love

operation secret valentine

New in town? Welcome. You can subscribe to my RSS feed, or my not-so-daily email - which is the best way to go, really. xoxo Danielle

We're not from the same tribe, are we?
Feline. Bear.
Fire. Earth.
Arrow. Tree.

Finally, I revel in that.
We are choice.
Precise and free in the choosing.
Not slotted, or arranged, or karmic.
Not mated, or introduced.
Not even necessary.

Rather: Essential, my Love.

Rather: Chosen, my Love.

With select scars and stories,
full of rise and honey and dreams.

Chosen.

And that, my Love,
is everything and more.

CLICK HERE TO PARTAKE IN THE LOVE-NESS:

 

burning questions with seth godin: faith, lizards, and your art

Seth Godin has one of the most highly respected and trafficked blogs on the world wide web; the most-viewed presentations on TED; the most charitable social and information systems in action, the best-selling series of books on marketing, culture, and idea-generation.

His new book, Linchpin: Are You Indispensable? goes on shelves and ships TODAY! It's a whole new kind of Seth fabulous that speaks to the heart (and primal encoding) of creativity in all pursuits. It is beautiful.

Seth's views on collaboration, endurance, and what it means to be an artist give me a deep sense of belonging and optimism. His definition of "art" contains three elements:

1. Art is made by a human being.
2. Art is created to have an impact, to change someone else.
3. Art is a gift. You can sell the souvenir, the canvas, the recording... but the idea itself is free, and the generosity is a critical part of making art.

Art is what we're doing when we do our best work.

Ladies and gentleman, it is a true honour to bring you, The Integrity Artist, The Amplifier of other people's goodness, and one of my biggest intellectual crushes, Mr. Seth Godin.

BURNING QUESTIONS WITH SETH GODIN

1. What do you know to be true, unquestionably beyond doubt, certain with every cell of your being, completely, passionately, righteously certain?

Somewhere, someone is going to have a spectacular day tomorrow, the best day they ever had. Maybe even more than one person. Maybe you.

2. How do we rise above the grip of resistance-addicted lizard brain into unleashed, energized, full tilt mojo and artistic moxy?

The lizard is the prehistoric brain stem, the amygdala, the part of our brain responsible for anger, revenge, sex and safety. It's what a chicken has, all that a chicken has.

The lizard is mistaken.

The lizard successfully believed, for a really long time, that safety was good. Avoid saber-tooth tigers. Duck your head. Don't raise your hand. That = survival.

Now, of course, that equals burger-flipping and Wal-Mart greeting. Safety is a recipe for food stamps.

What the lizard ought to be doing is pushing you to do art, pushing you to stand out, pushing you to do work that matters and to make a difference.

So, you rise above by seducing and quieting the lizard, and then, when it's snoozing, do exactly the opposite of what it wants you to do.

3. What was the dumbest thing that you used to believe in?

Deserved.

That some people got what they deserved. That someone deserved to be taught a lesson at my expense. That bad luck hurts people who deserve better.

What's true: Stuff happens. We dance with it. The better and happier you dance, the better you do. And every minute you spend teaching people a lesson is a minute wasted forever.

4. I think we crave originality and individuation as much as we crave belonging and the beautiful symmetry of being in tribe. How do we steer clear of, as you call it in Linchpin, the "Faustian bargains in which we trade our genius and artistry for stability"? How do we access our own originality? (This, by the way, could be the best question I've ever asked anyone. Ever.)

Join a tribe of artists. Lead a tribe of people intent on making a difference.

1984 is a scary book because belonging to a tribe of cogs is the most frightening thing of all. Better to be Neo or Trinity than to live in the Matrix, I think.

5. Dante and "all who entered", had to abandon hope at the gates of the inferno. I have my own theory on that (I'm not a fan of h-o-p-e.) Is hope a requirement for Linchpins and change agents? Or trust?

Mostly faith.

Faith in your art. Faith in your ability to matter. Faith in the future and opportunities that will present themselves. The reality is you need low overhead and an ability to get through the Dip and the reality is you must put in the hours and push yourself harder than you can imagine. Then the faith pays off.

6. What question are you currently living?

Whatcha talking about Willis?

oh

how about, "How can I leverage this opportunity to spread an idea that people really need to hear... and not waste my chance."

