Metaphors in Nature.

Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens

The dahlias at this time of year are pruned down to mere skeletons. This plot of land resembles a cemetery, containing the secrets and sighs that are only released when Spring unveils herself. While others pass by convinced that there's nothing of value to see, I stand still here, enamored by this sight. I imagine what the same part of land will look like in June, bursting with magenta and coral dahlias. 

Seasons are the best metaphors for life. They teach us to recognize the beauty and lessons in the present moment, knowing that it too, will eventually shift and change. Without sadness, the experience of constant happiness would feel flat. Without emptiness, it's hard to appreciate fullness. Without a stark winter, spring wouldn't appear as vibrant and magical. For me, this dahlia garden in the dead of winter represents hope and potential and things that soon will be. Like you. Like me.

Hidden Hands.

I have been more attune and aware of how the right people are coming into my life at the right time. I sip on my almond latte in a corner table at Elmwood cafe, nose buried deep in The Diary of Anaïs Nin when a man approaches me. He looks at me, my furiously scribbled notes in the side margins, and sits down. "It's rare to see someone not on their phone or laptop here," he says. "I needed to know what you were reading. You're so engrossed in that book." We share stories, dreams, career paths. It turns out he leads creative writing courses. He invites me to join. Later that week, a friend who I'd lost contact with I surprisingly see again. We chat and reconnect, and the energy we exchange activates a part of my creativity in the form of poetry that I had forgotten about. Words flow freely again.

Some may call it serendipity. I am reminded of Bill Moyers' interview with Joseph Campbell about this subject. He asks, "Do you ever have the sense of being helped by hidden hands?"

I love Campbell's response:

“All the time. It is miraculous. I even have a superstition that has grown on me as a result of invisible hands coming all the time- namely, that if you do follow your bliss you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living. When you can see that, you begin to meet people who are in your field of bliss, and they open doors to you. I say, follow your bliss and don’t be afraid, and doors will open where you didn’t know they were going to be.”

— Joseph Campbell, The Power of Myth

My Flashlight.

My journal entry from a year ago, October 27, 2015:

Lately I've felt the need to experience life more- to go on more adventures, step out in the world, create stuff. I need more things to write about, more perspective. I need to fill the well. Right now I'm scraping the bottom, looking for water. It borders on pathetic. I need to get a life. I need new mountains to summit. New trails. More coastlines. More redwood tree canopies. More sunrises and sunsets. More books to give me a richer context and a broader vocabulary to describe the world.

I started journaling at an early age. My parents were cleaning out their house recently and stumbled upon my first journal. The simple words I recorded even at the tender age of five are still a true reflection of who I am- I love the outdoors and I don't mind long roadtrips to a beautiful destination.

After a long hiatus from journaling, and in essence, from confronting myself, I started again. I began consistently journaling almost two years ago after reading Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way." Every day for the past two years I've kept morning pages- unedited pages of my 'first thoughts'-- these ranging from my daily to-do list, my fears, new ideas for projects, current relationship issues, to big dreams and deep desires. It began as a daily morning practice at a time in my life when I was in the middle of a dark forest and struggling to find the path back home. Back home to myself, really. My journal was a flashlight. It still is.

To see how a life unfolds in organic and unexpected ways is precious. To witness your own growth trajectory in real-time, in your own handwriting, is perhaps the greatest gift of all. Since writing this entry one year ago, I have summited mountains, run along new trails, broadened my appreciation of the California coastline, and buried my nose in beautiful writing. I don't ever think I'll be done, but I'm appreciating how much life can actually be experienced in one year.

Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, Big Sur

Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, Big Sur

Ewoldsen Trail, Big Sur

Bixby Bridge, Big Sur

Russian Gulch State Park, Mendocino

Mendocino Woodlands.

HELL YES.

“The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.”

