A Noted Spiritual Teacher is Here to Tell You How To Get Happier!!

By Judith England

Stop for a minute and ask yourself a simple question: what makes you happy? If you're like most people, you will realize right away that it isn't things. It's the people you love. It's the special places you go. It's the wonderful but fleeting experiences of life itself.

But much of the time we act as though it is stuff that makes us happy.

We live in a culture that loves more. More money, more stuff, more trips to the mall. More stimuli, more speed, more of everything! We move so quickly from one experience to the next, never in the present moment. It seldom seems to be enough.

It seldom seems to make us happy.

Sharon Salzberg, a New York Times best-selling author and one of the nation's leading spiritual teachers, has devoted years of thought to this and other questions. On Sunday, September 25th, she is coming to Albany to give a free lecture on the subject "Real Happiness," also the title of her new book. The lecture, which begins at 5:30 p.m., will be held at the First Unitarian Universalist Society of Albany, 405 Washington Ave., Albany. Salzberg will explain the benefits of meditation and answer questions. The event is free, but donations are welcome.

For more information, go to http://www.sharonsalzberg.com/event/1835.

In Real Happiness: The Power of Meditation, Salzberg offers a simple and workable recipe for finding peace of mind. She gives an antidote for the illness of "more," a step-by-step meditation practice and a challenge: Try it for five minutes a day, for 28 days. After that, you'll be hooked! Why? Because it doesn't take long to feel the benefits of stopping and breathing. It takes no time at all to realize that a daily meditation practice deeply enhances one's quality of life and living, regardless of what that life might look like.

As Salzberg writes: "We might not be able to change the circumstances of our lives, but we can change our relationship to those circumstances."

Here are some thoughts Salzberg shared during an interview for the Times Union's Holistic Health Blog:

Q: How would you respond to people who considers themselves too busy to "just sit" and meditate?

A: I find that reaction very interesting. I often say that if most of us were told, "Here's this activity you can do 20 minutes a day and it will really help your friend," most of us would jump at the chance. But framed as "It will really help you," suddenly we are too busy; it seems selfish, not worth doing. I'd say start with just 5 minutes of formal practice each day, and add a few fun things -- like not answering your phone on the first ring, but letting it ring 3 times, and breathing; have one cup of tea or coffee a day without multi-tasking at the same time -- no checking email, having a conversation, listening to the news at the same time. These things really are fun when put into practice.

Q: In your new book, you speak about the life events that led you to explore meditation. In all your years of personal practice as well as teaching, what are some common threads that trigger a person to try meditating?

A: Very often, as in my case, some kind of unhappiness or discontent leads one to explore meditation. Sometimes it is an intense curiosity about life, a wish to live not just on the surface of things that brings one to that exploration. And these days, with so much research going on, often people are motivated by seeking better health, less stress and real help with all kinds of concerns, including ADHD, addiction, and a long list of conditions people find limiting or depleting.

Q: If meditation is about simply "being with" all that we are -- sensation, thought, emotion -- wouldn't it promote a sort of passive acceptance of our life, rather than an invitation to grow and change?

A: I think that's the common misperception, and it is easy to see why -- the words we tend to use to describe meditation can well imply passivity, but it's not what actually happens. If we learn to simply be with our experience, that's the beginning of the process of insight. If we are struggling against our emotions, our bodies, there's not a lot of learning that can happen. If we are overcome and defined by all of our changing states, there's not a lot of learning that can happen. As we learn to be with all of our experience, we are creating the space we need to make choices out of clarity and wisdom.

To close our chat, I asked Salzberg to share a favorite quote. Her response: "The door of possibility has been opened -- the door to authentic and accessible happiness. Welcome. Come in and sit."

Writer Judith England, who writes the Holistic Health blog for the Times Union, is a certified Kripalu yoga instructor and a massage therapist. This article appeared first in the Times Union. Read more about Salzberg's book, "Lovingkindness," on the Huffington Post.

A Sister, Remembering Her Little Brother

By Judith England

I’ve heard it said that the relationship between siblings is the closest one – at least in terms of genetics. Same parents contributing to the mix that finally turns out to be a child.

And yet, no matter how close two people are in the genetic code – they still need to be discovered, and rediscovered - and always remain part mystery.

What I know about Lon is my memories of him:

The surprise new baby in the house with two grown (or almost grown) children.