7. What’s your super hero name? (You have one. To discover it, stand with hands on your hips, chest up, and eyes to the sky. It’ll come to you. FYI, Mine is Agent Now, which in French translates to L’Agent Maintenent. Adorable n'est pas?)

The Amplifier.

Indeed.

. . . . . . .

FIND SETH

SethGodin.com
The Squidoo Linchpin Interviews
Linhpin: Are You Indispensable?
TED Lectures

 

the best list ever, by Danielle: vol. 1

The best of anything and everything. Random fantastic stuff that left an impression on my frontal lobe and softened heart. Do your own list. Do it here if you fancy, we've got the time and space. "The Best List Ever, by [insert your name]: Vol. 1. It'll make you simmer with sweet memories and proof of excellence. Here we go. This is gonna feel goood.

MY BEST LIST EVER. 100% adored. In no particular order.

1. The Missing Piece Meets The Big O, by Shel Silverstien. The most elegant and charming description of human relationships. Heartbreaking, really. It's my favourite wedding gift to give.
2. Wim Wenders', Wings of Desire and Far Away So Close. Made me want to fall in love, fly, move to Berlin, french-kiss Lou Reed, and talk to my angels.




3. Leonard Cohen at the Palo Solari in Santa Fe. Circa '95. Under the stars. A hot night. Angelic backup singers. Oozing the most Zen-Let's-All-Make-Love-Right-Now vibe humanly possible. Religious.
4. Dip big strawberries in sour-cream, and then dip it into brown sugar. Divine. Great picnic treat.
5. Pangea Organics Japanese Matcha Tea with Acai & Goji Berry Facial Mask. Incredible product from one of the most eco-progressive beauty companies, ever.
6. WordPress. There's a reason why Google bought it.
7. The Arlington Institute's FutureEdition. Best aggregation of news in global trends and outliers.
8. Pecha Kucha Night speaking events. 20 slides. 20 seconds each to talk about whatever inspires you (or me). Brilliant format.
9. Honey Beeswax Candles. I'm fanatical about them. They clean the air, are thus merciful on your lungs, and last forever. I order mine from an equally fanatical craftsman in a small town in Ontario.
10. Tweezermans.
11. Krishnamurti. Total Freedom.
12. Allan Watts. Beyond Theology.
13. Sir Ken Robinson's TED Talk. How schools kill creativity. Hilarious and profound.
14. Soul centering sessions with Navjit Kandola.
15. Project jamming with Dyana Valentine.
16. The lavender milk chocolate sauce on Belgian waffles at Medina Cafe, Vancouver.
17. Jim Morrison's An American Prayer.
18. Maya Angelou speaking on stage in San Francisco. Proud poetic power personified.
19. Cheryl Sorg's text art. Got me one this year.
20. Patricia Larsen's abstract paintings. Got me one last year.
21. That time with S. in the cabin, doing that thing S. does so well.
22. Silk Concept duvets. Lux sleepies, no more cold feet, eco-kind.
23. Little Miss Sunshine.





24. Eminence Organics Yam & Pumpkin Enzyme Peel. Indispensable for ye ol' skin glow. Use it twice a week.
25. Paper Mate Medium Point blue pens. I've tried fancy fountain pens, mechanical pencils that made me look designy-cool. But it's the good n' cheapies that do the trick.
26. Your Sex is on Fire, Kings of Leon
27. Red Hot Chili Pepper's Stadium Arcadium. If you don't love this double CD, I'm not sure that we can be friends.
28. Rilke! "I want to unfold, for where I am folded, there I am a lie."
29. Rumi...Rumi...my love. "You were born with wings. Why prefer to crawl through life?"
30. Mary Oliver, sistah. "What will you do with your one wild and precious life?"
31. This advice from a mentor when it all fell apart: Know your rights.
32. Anthropolgie
33. Bella Cucina's Artichoke Lemon Pesto. It even made Oprah's list. (Tho' my list is so much juicer, don't you agree?)
34. Beauty, by John O' Donohue. Anything by John O'Donohue, really.
35. Hallelujah, as sung by kd lang, whom I think is one of the most masterful song interpreters ever. This performance makes me want to pull out all the stops in my life. And then be incredibly modest about it.




