I made a goal to send this out to you on Sunday mornings because maybe, like myself, you also like to get up early and read, putter around in Birkenstocks with coffee, water the plants, put on some romantic jazz like Stan Getz, and read pleasant human sections of the Sunday paper. Well, maybe not exactly like that.
In the early 90s, in my 20s, I lived in an old Victorian house in West Hartford, Connecticut, where the pale morning light shone through the dirty windows and overlooked the street where the cars rushed by. My roommate’s chippy little Pomeranian, Zoso, was still calm in the mornings; thankfully, he waited to tear through the bathroom trash, and we liked one another for a few hours.
Jazz danced through the speakers while I was in my pajamas, drank coffee, and smoked a cigarette, the newspaper strung about with only the stories of films, music, bestseller lists, and upcoming art exhibits. We were such young, clueless cats going to Club 880 where we’d listen to Jackie McLean, the only big name I can recall along with up-and-coming players. I faintly remember the charismatic owner, Al, who made it comfortable for everyone. We had no idea how cool this club was nor the efforts made by Al to support the Jazz scene with the legendary Don DePalma, who was the musical director and house band leader. All I knew was the students at Hartt School of Music thought it was the place to be, so I had to be there, too.
Perhaps that’s why I loved listening to jazz on Sunday mornings; it was part of the culture and pulse of that time of my life. I don’t listen to jazz anymore; wait a second, I will find some. I use the brilliance of Spotify and find a curated playlist of jazz classics with Etta James, Nina Simone, and Billie Holiday. It’s soulful, smoky, and smooth through my little phone speaker because it’s morning, and I don’t want anyone to wake up. This is my time. I realize these are all the tunes my 19-year-old daughter is currently obsessed with, and I wonder if jazz is enjoyed chiefly when young because of its chaotic cohesiveness.
As the piano sounds of Alice Coltrane tumbles into the ethers, I am drawn to find out the tune's name, “Turiya & Ramakrishna.” What in the world are these Hindu names doing with jazz? Digging into her bio, I learned she was a swami who studied with Swami Satchindananda and Sathya Sai Baba at the Vedantic Center in Los Angeles in the mid-1970s. Things are never what they seem. Not only was she married to John Coltrane, she was a deeply spiritual woman. It turns out that Turiya is derived from the Hindu philosophy of the atman, the soul beyond the states of consciousness. Ramakrishna was a Hindu mystic who proclaimed that all spiritual paths lead to the same realization of G-d. This gorgeous music can float the listener into Nirvana in another state of consciousness.
Remembering that music and mornings are a crucial part of life, I realize my routine has been focused on meditation, writing, oracle, and tarot cards connecting to my intuition. It has become so severe and focused. No doubt it has been working for me and strangely, I’m out of my comfort zone now, listening to jazz and writing instead of on the cushion connecting to my breath.
Morning routines are sacred to me, evolved from those jazz mornings to when I had the young children, the littles, in my house, and I could have some quiet time to read, journal, or meditate. I have a stack of books, magazines, spiral Yoobi notebooks with covers of child-like designs, which I order in bulk, and, of course, a plethora of colorful pens.
I’m behind on getting this newsletter out to you, the reader, the most crucial part of my writing on the other side of the screen, whom I don’t know well. I’ve met most of you at least once as I guided you in meditation in one place or another, and some are my dear friends and family. For me, you, my reader, will always be another human heart on the receiving end of my words.
My writing helps me figure out my purpose, from healing to understanding mental health, motherhood, and being a spiritual being in a body. I offer this as a safe space in hope, healing, and connection to those who are lost, confused on this parenting path, struggling spiritually, and longing for a deeper connection with the world around them. Or simply remembering that life is happening for us to enjoy, sending us messages that contribute to our reality.
I want to hear from you, and I realize I was wrong in limiting the comments to paid subscribers. I had forgotten that I had turned that on for paid subscribers and that is so limiting! I want to hear from you. I am so grateful for those who have upgraded to paid, as it is a warm hug of validation that what I’m doing matters. I struggle as a writer, like most writers, and I offer most of my work and guided meditations for free.
So, I split my time, back and forth between writing, participating in my writing group and communities, working extremely part-time at a digital marketing agency, leading in-person meditation at the spa, leading the web design for the non-profit I am a founder of, Family Alliance for Mental Health, pitching and writing to magazines, fellowships for mental health journalism, and looking for paid work. And I love it all.
I will still work to bring you the Sunday posting, however, I may miss a few weeks here and there.
I recently submitted a gut-wrenching personal piece on the relationship with my son and motherhood to “Modern Love” in the NYT, which is a massive reach for me, and I am working on a piece on spiritual parenting for “The Rumpus” where Cheryl Strayed got her start. I’m also working on publishing a piece with an editor from the publication “Esoterica” by Leah Eichler whose writing I deeply connect with.
I am excited to share that I hit one goal recently - making it into the 50-year-old literary magazine, “The Sun” where I wrote about growing up going to my Dad’s Boston store where I learned impressionable life lessons.
Uniforms - My piece is at the bottom of this section of “The Sun.”
Podcast Updates
I am still committed to producing a podcast once a month as I love interviewing interesting people. This one is being recorded next week!
Past episodes can be heard here.
Thanks for being here and if you like any part of what you read, or have questions, leave a comment!
Here’s a post from a year ago already! Time is flying.
Sweet memory, Karen. Music is one of the best things in life. Enjoy the new discoveries! 💙🎼
I love this piece so very much, what a wonderful expression on the some of the tiny, beautiful things in life that are available to us every day.