As a spiritual seeker, I welcome these qualities of gratitude, reverence, rectification, and transmutation that arise from the prayer/meditation of Ho’oponopono cleansing: “I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.” I’m working with this technique, which has come recently into mass consciousness. It reminds me of the Lord’s Prayer, another tool of reverence, gratitude, rectification, and transmutation. Or the Om Tryambakam, which has a similar sensibility. Or the Amidah in the Shabbat liturgy. Good stuff.
In my next lifetime, when I come back, I will ski more and worry less.
I will begin every dinner with dessert, and it will be dark chocolate,
or something gooey
I will choose dresses for color and not for whether or not they make
me look slim. I am thinking yellow,
purple, and butterfly prints
I will start using sun-block when I am 12, the same age
when I will begin practicing
because it makes me feel so peaceful and good.
In my next lifetime, when I come back, I will choose
a comfortably upper-middle-class family to host my wandering
soul. I’ve seen that great wealth imposes anxiety
and demands of its own. Too little to work for
ruins people. So does poverty, my old scourge.
The lack of money–for graduate school, for good doctors,
for guitar lessons, for the occasional porterhouse steak and soul-ravishing
trip to Paris–
is one of the great evils that besets humanity.
In my next lifetime, and I hope the Earth isn’t ruined before
I make it back, I will play outside more, which can mean lying
on my back beneath an oak tree and reading something
or a cheesy romance novel. I will spend more time staring into the sky
and no time at all on a therapist’s couch.
I will say
more often and do the dishes only when they’re piled up to the ceiling.
I will turn off the TV but go to every sci-fi movie
that opens. I will choose more friends who understand
that I’m originally from
the planet Xetron
and that this beautiful blue and green orb
is just a way station on my peregrinations. They will laugh more with me
than at me and they will understand the value of
I have only a few of those kind in this life.
I miss them all the time.
In my next lifetime, since
I’m not enlightened
and I will have to return to complete the balance
I will say “I love you” to the people I love:
on the hour, every hour. Even when I hate them.
And especially when they hate me.
In my next lifetime I will be
the luminous me
I always wanted to be now, and somehow fell short of.
It wasn’t for the absence of an open heart or effort.
Rather, I tried too hard, and let gravity weigh
me down. So in my next life, I will let my
open heart lift, and shine me to everyone I meet.
Today is the day: IMMORTAL is being released. It’s out on shelves in bookstores and available for shipping from Amazon and B&N and wherever else books are sold. Actually, a friend bought it a few weeks ago at a sly and impatient B&N downtown. Which is all good.
I am happy to have it out, after the years of writing, revising, and slogging through the publishing process, which moves at the speed of continental drift.
I hope readers enjoy the book, that they take pleasure and fun and perhaps a piquant idea from it. Let me know.
On Gratitude: Trikonasana & the Dyson vacuum cleaner
Arctic winds are breezing across Manhattan, so I decided not to go out to the gym. Instead I rolled out my yoga mat and went into my practice. Within a few moments, as my muscles warmed, stretched and opened, I was asking myself, “Why don’t I do this every day?”
It’s such a pleasure to feel myself grounding deeply into my body, to sense the fabric whole. This, even when my hip flexors complain and my hamstrings ache. It’s a sweet ache. Another ten minutes and the ache merges into my breath, and it’s all one thing: me, the practice, the pain, the warmth, tension flexing into motion, into resonance. After forty-five minutes and a delicious shavasana, corpse pose, I’m another Traci. A better one.
And I love my Dyson vacuum cleaner. I love what it represents: individual inventiveness. And it works good, too.
Hello, Dear Readers: