The Final Day of Surfing

all photos courtesy of Julia Aron

Ben and Me getting ready for our final day of surfing.

Some of my fellow surf students....Mike, Kim, Lily, Holly and Ben

Ricardo's in the middle - one of the surf instructors

Transport

Warming up

Goin' in

Rodriguo - the BEST instructor ever!

all photos courtesy of Julia Aron

 

Siesta!

  

Teamwork....... 

Playin' hooky on Herradura Beach

Crocodile Tour

Our guide feeding "Osama Bin Laden"

Cuttin' Class

Editors Note:  Sorry there are no pix today....I'm having problems with the internet connection...I'll post some when I can!

It’s day #2 of classes and I’ve decided to blow off surfing this afternoon. I totally expected to wake up today completely unable to lift my arms, after yesterday’s first-ever, surfing experience. However, it’s my neck that will keep me from the waves today.


I really want to go and I hate the idea of giving up though there’s a small part of me, to be honest, that’s a little intimidated by the idea of going out there again today. If fear were the only factor, I’d surely push through it, however, hurting myself further on just day 2 would ruin the entire trip, so after hemming and hawing out loud for way too long, it’s official – no surfing today.

This gives us the freedom to do some exploring after Spanish and photography class. I think we both need a bit of an adventure outside of the school. It’s definitely more of a camp environment at this place. Most people buy food, cook in the communal kitchen and all hang around chatting. While I’m no anti-social, I’m not crazy about being constantly surrounded by twenty-somethings, chatting on Facebook and discussing their drunken escapades from the previous night. A short break from this seems like a great idea.

After class, we walk into town to see about catching an afternoon tour to someplace close. Unfortunately, all the tours start early in the morning. The only remaining choices are Zip Line tours where you attach to a harness and zip around in the trees, somewhere in the Rain Forest, I suppose. Juila’s done it and I’ve had enough excitement from surfing. Frustrated, we’re both feeling a little trapped – like we’re all dressed up with no place to go. We contemplate our next move as we walk down the main road in Jaco to the south, going further than we did on our first day.

Walking by a cute little shop, I decide to pop in while Julia’s taking some pictures outside. The guy who runs the store is American and instinct prompts me to ask him about any cool places to go for the rest of the day.

Joey turns out to be a gem! He’s full of suggestions, most of which are hard to retain, but we settle on going to Herradura Beach, which is about a 15 minute cab ride from Jaco to the south. We read about some beautiful white-sand beaches here, however, Joey informs us the sand is shipped in and the better choice is to walk to the far end of the beach where the jungle meets the beach. It’s very secluded and there’s the possibility of shade if we want it – a good thing since the sun is out in full force, once again.

So, off we go, singing Joey’s praises! It feels good to be doing something independent and adventurous.

Herradura Beach is quite beautiful – dark sand and lush trees from the jungle surrounding the shore. There are also a few beach bar/restaurants along the road, perfect for a cold beer and a snack after some sun.

It’s a perfect day. The water is cool and refreshing; there’s no schedule. And, besides the couple under the trees to our right, we’re the only ones on the beach. It’s the first time since we arrived that I feel totally relaxed.

After a few hours of swimming and sunning, we pack up and head back to where we first landed, with that snack and a beer in mind. Our meals, thus far, have been underwhelming and overpriced, so we’re a bit skeptical about where to eat, asking to see a menu at one spot, The Pelican Restaurant. It’s pricey, as we figured - $10 for an appetizer and $15 for an entrée. We’re hungry, so we decide to share an appetizer and then get something when we go back to Jaco.

As we sit down, the waiter brings over the “lunch” menu – now we’re talkin’!! The prices are much better and I’m excited for some shrimp tacos while Julia’s excited for the salad bar that’s included. The food doesn’t disappoint (finally!) and we head back to Jaco, this time, opting for the bus.

Books & Boards

 photo courtesy of www.1costaricalink.com

Today is our first full day of school. Julia (aka “Hoolia”) has photography while I have Spanish class, so we both wake up at 8am. Class starts at 10am, so we decide to have some breakfast in town. The main road into town is about a ten minute walk from the school and we quickly realize there is no such thing as “morning sun” – ya know the kind that’s not so strong until it hits about noon? Nope. Even at 8:30, it is roasting hot!
Breakfast is good, though more expensive than we anticipated - $10 per person. We’re both surprised at how expensive things are here since we heard prior to our departure, that Costa Rica is relatively cheap.

Back at school, I arrive to class armed with my Spanish/English dictionary, a notebook and a pen. I’m still very much prepared to be “outed” as the Spanish moron I believe myself to really be.  However, I’m determined not to have to switch to the earlier class. In this class, there are four of us – 1 guy and 3 girls. Laura, our teacher (pronounced “LAOra”) is a small woman in her thirties with a muscular build, a raspy voice that squeaks from time to time, and a serious demeanor.

She begins class speaking in Spanish and I’m grateful for that month in Mexico in September because I’m able to follow along. She spends the first few minutes of the class explaining that, Kim, our fellow student, will catch us up on what we missed from the week before. The School of the World offers packages anywhere from a week-long stay to six months. I guess it’s hard to run a Spanish class if there’s a constant influx of new students, though Kim doesn’t look too thrilled to be appointed our tutor. As LAOra leaves the room, she makes a face, “I don’t know what I can teach you guys.” Her Australian accent seems to emphasize her confusion at being chosen to lead when clearly she’s not that far ahead of us. In the end, we just copy down her notes and chat amongst ourselves – in English.

LAOra comes back and we begin to go over the basics, mostly conversational stuff, like, “What’s your name? How old are you? Where are you from?” It’s stuff I’ve already learned, but the specifics of verb usage is certainly helpful. At one point, LAOra says to me, “Oh. I remember your test. You did everything in Italiano.” Surprised, I reply, “Uh..no. I don’t think that was me. I don’t even know Italian that well.” LAOra waves her finger at me. “NO! It was you.” I decide right then that I’m not too fond of LAOra – but she teaches all the Spanish classes, so I’m stuck with her. She goes on to mention that if I don’t know a certain amount of stuff, I should be in Spanish 1. I can’t resist adding with a tinge of defense in my voice, “Y’all placed me here, so....." I trail off deciding it's best not to piss off the teacher.

Ole! School has begun!!

At the end of class, we’re given homework which consists of a skit that the four of us have to make up incorporating all of the conversational stuff we learned today. The theme of the skit is a party and all LAOra keeps saying to us is, “SOOprize me. SOOprize me!” I join my fellow classmates who are just as unenthused as I am, in the next room to brainstorm ideas for the skit. In the end, we create a silly little scene where two of us announce that we are lesbians, one of us claims to be bisexual, and Mike, the only guy in the bunch, gets to exclaim in a pervy voice, “Me gusto Las Lesbianas!” It all reads like an X-rated Dick, Jane and Spot book, but class is over and I’m anxious to relax a little before surfing at 4pm.

The problem I have already is that the classes are stretched out over the entire course of the day giving us no time to do other things like explore places close to Jaco. This is a major drawback for me as I like to see other places beyond my immediate surroundings. Julia shares my irritation and we’re already planning to blow some classes off later in the week to take a day trip somewhere.

After making egg salad and a medley of fruit for lunch, it’s time to surf. Juila has yoga at 7pm so she decides to catch a ride to the beach with me and my fellow surfing students. We gather in the front area near the pool and everyone is given a surfboard. Mine is the largest, which is best for learning, but it’s huge – like seven or eight feet huge! We all have to carry our boards to the van and hand them up to one of the instructors so he can fasten them to the roof. Since mine is biggest, I’m first. Trying to maneuver my board through the front gate without hitting anyone is like getting on the 4 or 5 train at rush hour with bags of groceries, a suitcase and a stroller. I almost hit the instructor when I hoist my board up to him and suddenly, I’m extremely grateful that Juila’s coming with because I’m starting to feel really out of place and awkward.

We pile into the van – literally pile in. I’m so nervous there won’t be enough room for Juila because at this point, I want to cling to her like a child does to her mom on the first day of kindergarten, for security. Thankfully, we manage to fit into the van and with our three instructors in front, we’re off to the beach!

The van is old, with sagging seats and a sliding door that can only be opened from the outside.  The muffler sounds like it’s seen better days, but I suppose it’s perfect for transport to and from the beach. Inside, there are about ten of us, plus the three instructors. The conversation is lively as most of these people have been at the school for a few weeks and they are clearly comfortable with one another. The problem is that the majority of them seem really young to me – in fact, most of the people I’ve met are in their twenties, so it’s no surprise when the conversation turns to text messaging and places to go where they offer all-you-can-drink specials.