The inventor of words that became part of our family’s secret vocabulary. Things like “lily” for typewriter, “keenie” for pencil, “hooie” for coffee.

The annoying little brother who’s first question to my dates would be :”Do you have a vacuum cleaner?” If the answer was “Yes”, this allowed him the next question: “What kind is it?”

I remember the day I got married, September 17, 1966, Lon was just five. The house was in turmoil with bridesmaids, and photographers, and hair and makeup. Where was Lon? Sitting on his bed reading a book, looking like an angel in his little Eton suit. Mom was giving him the old “hurry up” and he wasn’t having any of it. Never lifting his eyes from the page he dismissed her saying:” I’ve GOT to finish this!”

That was Lon - always a different drummer.

There were longer periods without Lon around as I got involved with work, and a home and new husband. Lon got older. And despite the 16-year difference in our ages, we got closer.

As he grew from a teenager to a college student there was a strong connection. We shared a love of music, arts, good food, bad jokes, cheesy grade-B movies and the puzzling questions of the world and life. There were many visits that found us to be the last two people awake in the house, well past midnight, talking about things deep and dark and inscrutable.

I remember, too, noticing that at the same time we were strengthening our connection, there was something hidden and troubling inside him. The pull of closeness was matched by another pull, moving him further away. Was it sadness? was it distress? - I had no words for it – just that unsettled feeling.

Lon lived with me for a couple of years while he was finishing up at SUNY in Albany. We had some good times then, I even became his official barber, trimming his hair in the backyard. My boys loved him.

I watched him start his life as a husband and father. He took amazing pictures of his children – ones that could only be taken with the eye of someone who loved them truly and never stopped viewing their lives as a miracle.

There was an outstanding family cruise – probably one of Mom’s last major trips before her health failed. Dad thought it was important that we all get together to share the adventure – and he was right. We laughed – a lot.

But the darkness kept coming back for Lon. It was as if there was a gulf between us, one that got wider and wider until I couldn’t reach across it any more.

It’s really hard for me to say “goodbye” to Lon. It seems like just the other day he was a little boy, a college student, and a young father. But I have to remember that everything has a beginning – a middle – and an end. Our lives are no exception.

I hope that Lon has found peace now. I’m grateful that he was my brother, and will try to keep alive in my memory all the best parts. But what I hold most dear is the gift of Suzanne and their wondrous children in my life.

I promise to do my best to keep them close, and to be a sturdy support on which they can always depend.

Writer Judith England, a massage therapist and certified yoga instructor, writes the Holistic Health blog for the Albany Times Union. Her brother, Lon C. England, passed away this past summer.

Bonny & Justine: From the Backyard to the Big Competition in Texas!!

By Bonny Curless

It’s hard to describe the way I feel when I am riding my horse, Justine.

One word comes to mind: FREEDOM. Freedom from all the stress and strain that life sends our way. Freedom too, to be exactly who I really am.

I’ve had Justine – she’s a Morgan horse – for 15 years, ever since she was a six-month-old filly. Over the years, we’ve developed a partnership and bond that is incredibly powerful. We are mentally, physically and emotionally connected, and sometimes when I’m riding her, it feels as if we are one.

Justine gives me her strength of body and spirit to carry us wherever “we” want to go. We love to explore the world around us as we travel up and down hills, through meadows, across water and bridges. The flow and movement of her body as we traverse the undulating ground together is medicine to my soul. The sky is the only limit when we are together. We feel we can go anywhere and be free!

I have been passionate about horses for as long as I can remember. I am a third- generation horse-crazed female. It all started with my grandmother. And then it hit my mother. And now it’s me. I have had many wonderful opportunities to learn from and play with many different horses in my life – horses of all types, styles, sizes and personalities! Yes, horses have personalities just like people!

I began studying Parelli Natural Horsemanship in 1999 when I realized that my horse partner Justine needed ME to become a better leader for her and so I began the journey of becoming a better horseman. Currently, I am a Level 4 student in the Parelli Natural Horsemanship program.

I also joined ACTHA (American Competitive Trail Horse Association) in the beginning of this year in order to honor “Justine” for her patience in teaching me to become a better horseman. Justine’s favorite thing to do is go on a trail ride! Little did we know that would end us up competing in AFTHA’s reality TV show in Texas!!