36. Pet insurance. Just get it.
37. Ten Thousand Waves. Santa Fe, NM. Heaven, hot tubs, and Indian oil in the hills. Heav-en.
38. The best moment with my kid, ever. We're eating chocolate cones outside an ice cream parlor at dusk. Me: "So, pookie, what's it like being alive?" The Kid (without missing a beat): "Oh mama! It's AAA-MAZ-ing! If I were a telephone, I'd be ringin' all the time!"

... to be continued ...

 

best packaging of 2009

Did your headphones come in a sweet case? See a bottle of tea in another country that stood off the shelves?

My vote: One Condoms. It's about time.

 

mothering.com: new column for modern mamas

I've got a new column on Mothering.com, called: Very Big Love: For Seekers, Mamas, and Mavens

This week's article: Mindful Speech and Supreme Kid-Respect

It's such an honour to be involved in anything that Peggy O'Mara does - she an icon of conscious birth and natural families. And get this - Mothering.com has the #1 community forum on the entire world wide web. That's alotta mamas.

 

in praise of women: magnificent, spacious, fiery witnesses

{if you're reading this via email or RSS, click through the title - there is a playlist embedded.}

Michelle at Wicked Whimsy inspired me to go a bit deeper with a comment that I made in a recent interview:

I often hear “women are our own worst enemies” in terms of our culture. I’m tired of that argument. I think everyone is their own worst enemy, and I don’t think it’s about something women have specifically against each other.

The uh, broadness, of my experience with the women throughout my life leaves me humble, optimistic, proud, and grateful. I've been screwed over by females in business and love, and I've planted a few landmines myself. But those enemy-making times were the results of bumbling, struggling humanness, not ovaries or hormones. We could argue the bio-instincts to procreate, protect and feed that spurs some nasty behavior from chicks, or about Queen Bees and Wanna-Bees -- all very real social dynamics, but I'm here to give witness to the force of pure Goddess positivity that is the hallmark of my life. Word.

MY LIVED EXPERIENCE IS THAT WOMEN SIMPLY ADORE WOMEN:

: Women shake their cosmic pom poms. Go sister go! How many times has a girlfriend told you, that you got it going on, before your head out the door or the dressing room? That even though your new haircut makes you look like a mushroom, your ass looks grrreat. They'll be looking at your ass all night, not your hair. Really, you're hot. Just keep your hat on and don't sit down. Go get 'em.

: A woman makes a cup of her heart. She carries your concerns and fears with you, for you. When your eyes fill up with teary news, so do hers. It happens with women you've known for years, with women you just met at the grocery store, in the ladies room, in a prayer circle. She carries your story with her. She mixes honey with it and re-tells it to you and helps you notice how great you're doing, in spite of everything, because of everything.

: Women bear their fangs for you. Like when Tammy threatened to butt her cigarette out between buddy's eyebrows if he didn't leave us alone. He walked, we rocked.

: Women feed each other - literally and figuratively. Think of all the meetings or retreats you've been to. Who brings the cocoa and sparkling water? Who remembers that you're lactose intolerant? Who asks you if you have everything you need?

: A woman will sacrifice without calling it a sacrifice. Leila was three months pregnant. I was moving cross-country (again.) Road trip anyone? We U-hauled our way from Seattle to Santa Fe with Leila coughing her cookies at every truck stop. I made it to my desert home and she flew back to the coast. And named her little girl Phoebe Danielle.

: Women hold on. It's like Audrey Hepburn said, "Never throw anyone out." It's like my soul sister Donna says, "We're all bozos on the same bus so just go with it." Meep meep.

: Women bypass history. A good sister listens to you bitch about the same jerk for years, she helps you pack when you're smart enough to leave, and she stands by you when you repeat the same lesson with the next emotionally lame lover. She loves you enough to let you do it your way - again, and again, like it was the first time. No drama is too big for big women.

: A woman howls to help you remember what matters the most. She loves you enough to intervene. She will drag you out of your comfort zone and into the moonlight to say "What the fuck are you doing? You may have temporarily forgotten who you are, but I haven't and I'm hear to remind you." Like when Karen told me over green tea, "D, maybe it's all about the divine feminine for you, maybe that's the question to live. It's time to move on from playing small." Arooooo!

: Women touch you. Michelle and I went to visit a friend in the hospital recovering from surgery. Miche brought lavender lotion and massaged Friend's feet while she lay achy and groggy. I'll never forget that stunning moment of loving service.