Juila’s sitting across from me and she almost loses it when someone mentions Beer Pong. Mike, who’s 41, practically leaps out of his seat and raises his arms with excitement. “BEER PONG!! YES! Woohoo!” The look on Julia’s face is enough to make me pee in my pants as we’re both not big fans of the game best suited for college people. Frankly, I’m surprised at Mike whom I thought would be riding at more of mine and Julia’s speed, but I guess you never know.


photo courtesy of www.1costaricalink.com

At the beach, we pile out of the van, retrieve our boards and split into groups. I’m with Mike and Ben, a young, fair-skinned Canadian guy with a terrible sunburn on his legs. Our instructor, Rodriguo is originally from Argentina, but has lived in Costa Rica for the past seven years. His body is muscular and compact which I would imagine makes for good surfing.

We begin with our boards on the sand, practicing our positions. Each of us gets to lie facedown on the board, doing a simulated paddle with our hands in the sand and eventually popping up to our feet into full-on surf position. I’m worried about the “pop-up” as I’m not sure I have the upper body strength required to get up so quickly. The upright position is kind of like a lunge, with your hips square and your arms out. The main difference is that your knees fold inward, shifting the majority of your weight to your hips and abdominals. It’s awkward, for sure, but Rodriguo thinks we’re ready to get in the water.

To say that I’m freaking out would be an understatement. My surfboard is huge; I’m the only girl in my group; and I’m not so sure that popping up on my board three times ashore has left me fully equipped to surf. I remind myself to put my trust in Rodriguo even though he’s not the warmest guy – he’s still the expert here.

The waves are not very large, which is a relief to me. Apparently, it’s not to the others, but I don’t care. I’d surf in the mini-pool back at the school if I could right now. We all take our boards into the water and follow Rodriguo, who doesn’t have a board, out to sea. Fighting the waves with my humungous board, I’m sure, is giving Julia quite a show as I try to avoid getting hit in the face as the breaking waves smash the nose of the board back towards me as I do my best to keep up with the rest of the guys.

Once past the point where the waves break, it’s a bit easier to maneuver and it feels more like working a giant kickboard. We line up next to one another as per Rodriguo’s instruction. I’m first in line and it looks like I’ll be the first to surf. (Gasp!) He tells me to get up on my board – facedown, like we practiced. While I’m lying there, he gets behind me and the board, adjusting my “leash” – the cord attached to the back of the surfboard that fastens to your ankle with a Velcro collar. It’s important for the leash to be on the outside of your ankle and more importantly, it should be attached to the leg that shifts to the back when you’re up on the board. Otherwise, you're likely to get all tangled up each time you get off the board in the water.  The point of the leash is obvious. It gets pretty rough out there and I’m certainly not interested in losing my board.

With Rodriguo and the oncoming waves behind me, I feel completely out of control. I’m pretty sure this adds to my nerves which by now, are off the charts. My heart is beating and the anticipation feels similar to being on a rollercoaster, in the back row, inching upwards, unsure of when you’ll finally reach the top and that awful and exhilarating moment when you’re zooming downward, cheeks flapping, neck pressing into your shoulders and your stomach in your throat.

As I wait for his cue, I’m trying to remember all the things he told us which is futile because my heart and mind are racing so fast that I almost don’t hear him tell me to “Start paddling” in his thick Argentinean accent. I do as I’m told, and wait for his next command. “Get UP!” he yells from behind me. And that’s exactly what I do – for about 3 seconds. After that, I go down – hard. My first thought as my body crashes into the water and my neck turns in a way that’s definitely not natural is, “Shit. A person can really break their neck doing this.” My second thought is, “But, I didn’t break my neck! I was doing it! I was surfing!”

It’s all happening so fast – the thoughts, the pain, the realization that I have to pull my board back to me with the leash and finally, the harsh reality that I have to get back out there and do it all over again. And again and again – for about an hour and a half. At one point, I completely lose my steam. My hair is everywhere, my nose running like a five year-old and my eyes are burning so badly from the saltwater. As I reach the shore after yet another attempt at staying up on the board, I think about calling it quits. But, I’m the youngest of three – we never give up first.

