An unfamiliar companion has been hanging around me lately. His name is Death.

Within the last month, I have learned that our sweet old dog, Masala, is dying of liver cancer. I’ve made a new friend, Mitali, who, at age 32, has devoted the past 18 months of her life to serving as caretaker for her father as he battles colon cancer. And another close friend called to tell me that her husband of 20 years, her best friend, had been killed in a tragic accident.

There is a message here about impermanence. While I’ve heard it many times before, somehow every time an unexpected event happens or I receive unwelcome news, I have to learn the lesson all over again. We are not in control of so many things.

When I was going through a divorce eight years ago, I took great comfort from the book When Things Fall Apart, by American Buddhist nun Pema Chodron. She reminds us that in spite of all our carefully-laid plans and best efforts, the only aspect of life we can predict with certainty is change. Therefore, rather than fighting against forces larger than ourselves to maintain a semblance of control, we’re best served by surrendering to the reality of impermanence. Accepting that we are truly adrift in a sea of unknown. When we do, we realize that the only place where we truly can, where in fact we must, find grounding is in ourselves. I would add: and in our relationship to the higher power.

It is a powerful — and threatening — message to digest. But the irony is that when we embrace impermanence, when we surrender to God, we don’t become weak; we grow that much stronger.

When I came to accept my life as it is in this very moment, when I learned to find peace, joy and love for myself as I am right now, I knew for the first time who I was and what life is about. I am a peaceful warrior. My purpose on this planet is to help others overcome their self-sabotaging patterns and achieve their loftiest goals. I even have a mantra: “Fear less, love more!” And I have seen with absolute clarity that the point of being here is only, truly, simply, beautifully… to love.

I had done more than overcome the pain of my divorce. The very heartbreak I experienced had cracked me open, exposed my flaws, and readied me to form even deeper and more profound connections with myself and others.

And that’s exactly when I united with the love of my life, Kiran. My soulmate. My creative partner. My inspiration. After six long years of loneliness and personal growth, and not a moment sooner. Shiva the Destroyer had set my old life on fire and burned it to the ground. From the ashes, I had rebuilt on a foundation of trust, love, and radical honesty. Now, God the creator had brought me my greatest gift. True love.

But any of this might — will — disappear again at any moment. An accident. A tragedy. An illness. We know that we all will die someday. Some of us are facing that truth on a moment-by-moment basis. Others are choosing to forget, to push it aside, to pretend like we can outsmart God. I do both, depending on the day.

Buddhism, a well of wisdom from which I have drawn much comfort, preaches non-attachment. You’re not supposed to give weight to your past, your story, your ego, your societal position, or even your friendships. The Dalai Lama himself was taught to view all beings as his mothers, to love every single one of us equally, without giving any special consideration to his real-life blood family.

Well, I’m no Tibetan Buddhist master. While it’s true that beyond having enough clothes, food, and shelter to keep me safe and sound, I could care less about status, wealth, or possessions, I also choose to attach myself to my loved ones. I love them fiercely, like a lioness. And now that it is time to say goodbye to one, my Bodhisattva of a doggie companion, it pains me more deeply than I thought possible. My heart cracked to allow more love in, and when it did, it also opened the gateway to more suffering.

But I am okay with that. In fact, I welcome it.

I am reminded of the words of Kahlil Gibran in The Prophet:

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain… When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

So be it. I will carve deeper the sorrows so that my cup of happiness may overflow. I will sob and ache as I let go of my beloveds and hold tight those around me as they grieve their losses, so that one day, we all may cry again with tears of joy.

Meanwhile, I walk by the ocean and watch the waves roll in, exactly as they have done for millions of years. Unperturbed by our human loves and frailty, our strengths and pain.

How comforting, the vast indifference of the sea.

Photo credits: Kiran Ramchandran, @KIRANCreates on Instagram

My husband Kiran and I live in L.A., but we came out to New York last week for 10 days of work and fun. Kiran’s parents and brother live in Long Island, where he grew up, so we set out to visit them for the weekend. We ended up staying overnight on Monday while Hurricane Sandy blew through, stealing our power and cell phone service.

On Tuesday morning, Kiran’s mother bravely drove us back into Manhattan, where we thought we’d have greater access to electricity and communication. Instead, all was dark and silent at the Union Square apartment we’d rented for the week. Wandering the surrounding blocks revealed only a handful of delis open, running off generators. Every other shop was locked and sealed shut.

People roamed the streets with eyes wide, as if in a zombie apocalypse daze. When night fell, the scene grew even creepier. Not a single streetlight, storefront, restaurant or bar illuminated the darkness for more than 30 blocks of lower Manhattan.

After camping out for a day and a half in hotel lobbies and what few cafes we could find open north of 40th Street, Kiran and I gave up on NYC. On Wednesday afternoon, we retreated to a friend’s house near Long Island City, an area unaffected by Sandy’s fierce winds and waves. We hope to be leaving on our scheduled flight from JFK this afternoon.

Whenever I found myself getting frustrated with our circumstances over the past five days, it occurred to me that this “storm of the century” serves as an excellent reminder of several spiritual lessons.

1. We’re not in control.

Throughout my 30s, the universe delivered this message to me over and over again. I got divorced at 32. I then spent years in a tumultuous relationship. As I neared 40, I struggled to accept that I had little control over finding a terrific partner with whom to have children — my strongest desire in life. I took control of my fertility as best I could by freezing my eggs. I also used meditation, yoga, psychotherapy, and friendships to lean into the discomfort and uncertainty about my future.

I thought I had learned my lesson.

Yet when news reports made it clear that I would miss several important work meetings this week, the OCD, organizer, high-achiever part of my brain shouted, “But what about my plans?” I had to consciously remind myself: “You’re not in control.”

As annoying as it can be, it’s also a relief to know that we’re not completely responsible for everything that happens in our life — nor is anyone else. It gives us permission to let ourselves, and others, off the hook.

In fact, what I’ve learned as a result of a decade of struggle is that the river of life not only flows on, navigating its way around obstacles in your path… if you let it, it can carry you in amazing, unexpected, and beautiful directions. If not for my divorce, I never would have ended up marrying the love of my life, Kiran, last year. If not for those relationship difficulties, I never would have learned to truly, deeply appreciate and care for myself. Ten years downstream, I’m so much happier thanks to the very challenges I once cursed for derailing my plans.

2. The world is much bigger than us.

This spiritual lesson goes hand-in-hand with “you’re not in control,” but it’s a little bit different. Any act of God, natural disaster, or unanticipated large-scale event that derails our plans reminds us that the universe is so much bigger than we make it out to be as we busily scurry about our daily lives.

Hurricane Sandy delivered this message in a booming voice. As of Thursday, subways and trains in New York had only partially resumed service. Areas of the East Coast will take years to recover. The storm has spoken: We humans are just tiny sparkling specks floating ever so briefly in the vast kaleidoscope of existence.

Why is this fact comforting? Because surrendering to our relative insignificance gives us permission to stop taking ourselves so seriously. We can laugh at our failures. We can forgive ourselves for the ways we’ve disappointed ourselves and our loved ones. We can stop imagining that every accomplishment or mistake carries such great weight. We can relax, enjoying the moment and allowing ourselves to just be.

3. We can be the calm in the storm.

“Nothing goes away until it has taught us what we need to know,” writes Buddhist nun and bestselling author Pema Chodron.

Several days after Hurricane Sandy and her aftermath, as New York City struggles to return to business as usual, it behooves us to ask: What does this storm want us to learn?

Even though we often convince ourselves that our lives are stable — that we know what will happen tomorrow and the day after that — it’s only an illusion. There is no such thing as certainty.

Given the unpredictable nature of reality, the most reliable place to find serenity is in our own hearts and minds. We can’t control much in the world around us. We may be relatively small and insignificant in comparison to the universe as a whole. But we can be the calm in the storm. We can breathe, connect with our inner peace, and find a grounded, centered place within… even when life gets more than a little bit crazy.

4. There’s always something to feel grateful for.

Whenever I feel my anxiety begin to ratchet up, I remember to count my blessings. An old trick but an effective one, it kept me going throughout my tumultuous 30s. “Sure, I may not have a family of my own,” I’d say to myself. “But I get to travel and have incredible experiences.”

Gratitude served as a valuable tool during Hurricane Sandy, as well. Whenever I’d start to feel unlucky to have traveled to New York during a record-breaking storm, I’d take a few moments to be thankful. “Lucky me to have shelter. To have been able to stock up on food and water. To be with my beloved husband and his family. To know that the government and many volunteers are keeping our streets and citizens safe.”

Whether or not the storm winds howled through your neighborhood this past week, take a moment to consider what you are grateful for. It’s never a bad time to appreciate all that we have.

5. We can shine our light in the darkness.

The streets of lower Manhattan may have been cloaked in shadows, but we can be the light casting aside the darkness. When those around us begin to complain about how awful Hurricane Sandy has been and how they’re still suffering from lack of transit service or power, we can be the ones to express gratitude for what went right. How the weather reports gave us plenty of time to prepare. How people living in coastal areas were evacuated to shelters. How our news stations kept us informed.

In general, Hurricane Sandy or not, when those around us grow snappy at each other, impatient, frustrated, or annoyed with their lives, we can shine our inner light into the gloom. We can point out what’s right. We can express our love. We can be the ones to smile at a stranger. To offer a compliment to a neighbor, shopkeeper, or cab driver. To thank those who make our lives a little easier.

Always, we can choose to be the ones who bring joy, thankfulness, compassion, and appreciation to those around us. No matter what storms may rage.

Photo credits: Kiran Ramchandran

The amazing Mike Walsh somehow manages to be an entrepreneur, investor and advisor to startups, supporter of several charities, and devoted husband and father to two boys. Oh, and he’s working on a film/book project on the side. How does he do it?

As Mike wrote in this blog, “I simply optimize for joy: the amount of joy that I experience, and the amount of joy that I can bring to others, including friends, family and often strangers.

“In his New York Times best seller Emotional Equations, my friend Chip Conley expresses joy in the following way: Joy = Love-Fear

“Being an engineer by training, that equation works for me. If you drive fear to a number approaching zero, then Joy = Love. The more love you experience and give, the more joy you have.

“Who doesn’t want that? Why optimize for anything else? What else is there?”

Given that my personal mantra is “Fear Less, Love More,” and I consider my role in the world to be a Promoter of Joy, I simply had to talk to Mike to explore further how he came to this life philosophy.

MeiMei: Tell me, Mike. How did you arrive at “optimize for joy” as your guiding principle?

Mike: It started when I was 13. I was hit by lightening coming home from a football game with my buddies. It should’ve killed me–I popped 10 feet in the air and landed on my elbow, breaking it. At that moment, I was like, “To hell with this. I’m just going to do whatever I want to do, and not be afraid to try new things.” I immediately became more outgoing and adventurous.