Back in April, ACTHA held auditions across the country looking for finalists for the reality television show, "America's Favorite Trail Horse." More than nine hundred contestants tried out for the finals and of that group, 100 horse and rider teams were selected to attend the finals at Franklin Family Ranch in Austin, Texas.

JUSTINE AND I were chosen as one of the 100 horse and rider teams
to attend the finals!! Can you IMAGINE how excited we are? Please remember -- I am just a small town girl riding her backyard horse having fun!

The trip to Texas for the final competition was an experience of a lifetime. I had only nine days to prepare and pack for horse and human to go on the trip (of course I was working my 9-5 job seven of those days). The trip itself took a total of nine days -- three days traveling 2,000 miles to Texas, three days "competing," and then another three days traveling 2,000 miles back home to New York!

Whew! What a whirlwind of a trip! But, the GREATEST thing is that the relationship between Justine and I just got even better and stronger! She trusted my leadership in everything I asked of her and she stayed happy and healthy the whole trip! Sooooo coool!

Justine and I will be in episode #11, scheduled to air on November 22nd. Our number is 225.

Here is the promo that the American Morgan Horse Association wrote up for our episode:

"Justine" and her rider, Bonny Curless, have been together since Justine was only six months old. Now, 15 years later, Bonny says that Justine’s greatest talent has been helping her to become a better horsewoman. ‘She is the greatest teacher I’ve ever had and she’s made me a much better person,’ Bonny says. Both have lived their entire lives in their hometown of East Berne, New York.

Viewers will have the ability to vote for their favorite trail horse at www.actha.us after each episode and $5,000 will be awarded to each episode winner. Voting will open for 48 hours after each episode has been aired. The finale will feature all of the episode winners and will award $50,000 to the top three horses of the entire series.

ACTHA's mission is to showcase the wonderful attributes of the great American trail horse, granting these horses the recognition that they so richly deserve. ACTHA also maintains a registry open to all breeds and has a point designation system assigned to each horse for its lifetime. The registry adds to the horses’ value and distinction. The group also promotes the humane treatment of horses.

Justine and I invite you to watch the series and we thank you for any support you can give us.

It has taken me almost 12 years, but I have also begun a journey toward becoming an Instructor in the Parelli Natural Horsemanship program. If Justine and I lucky enough to end up as finalists in AFTHA’s reality TV show, the money will be used so I too can “help make a better world for both humans and horses.” (Pat Parelli)

This has been the most incredible journey!

Seeing Red is Now an EBOOK!!

Bookshelves -- you remember them, don't you?

They stood about four feet high. They were made out of wood, or metal, and we used to put those old-fashioned things we call paper books side by side on them?

Well, according to an article in The Economist this week, bookshelves are on the way out. According to the magazine, furniture giant IKEA is "promoting glass doors for its bookshelves." Why?

Simple. "The firm reckons customers will increasingly use [bookshelves] for ornaments, tchotchkes and the odd coffee-table tome—anything, that is, except books..."

Nobody really expected the electronic book business to boom as fast as it has. But it turns out that the publishing and bookselling businesses are largely in the same boat as newspapers, that is, they are swimming upstream against an electronic tsunami!

According to The Economist, sales of e-books in the first five months of 2011 exceeded sales of adult hardcover books.

"Amazon now sells more copies of e-books than paper books," according to the magazine.

And obviously, bookstores are taking it on the chin. "The drift to digits will speed up as bookshops close. Borders, once a retail behemoth, is liquidating all of its American stores."

So, well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize we authors better step up to the ebook plate. I spent this past summer getting Seeing Red into ebook form, and it is now available on all electronic book readers. So Kindle holders, and Ipad readers, and Nook-ites, you can now purchase a copy of the novel.

Meanwhile, I've just had a wonderful reader contact me from Sweden to say how much she enjoyed reading Seeing Red. Dorothy Stage, who lives in Molnlycke, Sweden, a short distance from Gothenburg, emailed to say:

“I have finished reading Seeing Red as part of my summer reading. It´s a book that I couldn´t put down until the end. As always, I love your fantastic use of color, especially when the describing beautiful scenes in Spain. The characters are very strongly portrayed. It’s almost like the reader knows them as individuals. I´m glad that the book had a happy ending. It was a wonderful read filled with many of the people and things dear to your heart. I felt closer to you after reading the book. Please, do write many more!"