In the end, I got up several times which is way more than I ever expected of myself. Towards the end of the lesson, I found myself more determined than ever to actually stay up, but the waves were dying out and I was exhausted. So much so, that when we finish, I can barely walk or talk. The experience, the adrenaline and exertion is overwhelming. Plus, the beach is super rocky, so walking with a 7+ foot board on my head, barefoot makes it even more difficult to drag my already, tired body back to the van.

On shore, Julia is waiting – all smiles – and excited for my triumph. “Girl, you did great!” she breathes. I could barely speak, so I just nod and give her a look that says, “HOLY SHIT that was hard!”

We get back in the van and head back to school. I am done – literally and figuratively – for the day. Julia still has yoga, which before surfing, I said I’d probably join. But, now, sitting in the old, sticky van, all I want to do is have an ice cold beer!

Surf's Up!!

photo courtesy of schooloftheworld.org

Hello from Costa Rica!


"Hoolia" and I are hitting the books, or shall I say the waves, at the School of the World where we will spend the next six days - "Hoolia" in yoga and photography and me in Spanish and surfing.

We arrived yesterday late in the day, after not sleeping the night before. "Hoolia" worked until 3am and I decided to stay awake in solidarity and meet her at work. We had a smooth trip from LaGuardia to Houston and then onto San Jose, Costa Rica. Once we arrived, we waited to see if we could meet up with my friend, Mark, who was departing Costa Rica for New York, but unfortunately, we missed him.

The school is located in Playa Jaco, to the south of San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica. Our taxi driver, Christian, was very nice and had great insights into the best places to visit during our stay. He explained that the city of San Jose has a much higher elevation compared to Jaco which explained why it felt like the string winding around a yo-yo as we drove down and away from San Jose.

We arrived at the school around 4pm, local time. At one point during the trip, I struggled to keep my eyes open as the lack of sleep began to catch up. As we approached Jaco, though, my curiosity took over and I was twisting and turning in my seat trying to take in everything I could about the area. There wasn't much to see and as we pulled up to the school, we had to ask through the gate if this was The School of the World. A fresh-faced, blonde confirmed that we were, indeed, in the right place. Finally! We were at our destination.

Hannah, the Director of the school, met us upon arrival. Just inside the gate, there's a small seating area, with a hammock and a few swing-chairs. (Some of you may remember "Joolia's" obsession with hammocks from Mexico - so....yeah, she was psyched!) There's also a small pool to the right of the entrance which resembles more of a large bathtub. The girl who greeted us was taking some sun, by the pool.

We followed Hannah on a quick tour. The grounds are compact with large walls and locked gates all around, so I immediately felt safe. As we walked past the main area and through a large door, we passed two classrooms with glass-paned sliding doors on each side. A communal kitchen sits just past the classrooms with a several seating areas and high-counter where you can sit and check email while your fellow students prepare their meals. A large winding, stone staircase leads up to the office with a long walkway overlooking the garden area. The vibe seemed simple and airy in spite of the fact that it was really hot!

After the tour, she showed us to our room which, putting it mildly, was rustic. A couple of beds, one single and one queen, a few shelves, and a small, lone refrigerator next to the kitchen sink. The bathroom was clean, but not very interesting. I spotted a dead cockroach, feet up, on the floor near the window. The princess in me was less than thrilled with the accommodations, but I'd already prepared myself for this in advance. I was just happy there was A/C and it was clean.

Hannah gave us the schedule for the week and "Hoolia" read it aloud as I unpacked. "Girl, you're lucky you're in Spanish 2, because Spanish 1 starts at 8am," she said, keeping her eyes on the schedule as she read. "I don't have yoga until 7pm!" "Oh, that's good," I said, thinking that, as bartenders, we're not really the early-morning kind. "NO! That sucks," she practically whined. "I've got to wait the whole day for it."

I sensed that "Hoolia" shared my trepidation about being on a schedule, though I didn't express it as I was trying to remain open-minded. The truth was that all I could think about was surfing - and how nervous I was about trying it. And after hearing the schedule, I began to have that sneaking feeling of regret and worry. What if I hate it here and "Joolia" loves it? What if there's so much activity that I need a vacation from my vacation? What if hurt myself really badly while surfing? What the hell was I thinking? Damn, I miss Tulum. Sharing my thoughts seemed like a bad choice, so I suggested we head into town to see what Jaco had to offer.