Over the years, I’ve had a lot of luck in my career and my personal life. I married an amazing woman and we have two great kids. Professionally, I majored in engineering and business, and have worked for Raytheon building missile defense systems, for Kevin Costner creating an oil spill cleanup company, and founded and sold a software company. Eventually, I was able to invest in and advise several successful startups.

Then 18 months ago, my older brother died in a snow mobile accident. Even though we saw each other every year, I didn’t know how much I looked up to him until he was gone. I was completely crushed. He taught me everything: how to ride motorcycles, build things, raise children. He was my hero. So then I felt like, “I’m not compromising anything in my life, even for a day.”

As I was writing my brother’s eulogy, I spoke with a lot of people who knew him, and they all talked about how generous he was. He would fix things for people, literally hundreds of people. He would do this after his four daughters went to sleep, from 9 pm til midnight, then get up at 5:30 am to go to work. As I talked with these people whose lives he had affected profoundly, I realized the impact of his generosity.

Just six months later, a good friend of mine committed suicide. This tragedy emphasized to me even more the idea that you can’t waste a single day.

I now have no tolerance for wasting time. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do. That’s different. You do them to get to the end result–to help other people in your life, to bring them joy. But if it’s not the right thing for anyone, I’m not going to let it slide.

I now make an intentional effort to devote 30-40% of my time directly to helping other people: advising companies, making introductions, and working for nonprofits like charity: water. I’ll admit, helping others is definitely a selfish act in that it makes me feel happy. I would rather have someone say, “Wow, thank you so much for writing that letter that helped us get funding” than hand me a commission check. It’s something deeper, which in the last two years I’ve really come to value.

I wasn’t like that before. I was all about, “How can I build this, sell it, and make a shitload of money?” But I walked away from my brother’s death and my friend’s suicide with the realization that life is too short and the secret to happiness is to be generous. Who cares about X amount of bucks coming in, as long as we can get our kids a good education? We have a modest place in San Francisco. I don’t need gobs of money. I’d rather spend my time and money helping others, and bringing joy to my own and other people’s lives.

***
Mike is currently raising a fund to invest in early-stage startups, something that he’s always wanted to do.

He is also working on a book/video series about generosity, for which he has interviewed Bill Gates, Tony Hsieh, Lauren Bush, Scott Harrison, Blake Mycoskie, Ted Leonsis, Chris Sacca, Ben Zander, teachers, healthcare workers, religious leaders, the head of UNICEF and a bunch of other people who are making a huge difference in the world.

Today marks the one-year anniversary of the most obvious and easy, most joyful and profound decision of my adult existence: To marry the Love of My Life, Kiran.

We eloped to the Santa Barbara courthouse on September 12, 2011. Didn’t tell anyone before we did it. Took only our dog as our witness. The craziest part was that I’d only moved to LA to be with Kiran two months prior, and we had been in an intimate relationship for a mere five months.

We have spent every single day since falling more madly in love, unfolding deeper connections, and nestling further into one another’s hearts and souls.

However, the journey here wasn’t straightforward, the jungle path not always clear. Kiran and I met in January 2008 on a beach in Costa Rica and discovered an instant, close friendship. I knew within minutes of speaking with him that he was The One. Yet still it took me three years to embrace my intuition fully. Three years for us to connect romantically.

Why? I believe we simply had to overcome our fears: we each had failed marriages and were embroiled in difficult current relationships; I knew I’d have to uproot my life to move from San Francisco to LA; etc. We had to work up the courage to take the bold, life-changing leap of faith into each other’s arms.

On the one hand, I’d like to save you those confusing years we endured between becoming friends and uniting as partners and lovers. On the other hand, I’ve made the mistake of plunging headfirst into a serious relationship that wasn’t satisfying and spent years trying to force it to work. I would rather you avoid traveling down that dark road.

Together, Kiran and I have come up with this list of 10 signs that you’ve found true love. We agree that all 10 exist in our romance. And, as further evidence, very few of the 10 were present in our previous serious relationships.

1. Fireworks Explode

Some people say you don’t need an initial spark of sexual attraction to form a satisfying and enduring romantic relationship. We disagree. When you first meet your person, there ought to be Fourth of July-worthy fireworks.

Sure, the flames of passion won’t keep a relationship going strong forever. You’ll need mutual respect, compassion, and great communication. But physical connection provides a powerful platform upon which to build intimacy and trust.

2. It’s Comfortable

While there are sparks, you also should feel, when you’re hanging out with your person, like you’re wearing a pair of soft, cozy pajamas. There’s no struggle to play some archetypal role (the Sexy Slut, the Nurturing Mother, the Cool Guy). No desire to be just a bit funnier or smarter, better looking or a better athlete. You’re yourself, and that’s awesome.

3. Your Hearts Say Yes

You commit to each other whole-heartedly and without reservation. Kiran says, “YES is the greatest word we have in our quiver of love arrows. YES tells us what we want. And by expressing that want, we express ourselves. We express what we believe. We express our claim on this world. Saying YES to our love affirms my life.”

4. Radical Honesty Abounds

Do you find yourself keeping secrets from your partner? That’s a sure sign he or she is not The One.

When it’s true love, you should find yourself wanting to share everything. Opening up the fire hydrant of your heart and gushing out your most closely guarded sources of pride and shame. And on a daily basis, you should want your beloved to know what you’re up to; whom you’re seeing, emailing and texting; what you’re thinking and feeling. Your love is made simple and true by being honest.