If you enjoyed Seeing Red, as so many of you have -- here are more reader reactions -- I hope you will tell your friends, and let them know they can now buy the electronic version!

Lifting Hope Out of Horror -- on that day!!

This article also appears today on the Huffington Post.

By Claudia Ricci

This is a story about nightmares and dreams come true.

This is a story about how life can be filled with sadness and disappointment, and sometimes, bad things -- things that are so bad that the word "evil" doesn't even begin to describe the horror.

But this is also a story about how out of the bad and sad and disappointing things, and yes, even the evil and horrible things, we can find goodness and happiness and fulfillment in helping others.

Like many stories, this one begins at different times and places.

It certainly can begin in New York City on September 11, 2001, when life in America was ripped free of its bearings. A day all of us can still see ten years later, so clearly. We close our eyes and we recall with great pain, the silver glint of airplanes, the cornflower blue of the clear September sky, the roaring orange flames, the billowing black smoke and shattered glass, the people injured, killed and running, the two gargantuan towers collapsing into crowded streets.

It also begins a week later, when a remarkable pre-school teacher in Great Barrington, MA, sitting quietly in religious services, heard something.

"It was like the top of my head was lifting off," recalls Andrea Patel. "Suddenly, words began to pour into my head, words with cadence, words with page turns, words that swam around and around and around inside of me."

Andrea -- who had never written a book before -- went home and wrote the words down. And then she put them away. A couple of weeks later, she found them again. She showed them to a writer friend, who was deeply moved. The writer friend told her that she had to do something with the words.

But what?

Soon the words were calling to her again. Soon the words were swimming faster in her head. But this time they were accompanies by illustrations. Like the words, the illustrations demanded to be expressed on paper. In simple form. "I needed to try to begin to make sense again of the world at the most basic level with a pre-schooler's understanding," Andrea says.

Within days, Andrea found herself busy shredding pieces of colorful tissue paper. She refused to use scissors or any other objecct that could be construed as a weapon. While her pre-schoolers were napping on their mats, she ripped tiny pieces of tissue by hand and began to construct her illustrations.

Before long, she had a book. A book she referred to at that point, simply as "September 11th." The book was missing only one illustration, however. An illustration of the World Trade Center tragedy, the twin towers collapsing in flame.

Andrea says that she couldn't bring herself to do that terribly upsetting illustration in the presence of her three-year old students. So one Saturday afternoon, sitting with a box of Kleenex, she sat down at home and using a straight edge, constructed an image of the two towers in flames.

Before we go forward with Andrea's story, we need to take a little detour in order to tell another story. A few years before Andrea wrote and illustrated her book, I finished writing my first novel, called Dreaming Maples. Two different New York literary agents loved the book. Each one, at different points, was convinced she could sell the book to a publisher. Each one tried, sending out dozens and dozens of letters, but alas, neither succeeded.

I took so many rejections on that first novel that I thought I would fall apart. But at some point in 2001, I decided what the heck, maybe I will just go ahead and publish it myself. At the time self-publishing wasn't nearly as popular as it is today. There weren't dozens of self-publishing companies out there ready to snatch up your manuscript. I decided to start my own small publishing company to get my novel into print.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was driving up to Williamstown, MA to meet my cousin, an artist and painter named Pat Rotondo. She had very generously offered to do a painting for the book's cover. When I left my house about 9:45 a.m., the second tower had just fallen, and I was bawling. When I pulled into the parking lot at the Clark Art Institute at 11 a.m., my cousin was sitting calmly on a bench in front of the museum, waiting for me. She was smiling.  She hadn't heard the gut-wrenching news about what was happening to New York City, where she had lived and gone to art school.

As the fires raged in New York and Washington, D.C., my cousin and I walked around the Clark in a state of shock. We kept asking what everyone else was asking, how is that humans are capable of such horror? And yet, staring at the paintings, we had the images of human wonder before our eyes too. At one point we stood before a Renoir painting called "The Blonde Bather," where a key scene in my novel takes place.

Later that day, in the parking lot of the Clark, my cousin took from her car the painting she had done for the cover of my book. More tears poured, as I stared at one of the most beautiful and haunting images I'd ever seen. That day the dream of my publishing company, Star Root Press, started to seem real.

Not too long afterward, Andrea's story and my own started to converge. It was a Saturday in November, the weekend before Thanksgiving, when she phoned me at home. Andrea and I belong to the same synagogue in Great Barrington and the rabbi there had suggested Andrea call me. "Rabbi Zecher said that you'd started a publishing company," Andrea said.