We took the short walk from the school to the main road where the town sits. It had a nice, easy vibe at first glance and we decided to have some food at Taco Bar, a spot that Christian recommended. The menu sounded great, but unfortunately, the food failed to deliver. I'm no spice whore, but frankly, my food was really bland. "Hoolia", who loves her hot sauce, was equally disappointed and even more dissatisfied than me. We finished up, joking about finding more food somewhere else and began exploring the main road and all of its shops.

The first shop we ran into, Guacamole was fitting because I was bummed that Taco Bar didn't even serve guacamole! The clothes were really cool and I felt compelled to buy many things, however, I chose to control myself until I got a better sense of the exchange rate.

We continued on, milling in and out of shops filled with beautiful woodwork, footwear and cute little trinkets. Anywhere I travel, it's always those first few shops I like the most when I'm seeing things for the first time and I'm inspired by all of the handiwork. By the time we reached the end of the main road and made our way back on the other side, I was beginning to lose interest. It's a shame that after seeing the same stuff in all the shops that they lost some of their appeal, or maybe it was the fact that the shops didn't have A/C and my lack of sleep was slowing me down.

I suggested we take a detour to the beach which runs parallel to the main road. We're on the Pacific side, so the sand is black, which gives the water the same dark hue and a bit of an ominous feeling. The thing I liked about this beach at first glance was its vastness. It was high tide, so the walk from the shore to the water was quite long. The landscape of mountains and low clouds surrounding the beach only added to the expanse, and although, I prefer blue water and white sand, this beach was quite beautiful.

After the beach, we finished exploring the main road and made our way over to the supermarket to get some things for the next day. I suggested eggs and remembered from Mexico, that they are not refrigerated; however, I still couldn't find them. I dreaded asking for them because, apparently, when you ask if someone has eggs in Spanish - "tienes huevos?" - you're asking them if they have balls! I, of course, learned this after my last trip to Mexico, which explained the strange looks I got each time I asked. I couldn't remember the proper way to ask, so I just walked up to a man in the Supermarket and said, "Huevos? Dondes es?" He answered in Spanish of course, and I didn't understand, but eventually, we found the eggs.

After food shopping, we headed back to the school and decided we'd boil our eggs in the evening to save time. There were a few other students in the kitchen when we arrived and as tired as we both were, we engaged in the usual, "where are you from? How long are you staying?" formalities. One girl, Kim from Australia was in her second week at the school and she mentioned that the Spanish teacher gave her a really hard time about her limited knowledge of Spanish, eventually relegating her to the Level 1 class. This information didn't sit well with me because I was pretty surprised to have been placed in Spanish 2 in the first place. Great. More things to worry about - tomorrow, I'll be sent packing to the 8am class. Damn schoool.

By the time the eggs were cooked, we were too. So, we crawled into bed at 8pm and called it a night. After all, we had a big day ahead of us.

Finding the I in You

In preparation for the NY Writers Workshop Non-Fiction Pitch Conference this weekend, I got to thinking about self-definition. Over this weekend, I’m going to have to pitch my memoir to various editors in the publishing world. As much as I’d like to sell my book, the very idea of selling myself – out loud – to deemed experts, is a little daunting.

For me, there’s a pattern here of defining myself from the outside-in. Sure, other people’s opinions are important, especially when they’re making decisions related to my future. But, are their opinions the only ones that matter? As I got to thinking more about this, I realized that I’ve been falling prey to this not-so-helpful pattern for most of my life. Well, I’m done. I’m ready to break those old patterns of self-definition. Thank you very much Mars in retrograde. Yep. I believe I’m onto something here.


With Pluto in my 12th, I’m getting a lot of help with this. Pluto’s been shining the light on all things dark and scary. The 12th house represents all things in the background – it’s our psychic closet if you will. Insert Pluto into the mix and it’s a regular, “Wow. I haven’t thought about this in years fest.” Pluto’s energy is emotional, so there’s a lot of instinct involved in any Pluto transit. I’ve experienced and heard from others that with Pluto around, it sometimes feels like crawling around in the dark feeling your way through.

Mars takes things to yet another level. In Leo since October, Mars has been stirring up all things identity-related. Leo’s ruler, the Sun is the quintessential representation of ego and self. Think of the Sun and its presence. Now, think about a Leo and his/her presence. Leo’s know who they are – they are true individuals, never asking for permission to be who they are. Mars is energy – warrior energy. Put the two together and you’ve got a whole lot of people out there trying to assert themselves individually, without apology.