— Joseph Campbell

Point Lobos State Reserve

One of the best pieces of advice I received this year came from Derek Sivers. Use this rule if you're often over-committed or too scattered:

If you’re not saying “HELL YEAH!” about something, say “no”.

When deciding whether to do something, if you feel anything less than “Wow! That would be amazing! Absolutely! Hell yeah!” — then say “no.”

When you say no to most things, you leave room in your life to really throw yourself completely into that rare thing that makes you say “HELL YEAH!”

Every event you get invited to. Every request to start a new project. If you’re not saying “HELL YEAH!” about it, say “no.”

We’re all busy. We’ve all taken on too much. Saying yes to less is the way out.

Calm and Clear and Bright.

“Like attracts like. Just be who you are, calm and clear and bright. Automatically, as we shine who we are, asking ourselves every minute is this what I really want to do, doing it only when we answer yes, automatically that turns away those who have nothing to learn from who we are, and attracts those who do, and from whom we have to learn, as well.”

— Richard Bach, Illusions

REVITALIZE 1/2 Day Retreat: Fall Edition!

Upper Sea Foam Trail, Kennedy Grove Regional Park

Take some time out for yourself before the busy holiday season begins with a 1/2 day of hiking, yoga, fresh air and a delicious plant-based lunch.

This event will provide you with the chance to slow down, unplug, breathe, and soak up the hidden beauty nestled in the Bay Area.

Lower Sea Foam Trail, Kennedy Grove Regional Park

DATE: Saturday, November 12, 2016

TIME: 9:30am - 2pm

LOCATION: Kennedy Grove Regional Recreation Area (6531 San Pablo Dam Road, El Sobrante, CA)

TENTATIVE SCHEDULE: Hike (2-3 miles) led by Julianne from 10-11am. Yoga taught by Praveena, certified yoga instructor, from 11-12pm. Enjoy a delicious and nutritious plant-based lunch prepared by two dietitians from 12-1pm. Discussion/Art/Creating (all materials included) 1-2pm

COST: $75

WHAT TO BRING: hiking shoes, yoga mat, towel, water bottle. Dress in warm, comfortable layers.

If you're craving nature, yoga, exploring your creativity and nourishing your body/soul with authentic community, then CONTACT ME to join us on this beautiful fall Saturday. We're looking forward to seeing you there!

The Scenic Route...

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”

— Rabindranath Tagore

Summit of Mt. Tam, East Peak

It's almost noon. We've just climbed down Mt. Tam and I am secretly craving oysters. "You wanna go to The Marshall Store?" my friend asks. I love how he can read my mind. My eyes answer before my mouth can respond. 

The drive from Mt. Tam to The Marshall Store is only 27 miles, but it seems to take forever. The narrow roads curve between rows of Redwoods and the switchbacks make any passenger dizzy with nausea. I have the windows down and fill my lungs with the sweet scent of damp leaves after a storm. I tell him to take pictures out of the car window and squeal with delight when I see the sun's rays illuminate the burnt orange leaves. 

One of my favorite things about the fall season... contrasting colors and autumn leaves.

We've ridden these roads on our bikes and can recall every turn, climb, and crest of the road like a person remembers the curves of their first lover. We're now driving and descending down the road that we once climbed together on our bikes. Now in the car, I laugh and turn wide along the steep turns. There's one steep switchback I come across and look over- "Remember? This is where you told me to not ask anymore questions because you didn't want to talk to me (true story)." "It's just because I couldn't breathe." Every conversation and memory is stamped into this road.

Climbing up Mt. Tam

The terrain changes and opens up into the dry, stark hills of the Seven Sisters. I remember how horrible I felt that day on that particular part of the ride. With each "sister" my legs increasingly loaded up with lactic acid and it became more of a mental fight to get through each progressive hill climb. 

Seven Sisters. I forget which "sister" this was. Why not be an only child?!?

I tell him that it's so much better driving it this time. We both know I'm lying. It's just easier, not better. 