I laughed. "Yeah, well, I have, but I wouldn't call myself Random House." She asked if I'd look at the children's book she'd written about September 11th. I told her I would, but I hardly expected to do more than that. The next day, in temple, she handed me a box with the illustrations and writing inside. By the time I reached the last page, I was wiping my eyes and shaking my head in amazement.

I knew what I had to do. I told Andrea that I wanted to publish it. And if it were humanly possible, I said we would have the book out in time for the Christmas holidays -- which was a month later.

Miraculously enough, we did it. The next three weeks were crazy. Andrea and I worked harder than we'd ever worked before. And we found people to help us. People worked miracles for us. People worked miracles for on that day. There was the photographer, Mark Schmidt, who photographed the book's illustrations in a matter of days. There was the graphic artist, Bonny Curless, who spent 18 hours one weekend designing and typesetting the book.

And then there was the printer, Michael Ryan, who bumped press schedules and drove final proofs 80 miles round-trip to my house so that we could make our scheduled publication release date the week before Christmas.

Because of all this, Andrea and I were able to drive 450 copies of the book, hot off the press, to New York on Christmas Eve day. We donated the books to the American Red Cross Disaster Relief Services, where volunteers brought them immediately to the big white tent at Ground Zero, and to the three family service centers in Manhattan where families of the victims were receiving assistance. Part of our plan included donating a portion of all book sales to a scholarship fund set up for the children of September 11th victims.

Within six months we had sold nearly 3,000 copies of the book. Moreover, early in 2002 we learned that PBS' Reading Rainbow had selected the book for review and promotion. The nationally-televised book show for children had praised on that day for its uplifting and redeeming message about the tragedy, which suggests to children (and adults) that “sometimes bad things happen in the world. But there will always be good things in the world too. You are one of those good things.”

In conjunction with the Reading Rainbow promotion, which was aired in different television markets across the nation, a major West Coast publisher acquired the rights to produce a hardcover version of the book.

Ten years later, that hardcover version is still for sale on Amazon.com. The simple message of Andrea Patel's book continues to move people. Continues to offer hope. As on that day suggests, despite the bad things that happen in the world, each of us can always do something to make the world a better place.

"You can help by sharing. You can help by playing and laughing. You can help by taking good care of the Earth. You can help by being kind to people. Yes. Whether you're three years old, or thirteen years old, or thirty years old, or one-hundred-and-three years old, you can help."

Meanwhile, in April, 2002, I published my first novel, Dreaming Maples. In part because of all the attention Star Root Press attracted because of on that day, sales were brisk and the book did very well.

"AMPS (Amputees) Just Wannna Have FUN!!" Watch the Video!!

By Tyler Carter

When I was a year old, I had my right leg amputated below the knee due to a birth defect called fibular hemimelia. Ever since my amputation, I have tried to live my life the best I can. I ski, play, tennis, skateboard, and participate in all kinds of other physical activities. I don't let anything get in my way. Though I participate in many different sports, my favorite and most important is alpine ski racing. I am very serious about it and I am currently training hard for the 2014 Paralympics in Sochi, Russia.

I also have a passion for film. It started about three years ago with a film that I made of my travels to Park City, Utah for some ski races. Looking back on it, I guess the film was pretty bad. But hey, it was my first video. It featured footage that my dad and I had shot, with pictures, and music to go along with it. From that video, I refined my skills and I have made many more. But they were all the same thing. Different place, different stuff but the same idea.

So recently, I started thinking and I decided that I needed to strike out in a new direction and do something different. A music video! But I didn't know what to do. Then I heard "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" on the radio. I thought about it for a while and then it hit me: what about "Amps Just Want to Have Fun?"

That idea snowballed into the music video you see here. I wrote the lyrics and knew I had something good.

I had two main reasons for making the video. The first was that I just wanted to try and do something that I had never done. I wanted to make something that was huge, bigger than any of my other videos. The second reason was that I wanted to show people that amputees and anyone else with a disability can do anything that they want to, as long as they put their minds to it and give their best. I have seen individuals with disabilities do amazing things -- things that people without disabilities can do, and more. I just wanted to show it all on film.

As for future films, I don't want to give too much away but yes I do have some things planned for the future. I intend my next music video to be as good as "Amps Just Want to Have Fun."