: Women push. Push babies out, push babies into the world. Baby ideas. Baby thought forms. Baby parts of you. "But Danielle, it's just a thought-form that you 'can't take more,'" Navjit told me. "Don't constrict. Expand." Boundaries, pushed.

: Women know how to navigate the layers because they love the layers. Folds of skin, the sediments of time, the stories that build into the present. Like how Candis not only remembers what I love but knows why I love it. She is reverent, keen, actively interested in the why of me - and that is what it means to be witnessed by a woman. Word.

. . . . . . . .

"The serpent was the best thing to ever happen to Eve." Get this and other pro-cool chick note cards for your favourite sisters.

 

celebrate yer roots

"Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to.”
- John Ed Pierce

This is my grandfather, Leonard Alphonse Laporte. (Note the small ‘p’ in LaPorte - in high school I decided a capital P was more elegant.) Anyway, this is Len. Like most French Canadian grand-daughters, I called him Pepe (Pip-ay). Dig the smoke, eh? Camel lights.

Len sold the family farm and bought a small bike repair shop and built it into a popular sporting goods store in Windsor, Ontario, just ‘cross the Detroit border. So for Christmas I got soccer balls and ice skates. I wanted the hard cover edition of the Little House on The Prairie and some oil pastels. Every family has a black sheep.

Baaaaah.

As a modern-minded, progressive chick, I’ve spent a vast amount of energy re-defining myself. And that has usually meant looking forward, getting far away from backwards and roots and origins. Far away from Hockey Night in Canada, and Chrysler, and trailer camping. I spent most of my adult life living in the US, working in communications, aspiring to relax in four-star hotels.

AFFINITY AND APPRECIATION ARE MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE
I'm not embarassed of where I came from, I just never felt like it was the right home for my spirit. I never felt deeply connected to it. And if there’s a lack of connection, there is often a lack of appreciation. And while connection isn’t something that can be forced, appreciation is something that can actually be fostered. By celebrating our origins - even if they have little resemblance to our ideals - we call forth our wholeness, a greater love.

Even if you intensely do not want to turn into your mother, there’s something beautiful about her that also lives in you. Whether it’s country clubs or country music that makes you want to hurl, there’s something about growing up in a radically different scene that’s added to your street smarts, your grace, your grit. Finding the charm factor where we’ve long felt sour is the stuff of wisdom...and relief.

By plucking out the strands of delight, those fibers of nourishment from even the most ill-fitting situations, we can weave ourselves a stronger fabric of identity. A heavy material that makes us durable, or something softened by surrendered love. Warmer. More colourful.

When I see this photo of my pip, I feel thankful to have come from a family of hard workers who know how to party. I’m happy for the trailer park where I sneaked my first smoke, for Sunday masses that showed me the glory of faith, and for growing up in an industry town that taught me about big hair and bling. (You can take the girl out of the small town, but she’ll always wanna have big hair.)

What do you love about your origins?

 

monday morning sex talk

I’ve been observing a quickening of sorts. The people around me are waking up. Breakthroughs are happening, Commitments are deepening. Maybe it’s because I’ve meant some stellar individuals on my Fire Starter tour this summer, but something sparkly and hot is in the air. And it’s pretty sexy. But I happen to find consciousness super sexy. And the more I feel my own essence rising, the sexier life seems.

But I've noticed that even shiny, sexy, wide-awake people don’t talk that much about sex. The general conversation starts and stops with whether you’re getting it or not. “It’s good.” “We need to make more time for it.” “Haven’t gotten around to it.”

If sex conversation is relegated to the cultural fringe, it’s likely reflecting where it lies on our personal list of priorities. And you don’t have to have a partner to have a sex life, BTW. Just ask Mama Gena who makes it, uh, pointedly clear that the clitoris has 8000 nerve endings of it’s very own.

You can be sure that your sex life is a microcosm of the macrosm of your entire life. Deep but quiet. Repressed. Rigorous. Loving but slightly aggressive. Playful and sweet. Dutiful. Whatever is going down in the sack is going ‘round in your life as a greater theme. So maybe we should talk about it more. At least to ourselves.

SEXY SHAKE UP
For the sake of shaking up mindsets, what if you gave your sexual well being the same weighty importance that we tend to give the other day-to-day stuff?:

What if we treated our sex lives with the same importance as our diet? Imagine counting orgasms like you counted calories. What if there was the same urgency to get funky with your lover or yourself as there was to get to yoga or spinning class?