5. We Comes Before Me

Psychologists say that we live in an age of narcissism. We’re each wrapped up in our individual journeys. I’ve personally spent the better part of the last ten years on a spiritual journey to sort myself out and find peace.

But the moment I met Kiran, I realized that I would put us, our needs, and our goals, ahead of me, mine, and I. It’s been incredibly inspiring and freeing. I fully anticipate that having children (which we hope to do soon) will only increase that sensation exponentially.

6. Nothing Means More

Kiran writes, “Descartes had it wrong. It’s not, ‘I think, therefore I am.’ It’s, ‘I love, therefore I am.’ There are no achievements that mean more to me, that I value greater, than growing this love–growing it large and strong, reaching for the infinite sky and pushing deep into the endless layers of the earth. A mighty sequoia that is immutable in its presence, strength, and inspiration. So large a champion of life that it daunts all in its proximity.”

7. It’s a Romance, not a Relationship

Kiran and I wrote an entire blog on this subject alone. You should feel swept away by your relationship. You ought to want to scream about your partner’s awesomeness to the world.

On the contrary, here’s a huge red flag: you spend more time talking about your relationship than actually living it. You’re constantly dissecting, negotiating, and evaluating. People say, “Relationships are work.” Most of the time, it shouldn’t feel like that. It should feel happy, fulfilling, and fun.

8. Friends and Family Agree

Oh, how I wish I’d listened to my friends and family. They told me over and over again during my unhappy years with my ex-boyfriend that I should let go of him and move on. But did I heed their advice? No. I stubbornly continued to struggle to make our relationship work for years.

The contrast, when my romance with Kiran ignited, couldn’t have been more striking. My friends and family rejoiced. My best friend Jen pulled him aside at her birthday party and said, “We’ve been waiting for you for years.” Similarly, his mother welcomed me into his family with open arms.

9. You Can’t Wait to Come Home

I believe one of the most valuable tests of your connection to your partner lies in being mindful of how you feel when you’re returning home from a trip. On the plane back to San Francisco during my first marriage, I would find myself overwhelmed with sadness. Constrained. Short of breath, even. I attributed this to my innate wanderlust. “I’ll always be happiest when I’m on the road,” I’d tell myself.

But in my marriage to Kiran, everything is different. I have, for the first time in my life, cut trips short to come home to him. I get excited as I step onto the plane back to LA, my heart beating like a schoolgirl’s. Home is where my LOML is. I want to be near him always.

10. You Feel Like You’ve Won the Lottery

Every morning when I awake, I see Kiran’s thick black curls massed on the pillow next to me and I think, “Thank God, it’s real. I’m married to the Love of My Life.” I genuinely feel, on a daily basis, as though I’ve won the lottery.

When I first moved to LA in late June of 2011, Kiran and I discovered that we had both come across something poet Theodore Roethke had said about his wife: “More than I’d hoped; Less than I’d dreamed.” We concurred that this was a crying shame. Rather, we are blessed to have found, “More than I’d dreamed; Everything I deserve.”

May this be your mantra, too. May it guide you away from compromise, and towards the fulfillment of your wildest hopes and desires. Because that’s what it’s like when you find The One.

Photo by Kiran Ramchandran, @KIRANCreates on Instagram.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Do those words make you shudder? Whether or not you belong to the 50 percent of the American population that is unmarried, it very well may. Like me, you may get turned off by the gluttonous commercialism of the occasion.

I used to dread Valentine’s Day as a single person. This year, I’m happily married and can’t wait to celebrate withLove of My Life Kiran, who is cooking me an authentic Indian meal (yum!). But last year and for many of the preceding five years, I did not have a honey to snuggle up with on Feb. 14.

I tried various coping strategies:

1) Ignore it. Problem: Impossible. Reminders everywhere.

2) Belittle it. Make snide comments about how Hallmark invented the occasion in order to sell greeting cards. Problem: Not satisfying.

3) Rise above it. Make a hippie remark such as, “Shouldn’t we all just love each other and express that love for all humankind every single day?” Fair enough, we should. Problem: I’d still be wishing I was one of those blissfully-partnered people.

4) GNO. Girlfriends Night Out. Go to dinner and then dancing with a bunch of single women friends. Get plastered to numb the pain. Guaranteed to work for approximately four to six hours. Problem: Kicks you in the head the next morning with the dreaded Valentine’s Day hangover.

But this year, thanks to my delightful friend Christine Hassler, I have a better solution for all you Valentine’s Day skeptics out there — single or not: Be Your Own Valentine.

Christine serves as a positive force for personal transformation. On Feb. 22, the author, speaker, life coach, and The Huffington Postblogger is co-hosting a free teleseminar on how to fall in love with your love life no matter who or who isn’t sleeping next to you. She and her colleague Christine Arylo will then lead a 40-day seminar entitled, “Choosing ME over WE,” which is designed to “end love-starvation” and help people “take their Love Power back.”

And don’t worry. Christine Hassler is no stranger to the Valentine’s Day conundrum, being single herself. Her intention is to get married and have children, but it hasn’t happened for her yet — just as it didn’t happen for me until I was late in my 30s.

At a young age, Christine was a successful Hollywood agent, mingling with LA’s rich and famous. But she always perceived herself as “failing in love”: She dated an abusive man in her early 20s and then an addict, her fiance dumped her in her mid 20s, and in her late 20s she got married then divorced by her early 30s. This time, when she ended up single, she resolved to prioritize her relationship with herself.