"They could've easily build a highway here," he says. "But I'm glad they didn't. This road puts us in the way of beauty." It is the most inefficient route imaginable, but we finally arrive at The Marshall Store having already experienced a full 5-course meal of all that nature has to offer.

Lunch at The Marshall Store. Delicious.

I think the same thing happens in life too. Some of the wisest and grounded people I know experienced confusing labyrinths early on, only to arrive at their destination full of wisdom and resilience. That crappy job they worked in their 20s, that failed marriage, the years raising kids alone, that move across the country. At the time it seems like a winding and inefficient route to the destination. But little did they know it was giving them the perspective and resolve they needed for later on. These narrow switchbacks through the mist and trees were their becoming.

Sometimes easier is not better. Sometimes the more scenic route is worth the extra time. Which makes your arrival that much sweeter.

What Are You Painting?

“Your body is not your masterpiece. Your life is. It is suggested to us a million times that our BODIES are PROJECTS. They aren’t. Our lives are. Our spirituality is. Our relationships are. Our work is. Your body is not your art. It’s your paintbrush. Whether your paintbrush is a tall paintbrush or a thin paintbrush or a stocky paintbrush or a scratched up paintbrush is completely irrelevant. What is relevant is that YOU HAVE A PAINTBRUSH which can be used to transfer your insides onto the canvas of your life- where others can see it and be inspired by it and comforted by it.”

— Glennon Doyle Melton

One of my favorite places to clear my mind and enjoy the beauty around me.

It's tradition to finish all of my coast rides at the San Benito House Deli in Half Moon Bay. A year ago I met Marie, the lovely woman who works behind the counter. We've since become pen pals. Every few weeks I'll receive some lovely photos that she's taken and has adhered to cardstock with her own personal message in cursive across the back. I happily created a few of my #100DaysofMaking cards especially for her.

She tells me that she's proud of my project. But she's also quick to add that I'm not the only one she sends letters to- "I write to older folks, those who are home-bound or in the hospital. Those who really need a lot of love." I ask how long she's been sending out photographs and cards to people in the mail. She smiles and her eyes twinkle. "30 years."

Marie makes the most amazing sandwiches at work. But after the deli closes and she heads home is when her real work begins. She is the most magnificent paintbrush I know, and raises the bar so high in loving people on a grand and magnificent scale. If you're in Half Moon Bay, drop by the deli and give her a hug. May the love she's poured into the world return to her tenfold.

What are you painting with your paintbrush? You are just as inspiring and have the opportunity to leave your mark on this world in your own unique way. As Neil Gaiman says, "And now go, and make interesting mistakes, make amazing mistakes, make glorious and fantastic mistakes. Break rules. Leave the world more interesting for your being here. MAKE GOOD ART."

Candlelight Yoga 10/23

As the seasons change, it's helpful to take a moment to pause and reconnect with your body and breath. Praveena Kumar will guide a restorative evening practice of Hatha yoga by candlelight. I hope you can join us on the mat.

Date: Sunday, October 23

Time: 5:30-7pm

Place: Vara Healing Arts Studio on 850 Talbot Avenue in Albany, CA

Cost: Donation-based. 50% of all donations will go to GlobalGiving to help the Hurricane Matthew victims.

Given studio space considerations, please contact me to reserve your spot. We look forward to spending the evening with you.

Reason Enough.

Illustration by Elle Luna

I'm nearing the home stretch of my #100daysofmaking project. Day 93, to be exact. The 100DayProject is a call to create or make something consistently for 100 days. Write a poem, sketch, draw, or do whatever makes you greet your inner artist and say, "Hello! It's been awhile. Remind me again of who you are and what you're inspired by?" The bottom line is to create something everyday. Mostly it's the fear of not having the perfect finished product that prevents us from starting at all. This project forces you to start and finish something new and exercise your creativity muscle. Since July 1st, I've committed to making a homemade card each day. 

