes we
think we must have.<br />
<br />
Despite a difficult divorce and some very painful losses, the past
three years have been some of the best years of my life. Were they
better than the early years of my daughter's life, when we were a loving
family and we were all together? They were different; not better, not
worse.<br />
<br />
It's an amazing feeling to fall in love and plan a wedding and embark
on a life with the person you believe is your soul mate. But sometimes
the person we chose at 24 or 29 or 37 is not the person we can live with
at 40 or 50 or 60. Should we be miserable for the rest of our lives
because it didn't last? Or should we move on and accept that life has
other plans for us?<br />
<br />
A year ago, I started studying swing dancing because I hoped that
dancing would lift my spirits after a horrible divorce. It did.
Recently, one of my favorite dance partners told me that I had to go
into more challenging classes in order to improve. I think that's true
now about love, too. I think it's time to come out of hiding and put my
heart on the line again. I'm scared to step on my partner's feet in an
advanced intermediate dance class. And I'm also scared to get my heart
broken again. But I know that if I don't take chances in life, I might
as well just die right now and forget about the remaining days, months
or years. Where would be the joy in that?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/robin-amos-kahn/a-husband-a-house-a-mortg_b_1822619.html" target="_hplink">After that blog post</a>
got so many critical comments, I talked to a few successful writers I
know about how they handled criticism and personal attacks. One of them,
Michael Eigen, a therapist and author of at least twenty books, said to
me, "If you go out into the world, you will be attacked by others. If
you stay in your cave, you will be attacked by yourself."<br />
<br />
I'm ready. I feel that Pat Benatar has taken over my soul and is
singing, "'C'mon and hit me with your best shot... fire away."<br />
<br />
Which is also a good song to dance to.<br />
<div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-47170842952265528012012-10-19T13:04:00.001-04:002012-10-19T13:05:41.508-04:00The Only Way Out is Through<i>"The only way out is through" is often mentioned at Friends In Deed. I remember the first time I heard it, I hated it. But I think it's really true. Latest Huff Post:</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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The Only Way Out is
Through</div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first time I heard that I thought, “Damn!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to go through this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to go around it, over it, under
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to sleep through it,
wake me up when it’s over, fast forward me to happy days are here again.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It” is a dark night of the soul, which by the way is a
misnomer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It generally is dark
“nights”—although I have heard of people who have a spiritual awakening in one
night, most notably Eckhart Tolle, who was suddenly enlightened and began
immediately writing bestselling books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But<span style="color: #0070c0;"> f</span>or most of us, “a dark night” is
a longer period, often a year, maybe even a few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you are simultaneously an
agnostic, an atheist and a believer, as I considered myself for most of my
life, it is a challenging path out of what feels like hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(“If you’re going through hell, keep
going.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Winston Churchill.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You can, if you want, try to avoid the pain – drinking,
drugs, sleeping, lying, stealing, cheating, shopping, sleeping around, eating
gallons of ice cream, bags of potato chips, staring at the television, gambling
. . . you can do any or all of those things but sooner or later the grief you are
avoiding will show up in a meltdown, a pile of debt, another divorce, an
illness, an accident, or any number of other possibilities.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My dark night was years of caregiving and then a tsunami of
loss. My life became a blank canvas that had to be re-painted at a stage in my
life when I was not expecting it. I feel like I should have made a t-shirt for
that first year so that if anyone asked me how I was they could just read the
t-shirt: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">~ separatedmotherdieddaughtermoved3000milesawaynojobnohome2dogs ~</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When my dark nights began, people recommended books. First
was Pema Chodron’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">When Things Fall
Apart:</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I used to have a sign pinned up on my wall that read: Only
to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that
which is indestructible be found in us...It was all about letting go of
everything.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then came <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Dark
Nights of the Soul</i> by Thomas Moore: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Many people think that the point of life is to solve their
problems and be happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
happiness is usually a fleeting sensation, and you never get rid of
problems.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your purpose in life may
be to become more who you are and more engaged with the people and the life
around you, to really live your life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That may sound obvious, yet many people spend their time avoiding
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are afraid to let it flow
through them, and so their vitality gets channeled into ambitions, addictions,
and preoccupations that don’t give them anything worth having.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">A
dark night, may appear, paradoxically, as a way to return to living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It pares life down to its essentials
and helps you get a new start.”</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I definitely needed a new start, so then I read…<span style="color: blue;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .1pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: .1pt; mso-outline-level: 1; mso-para-margin-bottom: .01gd; mso-para-margin-left: 0in; mso-para-margin-right: 0in; mso-para-margin-top: .01gd;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;">Getting Naked Again: Dating, Romance, Sex, and Love When You've Been