“I’d decided in fourth grade when some girls started an I Hate Christine club that I was unloveable,” Christine told me. “I had always been waiting for some knight in shining armor to come save me. But after my divorce, as trite as it sounds, I realized that the person whose love I was really craving was my own.”

So Christine set out to find out what “fall in love with you” really meant, on a deeper-than-cliche level. “This wasn’t about doing yoga and taking baths,” she smirked. “It was about building a healthy relationship with myself.”

First, Christine stopped being so critical of herself. She also ceased referring to her past relationships as “failures” and instead began framing them as catalysts for personal growth. “I used to judge the success of relationships based on longevity. But now I realize they should be judged based on what you learned.” Finally, she vowed to stop living with the belief that “things will get better when I have a partner,” and embrace her singledom. She focused on writing her second book, building her coaching practice, pursuing a master’s degree in spiritual psychology, and speaking at colleges and corporations across the country.

Christine’s hope is to show people in any relationship status that you can truly learn to be the source of your own happiness. On the call, in the course, and in her coaching practice, she guides people to identify and rewrite their love stories, then develop new strategies for getting love. “So many people need to forgive themselves and their past partners, release negative emotions rather than recycling them, and cut their energetic ties to their exes,” she said.

Has the program worked for her? Christine says yes. “In the past when I was single, I felt like my head was on a swivel. I was always looking around, asking myself, ‘Where is he? Where is he?’ It was a huge energy drain and took me out of my enjoyment of the present moment. I was living in the when/then.

“Now I am focused on living the best life I can, trusting that by that by doing what I’m passionate about, I will naturally attract a fantastic man to me. I can date without all that pain and pent up frustration that used to undermine me. I won’t contort myself into being ‘a perfect fit’ for someone who isn’t right for me.”

It can be tough to battle the single blues, Christine admits. “We’re all channeling old cellular memory that tells us, ‘If I don’t have a man, I won’t survive.’ We all have unconscious conditioning that says, ‘If I’m not chosen, then I’m not lovable.’ Plus then we have societal expectations. People always ask, ‘Why are you single?’ as if there must be something wrong with you. It can be challenging to dampen the internal and external judgment.”

I asked Christine for one tip for singles in search of partners — and then wished I’d thought of it myself. You know how the movie “The Secret” and these new-age spiritual blogs are always telling you to manifest by writing down an actual list of the qualities you’re looking for in a mate: good looking, intelligent, successful in career, funny, warm-hearted, self-aware, an adventurer, etc.? (I actually did this just prior to randomly meeting my now-husband Kiran in Costa Rica four years ago. He fulfilled every single criteria I’d written down in my journal, I swear.)

Well, Christine suggests that you make your wish list, and then resolve to become all of those things yourself. She did that a year ago, and has since become far more self-loving. “I seek to embody every item I’ve recorded. If I want my man to be compassionate, then I must be compassionate. If I want him to be funny, then I need to express my sense of humor. This way, I can be my own best partner. Pretty much I can be everything on the list for myself — except tall.”

I often find that people can get critical of this type of message, so I asked Christine if she could explain the difference between self-love and selfishness. “Selfishness has judgment attached to it,” Christine replied. “You’re holding out from others, contracting, protecting yourself. Self-love feels expansive and honoring. You’re being of service to others by treating yourself well.”

Christine feels her message is critical for women, in particular. “Our heart in love is our biggest value. That’s our source. When we’re starved, depleted, or unhealthy in that area of our life, it affects all others — career, family, finances, everything. By paying attention to our relationship with ourselves, we women come back to our infinite source of power — which is love.”

Photo credit: Christine Hassler

Have you ever met someone for the first time and — not in a romantic or sexual way — inexplicably tumbled into a space-time vortex of pure human-to-human connection? As you talk with this stranger, a sense of urgency emerges, while simultaneously you lose track of how many minutes have passed. There’s so much to share! Your speech hastens, your gestures grow larger, your facial expressions more elaborate. Then you find you’re interrupting each other with gasps of, “Me, too!” and “You had a similar experience?” and “Wow.” You feel certain, even if you don’t really believe in reincarnation, that you met this individual in a previous life.

Suddenly, the spell breaks. Sounds and sights from your current reality come flooding back into your awareness. Your partner taps you on the shoulder. “Can we go now, please?” he groans, eyes rolling. Or you get to the front of the line at your favorite local café and the barista asks, “What would you like to order?” Or a siren wails down the street whose corner you’ve been occupying, startling you. You gaze about yourself in a daze. Fifteen minutes have passed, or three, or 60 — it doesn’t matter. You have discovered a soulmate.

This was my experience when I first met Chip Conley at a mutual friend’s birthday party in San Francisco in 2006. Psychology, Joseph Campbell and archetypes, personal transformation, Abraham Maslow and self-actualization, spirituality, yoga, Stanford–we zinged through topics like kids on Christmas morning, delighting as we opened one gift after another to find a cosmic meeting of the minds.

Ever since, Chip Conley has been a dear friend and one of my greatest inspirations in living the Life out Loud: Legendary founder and CEO for two decades of Joie de Vivre, which he grew to be America’s second-largest boutique hotel chain. Bestselling author of PEAK: How Great Companies Get Their Mojo from Maslow. TED speaker on Bhutan’s Gross Happiness Index and measuring what makes life worthwhile. All-around “super human,” to borrow from Chip’s own lexicon.

I’m thrilled about Chip Conley’s latest book, which hits the shelves on January 10: Emotional Equations(watch the whimsical illustrated book promo video here). Chip magically reduces complex conundrums and universal truths into simple equations that help us both understand ourselves and others, and escape from emotional traps that we unconsciously create.