But the Universe is smart. Retrogrades get a bad rap, but I’m here to tell you, they are necessary. This particular transit needs a retrograde or else you’d have people going like gangbusters without any attention to circumstance or more importantly, consequence. I’m all for individuation. In fact, I think the world could use more and more of it. However, it’s not something to be taken lightly. The process of the Mars transit through Leo will take six months in total, ending in early June. Until then, it might be helpful to take a look at the process and how to use it your advantage.

As I said earlier, the energy of Mars in Leo centers around individualization. For some, it’s natural and the Mars transit has accelerated their already unique position in the world. For most, however, it’s a bit more tricky. Mars is power and its entry into Leo may have left many of you feeling like you woke up one morning and wow! - who is this person staring back at me in the mirror. But, you ignore it and go about your day, your week, your life. However, something’s different. Slowly, you notice that certain things are no longer working for you in the same way they’ve been for as long as you can remember. Maybe you’re tired of listening to your friends go on and on about themselves, never bothering to ask about your life. Perhaps you’re sick of pretending that your boss’ blatant disrespect doesn’t bother you. Whatever your story is, if you’re “mad as hell and not going to take it anymore”, you’re feeling Mars alright.

Just when things start to get interesting, say, peak, Mars goes retrograde. The energy is like riding the brakes on a fast-moving car. You’re still moving forward, but the speed is noticeably diminished. As annoying as it is, it is essential! Retrogrades are meant for review and revision. So, before you clock your boss in the face, you need to turn inward and look a little deeper, perhaps identifying the reason why you let your boss speak to you like that in the first place. Mars can makes us feel an unusually strong sense of urgency, but I am here to tell you, once Mars goes direct, you will have an opportunity to take steps to make the changes you so desperately need. The difference however, is that if you use the retrograde wisely and do your work, the outcome is more likely to be a positive one without drama or rash decisions.

We’ve got about a month left of the retrograde, so if you haven’t tuned into this energy yet, I suggest you start now. A few simple ways to do so would be to begin by looking to see if there’s been a common theme in your life since October related to all things you. Remember Mars represents war, so if you’ve had your share of fallouts with friends or loved ones, go deeper and see what’s underneath that. Are you longing to assert yourself in situations where the power play is not balanced? Are you anxious to make headway in your career and finally be recognized for your unique talents? Once you identify the root of the problem, you can start working on it.

Mars in Leo most certainly amps up the pride factor and at times it can exacerbate the victim mentality a bit leaving people to feel like everyone is against them and it’s better to just lie in the corner, lick our wounds like a proud lion. Use this retrograde to get past the surface stuff, tossing aside ego for the sake of ego and utilizing the ego to fuel who you are at your deepest core. THAT is the ego. Dictionary.com defines ego as: the “I” or self of any person; a person as thinking, feeling, and willing, and distinguishing itself from the selves of others and from objects of its thought.

Is the “I” in you out front and center? Are you living the “I” in you out loud or is she/he hiding in the closet?

If you’ve done your homework during the retrograde, you will get to try the new you (or “I”) on for size when Mars returns to it’s forward to direction on March 10th. Remember that once the proverbial foot comes off the brake and things go full steam ahead, it’s important to walk with consciousness and humility remembering the work you’ve done during the retrograde. Change can be liberating, but it can also be difficult especially if it involves identity. Take care for those around you as they will inevitably have to adjust to this new you. By taking care, I mean, of them and you. After all, what’s the point of finding the “I” if you don’t nurture and take care of it?

We’ve got a powerful New Moon this weekend – a great time to plant the seeds within yourself, creating powerful intention to change. Think BIG!

If you'd like to know more about your astrology chart, book a private reading with me here.

Spag - Veg - Mar

Let me tell you a little bit about my friend, Deborah Kagan. We met almost twenty years ago at NYU Film School - me with my big, Westchester hair and silver flats and she with her funky, sassy self. We became instant friends and in spite of the fact there's 3,000 miles between us, Deb continues to be a integral part of my life.

It is with great pride and pleasure that I share her with you. She's so talented that if I were to list all of her talents, I'd be here all day! One of her greatest talents, however, is connecting to people whether it's through her amazing Feng Shui practice or her writing - which I gotta say, blows me away every time. Check out her site and this entry in particular

Hip, Shui, Flow

I think you'll really enjoy it.