Divorced, Widowed, Dumped, or Distracted</span></i><span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;"> by Judith Sills</span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I managed that pretty quickly, thanks
to the "divorce diet," it was much easier than I imagined it would
be. But it didn’t change anything; I was still deep into my dark nights. <span style="font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 10.0pt; mso-font-kerning: 18.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Crazy Time</i> by
Abigail Trafford was helpful: “Breaking up a marriage may be as common as Main
Street nowadays, but when <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you</i> finally
do it, the psychological experience seems as uncharted as the dark side of the moon.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That made sense to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And – if you were the complacent
partner in the marriage and you suddenly stand up for yourself, all hell breaks
loose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could see that happened
in my divorce. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In fact, my divorce was such a nightmare, that I had to turn
to the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Psalms</i>: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Even in the midst of great pain, Lord,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I praise you for that which is.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I will not refuse this grief</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
or close myself to this anguish.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let shallow men pray for ease:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘Comfort us; shield us from sorrow.’</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I pray for whatever you send me,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and I ask to receive it as your gift.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You have put a joy in my heart</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
greater than all the world’s riches.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lie down trusting the darkness, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
for I know that even now you are here.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>[Psalm
4, Stephen Mitchell translation]</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Somehow that brought me comfort. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Recently, I read this very powerful quote by August
Gold:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“To enter the
conversation with Life we only have to change one key word: We have to stop
asking, ‘Why is this happening to me?' and start asking, 'Why is this happening
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">for </i>me?’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we can do this, we’re free.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And this:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“Life, as the biblical tradition makes clear, is both loss and renewal,
death and resurrection, chaos and healing at the same time; life seems to be a
collision of opposites.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Richard
Rohr, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Falling Upwards.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the last twenty or so years, I have watched many
friends walk through hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
didn’t understand how truly difficult their lives were at the time because I
had no reference point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
understood it intellectually, but not deeply, not emotionally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have watched friends deal with cancer
and illnesses I’ve never even heard of, deaths of beloved spouses and children,
long term caregiving, loss of homes, businesses, jobs, and deeply painful
divorces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I understand. Now I understand that no one is immune,
nor should they be. I wouldn’t trade any of my dark nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Only to the extent that we expose
ourselves to annihilation <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">can that which
is indestructible be found in us</i>.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The only way out <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i>
through – which it is kind of like a birth, or re-birth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a path to a more meaningful life,
though it might not feel that way at the time. It is the path to a second half
of life that is deeper and about tuning out some of the noise of the outside
world and listening to that inner voice in the quiet of a dark night.<span style="color: #0070c0;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: #0070c0;">.</span></div>
Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4625031513047709215.post-85162601365082896632012-10-18T14:23:00.000-04:002012-10-18T14:23:49.243-04:00Out of the Depths<i>This is my latest Huff Post, which came out of a workshop I did last week on public speaking. I told the story and everyone liked it so much, I decided to write it up.</i><br />
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Out of the Depths</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was the lowest point of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My 23 year marriage was over. We’d been
talking about it for a long time, but finally he was ready.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wasn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had
just lost my job. </div>
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<br /></div>
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My daughter, who was 21, decided that she wanted to move to
San Francisco.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three thousand
miles away. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was thankful that my mother was still alive, having
survived two hospice stays she seemed indestructible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then she died suddenly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never felt worse, or more terrified, or more alone. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One afternoon my cell phone rang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an area code I didn’t recognize and normally I would
have let it go to voice mail, but I picked it up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a director, Matt Penn, calling to tell me that he
wanted to do a staged reading of a play I had written with Gary Richards, at
the Berkshire Playwrights Lab in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. And that the
reading would be happening in ten days. If I hadn't been so out of it, I would
have panicked, a big, ugly hyperventilating panic. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The play was to be performed on a Wednesday night and I took