My personal favorite from Emotional Equations is, not surprisingly:

Joy = Love - Fear
My mantra as a Champion Joy-Giver for the past few years has been, “Fear Less, Love More,” so I feel Chip hits the target with this formula.

I’m also a fan of Chip’s Happiness Equation: Wanting What You Have Divided By Having What You Want. Wanting what you have, for me, involves a daily practice of gratitude. Or as Tony, a homeless man I bought dinner for in Los Angeles on New Year’s Eve, put it: “Count your blessings.”

Chip lives and breathes the Life Out Loud more than anyone I have the privilege to call a friend. A few years back, he went through a difficult period: the economy collapsed and his hotel business was struggling; he broke up with a long-time life partner; and a dear friend committed suicide.

Yet unlike many other CEOs and public figures, Chip did not shy away from speaking the truth about how he came to overcome his despair by finding greater meaning in his life (hence his emotional equation:Despair = Suffering - Meaning). On the contrary, he shares his battles openly during his frequent public speaking engagements, and also tells the tale in Emotional Equations. I’ve seen the way audience members respond to this genuine expression of vulnerability, finding inspiration from Chip to confront their own demons.

I wondered why Chip had chosen to share his struggles with such courage and transparency. He said:

I have a mantra, too: ‘As I surrender, more love comes to me.’ For someone who is a Type A CEO like me, the idea of surrender sounds like something Dorothy is supposed to do with the Wicked Witch of the West–something you do when you’re weak, whereas I always felt that I needed to be strong. And yet I’ve seen in myself and others that the most powerful times in your life are when you’re most vulnerable. Realizing how profound vulnerability can be gave me the confidence to expose myself.

Chip explained further:

When you’re armored, positive energy may come toward you, but it can’t get to you. It requires a certain level of trust in others to open yourself up, but if you do, you’ll see rewards. We don’t have control over much in life, but we do have control over how we show up and what we respond to. To show up authentically, as who you really are, creates an environment in which you’re attracting other authentic, courageous people to you. Whereas, if you show up as someone you’re not or don’t show up at all, you become invisible.

“Do you have an emotional equation for living the Life Out Loud?” I asked Chip, in preparation for this blog post.

“I do,” he replied with one of his signature impish grins.

Authenticity = Self-awareness x Courage
“To live the Life Out Loud, you have to be self-aware enough to know who you are, and confident enough to put it out there in the world. The ‘x’ sign is in the equation because self-awareness and confidence are combustible: the two together have a multiplying effect rather than an additive affect. They’re most powerful as combined forces.”

“Any advice for people struggling to live the Life Out Loud?” I asked.

Chip answered:

If you look at the two ingredients of authenticity — this is what is so great about emotional equations — you can see how they influence each other. Personally, I can undermine my authenticity in one of two ways. One, I can be lacking in self-awareness because I tend to be too focused on what others want for me and satisfying their wishes. Two, if I’m not bold and courageous, then I’ll shrink in terms of my willingness to live out loud. So focus on building strength in both of these areas, and you’ll be on your way!

Do you have any emotional equations that guide you in your life? If so, please share in the Comments section of this post and I’ll be sure to pass them along, or visit the Emotional Equations website and post your responses there.

Photo credit: Lisa Keating

I never was a romantic. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t sentimental; I cried at the expected moments during chick flicks and even the occasional TV commercial. I enjoyed celebrating anniversaries of first dates and bringing unexpected gifts home to my partner for no reason. But I didn’t believe in such fantasies as “true love” and “love at first sight.”

Until I met the Love of My Life, Kiran, I was hopelessly pragmatic. I’d cite statistics when talking with my friends about finding life partners.

“Look,” I’d say, assuming a newscaster tone of voice, “There are 7 billion people on this planet. If you get out there and meet enough of them, you’re sure to find a soul mate. It’s a numbers game.”

But my worldview got turned upside-down this year. I met Kiran completely by chance on a beach in Costa Rica early in 2008 — and it was love at first sight. However, thanks in part to my no-nonsense nature, it took us three years to venture from friendship into relationship territory.

When we did make the decision to give our romance a chance to blossom this past spring, it flourished like Jack’s beanstalk. I moved from San Francisco to LA to be with Kiran after only two months of dating. We eloped less than three months after that.

Suddenly, I find that I am no longer “Miss Practicality,” as my college friends nicknamed me decades ago. I’ll be sitting at a restaurant telling new acquaintances mine and Kiran’s love story, and I’ll find myself saying things like, “It was meant to be,” and “He is my destiny.”

During our short time together as a couple, Kiran and I have navigated our share of scratchy patches. Yet even when we have misunderstandings or I get snappy (which I do too often… but hey, I’m working on it!), we find our way back to a profound connection and deep love.

Let’s be honest here: Kiran gets most of the credit. Unlike me, he was born a romantic — wildly creative, beautifully sensitive and capable of imagining a world that is far more magical than ours. The care and attention he gives our romance has kept our intimate bond sacred.

While we co-authored this blog, the lessons are Kiran’s. I only hope that by sharing them, I can inspire you in the ways that the Love of My Life has inspired me.

1. Call it a romance

Relationships are work. That’s what you hear people say, time and again.

“So let’s not call it a relationship,” is Kiran’s response. “Let’s call it a romance.”

