May Newsletter

The meditation retreat, Pearl Jam, and softening the edges of my thinking

“Look at the sky,”

I told Tessa,

“it’s gorgeous because it’s not perfect.”

“It is perfect,”

Tessa said.

She was right; it was perfect because it was exactly how it was in that moment.

Tessa is one of my closest friends. We were driving to Richmond, westbound on the Interstate 580, after a long, trafficked 5 freeway along the arid fields carpeted by signs of dissent with Governor Newsom’s water policies, cattle ranches, and few patches of green crop kept alive by the water from the Sacramento-San Joaquin Delta.

When we noticed the striking beauty of the sky, we had reached the Altamont Pass, near Livermore, in the Diablo Range. We had driven for a little over three hours, talked the deepest talk, not really listened to music, and stopped for gas and salted caramel coffee with hazelnut creamer (don’t judge, it’s a thing for me, and it reminds me of the happy times I spent in Long Beach, 20 or so years ago).

It was around 6pm, the temperature had started to drop, and the sky was a striking blend of dark clouds, patches of bright blue, silver, and white; the rays of sun shone down hitting the long grass by the side of the freeway just in the right spot to make it look like limber silver strings that blew along with the strong winds.

We were headed to a meditation retreat with Anam Thubten at the Dharmata Foundation, in Point Richmond. We had left my house around noon, and planned on stopping for food at a Whole Foods in Berkley before heading to the hotel and get some rest before the first day of retreat.

How perfect my dinner of cold grilled salmon, sweet potatoes, and cherry pie in the hotel room was, and how perfect the sky was on Friday, May 24th around 6pm, near Livermore, made me think of a conversation she and I had had with two friends, the week before:

Nothing is wrong, when we go in the world as our authentic self.

This has been my mantra in the month of May, a month full of social commitments, events, and new people to meet: how freeing is it to realize that we don’t have to try hard at things, people, and life? How freeing is it to realize that our only task is to show up as our authentic self? How reassuring can it be, to trust every moment as it comes? Cold salmon, broken heart, solitude and struggle, health or illness, the sun shining after days of rain, a friend when you need it, a loving partner, the perfect cup of coffee, a life-saving medical treatment, or the loss of a loved one to cancer.

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On May 22nd, Ben and I went to see Pearl Jam at the Kia Forum.

Unexpectedly, Eddie dedicated the song Wreckage to Ben, me, and Catherine.

I was moved to tears.

I was moved to tears not because our names were said out loud in a big arena (to tell you the truth, I had not even heard mine that night, only later when a friend sent me the Youtube video). I was moved to tears for Ben, when I witnessed how much he is loved, sought after, respected.

I looked at him, equally shaken and filled with surprise and gratitude, and saw a man that has truly become his authentic self. I saw a man who bravely shows up, generously gives, and never expects anything in return.

“In the cause of happiness”, his Twitter bio read.

With Allison & Roxy, with Tessa, Richmond Marina

When I was in Richmond, I finally met in person my new friend Allison. We had connected after I had read her beautiful novel, The People I Keep, and then the friendship evolved and became a ‘real’ one made of trust, confidence, advice, humor, mutual inspiration.

I mention this because Allison is another example of showing up in the world as her authentic self; that’s why she is loved and respected, that’s why her writing stands out and people trust it, love it, see themselves in it.

May has been a long enough month to hold space for a baby shower followed by a memorial, for chaperoning Catherine’s first field trip and for community service at her school. May has also been about professional excitement (my mixes are now at L.A. Grocery & Café, that opens on June 2nd), hard work (The Italian Cookie was featured in a Flamingo Estate Farm Box), intense writing (I have reached the halfway point in my new book), and about new adventures (the meditation retreat, of course, but also my first in-person workout class in years).

The month of May has been about radical change, about stepping back into the world and stepping away from the internet, it’s been about observing Catherine tiptoeing into a new phase of childhood with both fear and admiration, wonder and worry.

I mentioned Allison and her novel about the people we keep in our lives because I started to wonder whether we attract people in accordance with how we show up in the world at any given time.

Maybe we meet the perfect people for the moment we are in,

just like meeting the strikingly perfect sky at 6pm near Livermore.

I single out Tessa, Allison, Ben, Catherine, Eddie, Anam Thubten, and Laura (who gave me a pen to take notes for this newsletter during the retreat), because each one of them, during month of May, has taught me something, has moved me, shared energy, love, intimacy, authenticity, silence, understanding, acknowledgment.

While in Richmond, I couldn’t quite identify the nature of the town — put it in a box, give it a label: is it wealthy or underserved? Is it liberal or conservative? Who lives here? Is it safe or unsafe? I walked the downtown area, into few of the cute shops, talked to some locals, and explored the surroundings, but it somewhat bothered me that I couldn’t label it, almost as if by stamping it with a one-word description would certify my experience.

Today I see that the month of May has been entirely about softening the sharp edges of my thinking.

I owe this opening to Tessa, as well as to the meditation retreat, through which I was able to not only consider the possibility of a different way of living, unboxed and unlabeled, but to actually want it.

When I am softer I am happier.

When I am softer I am more hopeful, more loving, more understanding, more useful to the causes I believe in.

When I am softer, I am my authentic self and I can’t go wrong with it.

An antique store in Richmond, Point Richmond, Notes to this newsletter,

On Sunday afternoon, I stood in the doorway of the temple, during a short break between a meditation and a teaching: I saw colors that were so vivid to make me wonder whether I had ever seen such bright shades of green before. The perfect temperature of the air felt so real brushing against my cheeks that I wondered whether I had ever felt touched before. I looked at the playground across the street, at the blue sky, at the few friends pacing barefoot on the sidewalk, and back at the sky, this time slightly lower, where it seemed to meet the trees; I had no judgment, and no opinion, I was just there, aware, myself.

This is just the beginning of my journey into softness and into authentic openness, but I know I am onto something here.

May has been a good month.

ps. Thank you to my “cooking class ladies” for a beautiful class on Wednesday, to all of you still showing up on Monday nights, and to all of you still buying my cookie mixes (I am about to run a big sale before I take a break for the summer, so stay tuned).

Latest cooking class (05/29/24) making mille feuille with pastry cream and fresh berries