What if we put as much effort into cultivating our sexuality as we did our intellect? Imagine a D-I-Y erotica degree based on the awareness of energy and breath and physiology and bliss. Where would you begin to look for knowledge? What would it take to earn and A++?

What if we talked about our sex lives like we talked about, say, our health, or our satisfaction with work? I’m not suggesting that you should chat up your hot night with Larry and Lucy at the water cooler. Because, yeah, sex is sacred, absolutely, positively, precious and typically private. BUT...what if, with the friend you trusted most, you let the conversation go deeper into the sensual part of your life. And you explored questions like, How do you feel in bed? What does womanly or manly really mean to you? Top, bottom, bunny, adventurer, priestess, kink-meister or athlete, what’s next in terms of being more fully you?

Don't tell just anyone. But dare to tell yourself. The answer may have you grinning for days.

. . . . . . .

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I've got a few spaces left for my Oakland CA Group Fire Starter, August 22. Find out more.

 

love sucks, but you can’t beat it

WARNING: if you're a hopeless romantic, searching for Prince Charming or Miss Marvelous, you better leave now. Because I'm about steamroll any Disney-drenched happily-ever-after scenarios. I'm starting my engine. Go now while your ideals are still in tact. You can get yourself some Danielle Steel on Kindle.

Okay...I warned you.

"What's with everyone going on about the 'hard work' of marriage?" I used to think. "If it's so hard it musn't be true love. True love has a meant-to-be-ness about it that's gotta make everything easier. Like, if it's THAT hard, then it just ain't right. Right?" Uh huh.

My relationship with my own self is complicated, how could I expect it to be simple with another? But I was single at the time. My panties matched my bras, my principles matched my big hair, and I my astronomical phone bills matched my knack for getting involved with men who lived on the other side of the country. {The long distance fed my romantic longings. Longing. Always lonnnging.}

I've done some homework since then. Home. Work.

THE SHITTY FACTS MY RELATIONSHIP RESEARCH HAS SURFACED:

: I don't know a single couple with an easy, let alone blissful, marriage. Okay. ONE couple: Donna and Brad. But they met when they were in their late forties. Brad's wife had passed away. Donna was just out of a long termer. Within months of declaring their total and utter devotion, Brad discovered that he had cancer. They fought it with every alternative therapy known, and every dime and ounce of faith they had. They're still going strong. It really is the stuff of love stories.

But back to the rest of us normal, non-Buddhist schmucks who got hitched earlier in life...

: Most of my married friends have seriously considered leaving their mates more than once. {Note to the hubby of my friend: I'm not talking about you. Really, you're the total exception dude.}

: Within just the first year of marriage, at least half of my married friends and acquaintances thought to themselves, "What the hell have I done?"

: Of all the longtime wed folks I've surveyed, each reported long, hellish periods in their relationship where they were merely enduring each other to get by.

Bubbles burst. Dreams steamrolled. Imperfections and cruelties of life glaringly clear. Crap facts noted. Love stinks.

And love keeps going in spite of it all.

THE DELIGHTFUL, SWEET AND RADIANT FACTS MY RELATIONSHIP RESEARCH HAS SURFACED:

: I have friends whose confessed infidelities cycloned through their lives. And they sorted through the wreckage to build something better than before. "The affair was the best thing that ever happened to us."

: Couples who rallied to beat addictions, who sweat and toiled to over come them like farmers fight blight - tirelessly, without rest, because everything depends on victory.

: One of my wisest friends figures that it took about thirty years for him and his wife to simply be nice to each other. Now there is a euphoria in their familiarity. A grace has settled in. He says that sometimes it's magical.

So if you're out there thinking that the smoochy hot couple has got it easy, ha! Think again. If you're down to a teaspoon of hope, envying the love stories on the other side of the fence, remember that while they were smiling for the cameras, Joanne Woodward was putting up with Paul Newman's boozing in the early years. Fridah Kahlo's beloved Diego chased skirts all through Mexico and New York. Cleopatra waited a long time for her man.

Love and doubt aren't exclusive. In fact, they can be the most fantastic dance partners. Give and take. Trust and turn.

Bliss requires sweat.

. . . . . . . .

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