the train up on the Sunday before. I waited at the station and watched as
everyone got picked up or drove away and soon I was all by myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to call the intern but got her
voice mail instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stood there
thinking, what the hell am I doing? It seemed just like my life—I thought I
knew where I was going and why, only to find myself stranded and alone.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Finally the intern called, apologetic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had picked up the actors, but had
forgotten about me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She came back and we drove to a little meeting house in the
woods outside of Great Barrington and I met Matt and the rest of the
actors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone was incredibly
friendly and kind. Gary couldn’t come until the night of the reading because he
was teaching. I’d seen readings of this play, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Scrambled Eggs</i> (the sub-title is, in my mind is: “The Wisdom of
Insecurity”).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a comedy about
an everywoman – Karen – who is overwhelmed by life and she is loosely based on
me and parts of all my friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’s married to Dave, who is not so much based on my ex, but a
fictionalized (funnier) version of him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We see Karen at various stages of her life – struggling to figure out
how to do it all – and how to maintain her equilibrium.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We were all invited to Matt’s beautiful home for dinner that
night and I got to know the cast members.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At one point, Matt was barbecuing and he asked me to join him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and two of the other directors of
the Lab were talking about the play and how much they loved it, but thought
that the ending needed some work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Didn’t they know that I was essentially out of my mind and
couldn’t concentrate enough to write a grocery list, let alone a new ending?? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tried not to look like I was having a nervous breakdown
and when we got back to the inn, I took my cell phone out to the parking lot,
the only place I could get a signal, and I called Gary.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Gary, they want a new ending!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ah, don’t worry about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just write something funny…you can do it.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“GARY, I don’t know what the f*#k to write!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t
hear you…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lost the signal. Amy Van Nostrand, who was playing Karen,
saw me as I re-entered the inn and offered to go over the script.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
YES. Yes!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
went up to my room and read almost the entire play aloud and we bonded when we
discovered we were both getting divorced. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We talked about the ending and we had some good ideas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next day I raced to type it up as
the actors went into rehearsal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
ran over at the lunch break and showed Matt what I had. He laughed and said,
“close, but not quite.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
NOT QUITE???</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I kept writing and running over and finally by the end of
the day he was satisfied.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I
had to race back to Manhattan for a tech rehearsal of a solo show I was
performing at the Midtown International Theater Festival. Nothing<span style="color: #00b0f0;"> </span>to do that entire summer <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">except</i> that one week I had the reading and three performances of a
solo show. In one week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I
could barely get out of bed and brush my teeth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I went back to Great Barrington Wednesday afternoon in time
for a run-through and then Gary arrived right before the show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At every other reading of my work, I’d
generally felt the need to be sedated, but this time I felt pretty calm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t know a soul in the audience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe no one would show up?</div>
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The Mahaiwe is an incredibly beautiful theater that opened
in 1905 and was newly renovated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Gary and I sat up in the balcony and watched as the theater filled
up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t know this at the
time, but Matt had done a local NPR interview about the play and said, “this
play is headed to New York.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So
the theater was packed, there were at least 450 people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We could watch people laughing
hysterically,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>slapping their knees
and elbowing the person next to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I started to laugh and I laughed for ninety minutes and watched the
actors bring the play to life and the audience eat it up. </div>
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At the end of the reading, I felt something I had forgotten
was possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt happy. I
could breathe… for the first time in months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could feel the power of laughter, to bring you out of
despair and to make you feel alive again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I also realized that I if I<span style="color: #00b0f0;"> </span>truly
had a purpose, making people laugh is not such a bad purpose to have in life.</div>
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Three and a half years later…life is so much better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Divorce didn’t kill me, it made me
stronger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amy is stronger
too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And she will be starring in a
production of the play next April, at the Beckett Theater in New York City,
just as Matt predicted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Robin Amos Kahnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12285622375765910126noreply@blogger.com4