The simple act of giving our partnership this label makes it feel special. When you’re in a relationship, it does take work to settle conflicts. When you’re in a romance, it takes a passionate moment of disagreement, followed by an even more passionate reconnection.

2. Gush on each other

Kiran is truly gifted in paying compliments. Several evenings a week, when he comes home from work, he sits me down on the sofa and begins reciting to me all the reasons that he loves me. “My love supreme,” he says, cradling my head in his hands. “You are so beautiful, so talented…” (I won’t go on and on here as he does, lest you grow annoyed and click away on this Lindsay Lohan headline.)

Several times a week, I receive a voicemail from Kiran. He’s singing a made-up song about how much he adores me.

“I like to gush on you,” Kiran says. He didn’t have to teach me to do the same. I started mimicking him of my own accord.

Seriously, I don’t think you can gush on your loved one too much. There’s simply no such thing.

3. Take multiple mini-moons

Kiran and I only took a one-night honeymoon after we eloped in September, as he was starting a new job the next day. We jokingly called it our “mini-moon.” But then, a few weekends ago, Kiran decided that we needed an escape from everyday life in order to cultivate our romance.

So he booked a room at a Santa Monica hotel for one night. Sure, it was only 15 minutes from home, but it felt a world away with its ocean view, room service and complimentary bottle of champagne from the front desk clerk who loved us.

This gave us the idea of taking frequent “mini-moons” throughout your relationship. Why wait for your anniversary? You don’t need an excuse to get away from dishes, groceries and even kids for a night when you’re living a romance. It doesn’t have to cost a lot of money, either. You can always check into a cheap motel or even swap houses with couple friends who also need a break from their daily routine.

4. Handle with care

Okay, let’s get serious here. Even when you’re talking romance (and not relationship), there is some work involved. Kiran says, “Romances are strong, but they’re also very fragile. You need to nurture them.”

It’s critical to own your stuff. When you’re triggered by something your beloved says or does, rather than reacting from a hurt place — lashing out with criticisms, getting defensive — take a deep breath. Say, “I need a moment to clear my head” and take a short walk. Do what you need to do to respond from your heart, with tender loving care.

Also (note to self) mind the snippy little remarks that can sneak out when you’re hungry or tired. Treat your romance like the delicate rose that serves as its most celebrated symbol.

5. Practice devotion

Don’t just say it; do it. Put your beloved’s needs first: before your work, before your friends, before even your family of origin. Practice devotion to your romantic partner.

Every day, Kiran makes the deliberate choice to show me that I am his No. 1 priority. Even when stretched thin during a 14-hour film shoot, he still takes the time to text me, call me and let me know that he’s thinking of me. As a result, I never doubt his commitment to us and to our fine romance.

This devotion to one another is the container that keeps the relationship safe and secure. It is the vase containing the water that sustains the rose and revives it after its delicate petals have been bruised.

Kiran, Love of my Life, I adore you. I am blessed to be your wife. Thank you for the magic you bring into my life.

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If you asked me who my heroes are, my answer would be: my mother (the subject of a future blog post) and Alison Thompson. Whether responding to an earthquake in Haiti, a tsunami in SE Asia, or a terrorist attack here on US soil, Thompson selflessly devotes her life to serving those in need.

I had the good fortune to work with Thompson on compiling and editing her memoir about volunteering around the world, The Third Wave, which hits bookstores this week. However, I am writing this article for just one reason: because knowing Thompson has made me a better person.

Ten years ago on September 11, most New Yorkers fled lower Manhattan in horror as the first World Trade Center tower collapsed in a paroxysm of glass, metal and fire. Not Alison Thompson. The investment banker-turned-filmmaker feared that many of her friends, who had been working on the building’s top floors, were at that very moment fighting for their lives. “I had to help,” she recounted.

So Thompson strapped on her rollerblades and fought her way south from her apartment against an endless stream of shell-shocked refugees toward Ground Zero. There, she tore off her blades and dove, unmasked and unprotected, into the rubble to search for signs of life. The petite blonde-haired, blue-eyed young woman must have appeared as a hallucination to anyone who caught sight of her through the dusty haze: an angel descended to Earth.

Thompson remained volunteering at Ground Zero for the next nine months with the Red Cross, caretaking the rescue workers. The experience gave her “the volunteering bug.” She realized that service to others mattered more to her than any career objectives or personal goals.

Therefore when a massive tsunami hit Southeast Asia just three years later in December 2004, Thompson dropped everything to go help. Her boyfriend at the time, Oscar Gubernati, decided to join her. They quickly pulled together their meager savings, solicited donations of medical supplies and took off for Sri Lanka, where they wound up living for the next 14 months. Partnering with volunteers Donny Paterson of Australia and Bruce French of Colorado, they rebuilt the coastal village of Peraliya, including a school, hospital and shelters for hundreds of people.

In Sri Lanka, Thompson relentlessly combated corruption from international NGOs and death threats from disgruntled locals who accused her team of pocketing their aid money. She witnessed people at the edge of survival behaving cruelly towards one another and at one point “lost faith in humanity.” But in the end, laughing with local children or consoling a grieving mother always kept her going.

Thompson’s background makes her uniquely suited to a life of volunteer work. Born and raised “in the bush” of Australia by missionary parents, she spent her childhood traveling to remote areas of Asia. Moreover, she acquired valuable nursing credentials by working for years at her mother’s elderly hospital.

Nevertheless, leading the relief efforts in Peraliya taught Thompson that everyone who wants to help can, regardless of their training or expertise. She witnessed dozens of volunteers with “no skills” make a positive impact in Sri Lanka. “You don’t have to be a doctor or a construction worker to be of service after a crisis,” Thompson insisted. “Anyone can give a hug.”