I've created for myself, for new acquaintances and old friends, for co-workers and complete strangers. Each has had its own creative challenges and blessings. My favorite was creating a card for a runner in Singapore, who I'd met over Instagram. 

Her card never arrived. It was one of the first I'd tried watercoloring for, and I used her own words across the front because oftentimes we quote others but don't realize the beauty and power that our words have. We patiently waited. 10 days. 14 days. 3 weeks. 5 weeks. The thought that my handmade card was floating around lost somewhere between the United States and Singapore made me sick. 

She was gracious. Her excitement when I finally sent her a picture of the card that she never received was sweet and heart-breaking. I write a post about fearfully running underneath the Golden Gate bridge and feeling like it's a miracle that the bridge isn't collapsing on top of me with its sheer weight. And the next day, riding my bike on the same bridge, marveling at the beautiful view and not thinking twice about being supported by only steel and wire. Perspective is everything- we can choose to live under the bridge thinking that everything is about to collapse and go wrong, or we can be on top looking ahead with wonderment and awe. She shares candidly about how she used to live in despair under that bridge, but running enabled her to find inner strength and overcome fear. Her transparency touches me.

And so I do what my heart tells me to do. I make her another card that is inspired by her story.

This time, I walk into the post office, lay the envelope on the counter and tell the postal worker that I need this to be sent as registered mail. 

He looks at me, brows furrowed. "What's in here?"

"It's a card. It's very important that it gets to her. Last time it got lost in the mail."

He stares at me, then down at the envelope with my cursive calligraphy across the front. "Why do you want to send this as registered mail if it's just a card? It is very expensive."

He tells me the cost. It's more than my watercolors and chalk pastels and the the 50 blank card and envelope sets.

I don't blink. "Because I made this."

He nods. There are no more questions exchanged. The act of creating something from nothing, for someone else, is reason enough.

14 days later, it arrives in Singapore. Of all the cards that have been sent and received from this project, this one makes my heart leap with joy the most. Making something for someone, I've learned, is priceless. And trying to put a dollar amount on its worth is like trying to capture the ocean in a bottle. 

The Best Parts of Being a Betty...

Representing Betty Designs both on and off the race course as a part of Team Betty 2016 has been one of the highlights of this year. I've been inspired by strong and resilient women from all around the world. It's not like junior high anymore, thankfully, where everyone was catty and cruel. Where girls would gossip and tear each other down since we were all self-conscious and drowning in our own insecurities, and tainting another's image seemed like the only way to make yourself shine. We're women now. We know better. It's far more rewarding to be in the business of empowering and encouraging each other. If a fellow 'Betty' shares her deepest and most vulnerable struggles, we rally around her and offer advice and love her in the best ways we know how. Because that's what teammates do.

It's been an amazing year of racing (grateful to have snagged some podium wins!), but more importantly, connecting with some of the strongest and resilient women in sport.

Alison killing it on the race course at Solana Beach Triathlon, July 2016

Aside from racing, the opportunity to cheer on fellow teammates at races has been one of the perks. I met Alison, a fellow Betty from Canada, thirty minutes before the gun went off for her swim start in Solana Beach. It felt like we had known each other for much longer, and she put up with me randomly showing up all along the race course and screaming at her to run faster. How cool is that?

Body marking Jessica before Pacific Grove Triathlon, where she was the featured athlete for TriCalifornia Events. So proud!

According to Kristin Mayer (founder/owner of Betty Designs): The #BettySquad is group of like-minded women who embody the spirit of being a Betty. We are strong, spirited, athletic, and keep fitness, fun + fashion at the forefront. We play hard and work harder, and feel confident in our skin, skinsuits, or wetsuits while we do it. We're powerful alone, but together, we're unstoppable. 

Coast rides with fellow teammate Jessica Frazier. 

Applications for Team Betty 2017 are open now until October 10, 2017. Apply HERE now if you want to be a Betty!