Being a filmmaker, Thompson had brought a video camera with her to Sri Lanka. Upon returning to the US, she put together a documentary to inspire other people to volunteer. Sean Penn ended up choosing “The Third Wave” as his Presidential pick at the Cannes Film Festival in 2008. That’s why, when an earthquake devastated Port-au-Prince in January 2010, Penn reached out to Thompson first. He texted her just one word: “Haiti?”

Within 48 hours, Thompson had gathered an expert team of doctors, and Penn had solicited a major donation from Bosnian philanthropist Diana Jenkins. Donna Karan offered her private jet to fly Alison’s team from Manhattan to Miami. Penn’s political pull got them all safely into Port-au-Prince. Thompson then spent months helping Penn to establish the Jenkins/Penn Haiti Relief Organization, or J/P HRO, which manages one of the largest tent villages in the city.

Thompson has remained working in Haiti ever since. However, she has left Penn’s non-profit to run her own, called We Advance, which she co-founded with actress/activist Maria Bello and lawyer Aleda Frishman. The NGO’s vision is to advance the health, safety, and well being of Haitian women.

Winking, Thompson said, “Come to Haiti to help. You’ll lose weight, get a tan, make hundreds of new friends and save lives. You might even fall in love like I did.” Thompson met her new love, Albert Gomez of Miami, while volunteering in Port-au-Prince.

Here I’d like to add that I have done more than admire Thompson’s work from afar; I have been to Haiti and seen her in action. When she invited me to volunteer with her at J/P HRO shortly after the earthquake in March 2009, I leapt at the chance.

In Port-au-Prince, I walked with Thompson through the tent villages. Dozens of children pounced on her, calling, “Alison! Alison!” She greeted each one with a radiant smile. I also saw her put her expertise to work in the medical tent. There, Thompson slaved for hours on end, sweat drenching her shirt in the sweltering heat, with little concern for her own needs. She would go the entire day without eating or even taking a break to use the bathroom.

One night, as I sat at the picnic table in the volunteers’ living quarters eating dinner, Thompson came barreling in, eyes wet and face drawn. Her breath thin with urgency, she said, “We just delivered a dead baby. We’ve delivered over one hundred healthy babies since the quake, but this one was already dead.” I marveled that she could feel such depth of emotion after months of caring for people in dire circumstances.

On my last evening in Haiti, I asked Thompson to sit outside with me on the hillside overlooking the tent village. As we gazed up at the stars and listened to the sounds of song drifting across the warm breeze from the outdoor church just a few hundred meters away, I spoke of how my experience offering psychological counseling to the Haitians had changed my life in just one week.

I had broken up with my long-term on again/off again boyfriend, M, a few months prior to my trip, and I’d found myself slipping treacherously downward into a place of self-pity and fear. I was 37 and single, panicked about not having the family I so desired. I caught myself repeating the “What’s wrong with me?” soundtrack obsessively in my head.

Volunteering in Haiti had reminded me how very blessed I am, and had re-connected me to fundamental truths about life. Some of the people I’d counseled had shared soul-crushing stories of losing their entire families in the quake. But others just wanted to complain about how their boyfriends wouldn’t return their texts. We would laugh, and for a while the horrors around us would fade like dust motes into the dappled sunlight. We’re so human, I thought. So very fragile in our wants and needs: to connect, to feel validated, to survive.

One man came to me with a listless toddler in his arms. The medical personnel had found nothing wrong with the boy. They had given rehydrating fluids and advised him to get lots of sleep. But the father said that his child hadn’t spoken since the quake, when he’d watched his mother get crushed in their home.

“What can I do?” he begged of me, tears streaming down his face.

“Just love him. Praise him, keep close physical contact with him, and love him some more. Love him as much as you can, and surround him with other people who love him,” I said, my tears mirroring his.

When I reached out and embraced them both, I knew the profound truth of Alison Thompson’s message: Everyone can help because everyone can share a little tenderness, a smile, a hug.

What else are we here on this planet to do, in the end, but love and be loved?

Who wants to join me for a fun event with Intent.com’s Mallika Chopra and Yumi Sakugawa, and my favorite SF yoga teacher Stephanie Snyder?

I’m holding a contest for 8 of my readers to join me in Union Square, San Francisco on Sat, June 25 from 12:30-2pm for Sokenbicha Tea’s Seren-i-tea in the Square.

Our hectic days are consumed with jobs, loved-ones, everyday pressures and obligations. Often the last obligation we think about is the one we have to ourselves. This event will focus on yoga, meditation, and tea as tools to attaining personal and global well-being.

Aside from getting to hang out with ME (what more could you ask for? haha!), you will also get a sweet SWAG bag including: a t-shirt, Sokenbicha products, a yoga mat, a Manduka towel and a Yala PashBu scarf, and a $50 Whole Foods gift card.

Even if you aren’t a winner of the contest, you can still come to the event, which is free and open to the public.

Shoot me an email on my contact page or message me on Facebook with your email address to enter. Have a beautiful day!

Disclosure:

Sokenbicha partnered with bloggers such as me to participate in the Seren-i-Tea event as a VIP attendee. As part of the program, I received compensation. Sokenbicha believes that consumers and bloggers are free to form their own opinions and share them in their own words. Sokenbicha’s policies align with WOMMA Ethics Code, FTC guidelines and social media engagement recommendations.