This is not my last music video. Far from it.

Tyler Carter, a senior at Brandywine Heights High School, lives in Topton, Pennsylvania. His website can be found at http://tcski.weebly.com/. He is training for the 2014 Paralympics with the Adaptive Ski Foundation in Windham, N.Y.

Teaching Yoga to Any Body, Including Amputees!!

By Jo Kirsch

“You’re not going to catch me trying to wrap my foot around my head.”

“Yoga? No way. I don’t bend like that.”

“Me? Do yoga? You’ve got to be kidding.”

These are some typical comments people make when presented with the opportunity to practice yoga. However, in the last few years people of varying ages, abilities and disabilities seem to be more receptive to the idea.

“Adaptive yoga or just yoga is awesome,” said Tyler Carter, a 17-year-old alpine ski racer who is a below-the-knee amputee. “I was a little skeptical at first but love it now. It is calming, relaxing, and a great way to end the day.”

It is this quality of relaxation that not only attracts people to yoga, but turns them into long-term beneficiaries.

“The stress release and calming effect are the biggest benefits,” said Adaptive Sports Foundation (ASF) Race Team member John Eckbold, a mono-skier born with spina bifida. “I feel some physical improvement, but the mental aspect is what I notice the most.”

Many people are motivated to try yoga for physical reasons. They hope that practicing yoga will relieve body pain, increase flexibility and improve strength. Most, however, come to find the mental and emotional benefits equal to or greater than the physical benefits.

“Adaptive Yoga has impacted my recovery tremendously by increasing my strength, balance, flexibility and pain tolerance,” said SFC Diane Cochran, US Army Retired. Diane sustained a spinal cord injury while serving in Afghanistan. She regularly attends women’s and summer events for wounded warriors at ASF. “When I do yoga I find myself doing things like walking down a hill instead of using my wheelchair. As an added benefit, I find that I am more focused and at peace,” said Diane.

Last winter, Tyler and John both attended an ASF race camp for alpine skiers with disabilities. At the end of each day, a mat or chair yoga class was held for participants.

“It was a little challenging at first trying to adapt and adjust some of the poses, but once we did, it felt really good,” said Tyler. “I think adaptive yoga provides people with disabilities a sense of accomplishment, a feeling that they can do whatever they want and that no one can hold them back.”

Determining what type of yoga to teach a group of individuals with physical and cognitive disabilities can be challenging. At ASF we teach a combination of breathing techniques, yoga postures and a deeply rejuvenating practice called Yoga Nidra, which means focused sleep. Yoga Nidra is a guided relaxation practice where the body and the mind relax at a very deep level and healing and destress occur.

After one of these sessions at ASF, Russell Dean, MS, LMHC, said “I haven’t felt that relaxed and pain free since the last time I had anesthesia.” Russ, a Vietnam veteran with back injuries, is the Wounded Warrior Project’s Manager of Project Odyssey, a health and wellness program for Iraq and Afghanistan veterans with PTSD.

To insure success, a yoga teacher must evaluate her students and determine what combination, type and level of yoga practice is appropriate. What are the student’s abilities and disabilities? What are the students’ goals? Flexibility and injury-avoidance? Strength? Focus? Relaxation? Centering? Stress-relief? The goal is to introduce practices that individuals can incorporate into their lives on an on-going basis.

Whether a yoga class is geared towards able bodied or disabled students, adaptability is key. By learning to pay attention to your body and mind, a practitioner learns when and how to adapt to poses. With proper alignment and mindful attention, you will experience increased levels of energy and feelings.

The key to all of this is the creation of a set of tools you can access to bring not only your physical being into balance, but your life into balance as well.

For example, when you pay attention to your breath, whether in a yoga class or while going about your day, you tune into your state of being in that moment. Quick, uneven, short breaths often indicate high levels of anxiety or stress. The general yoga instruction is to practice a slow even breath: a long inhale followed by a long exhale. This practice generally increases calmness and reduces anxiety and stress levels on and off the mat.

“By utilizing the relaxation and breathing techniques I’ve learned at ASF I have been able to gain more control over my anxiety and stress,” said Matt Bonchi, SSG US Army Reserve. Matt was injured by a Vehicle borne Improvised Explosive Device (IED) in June 2006 and again in January 2007. “Since the first Warriors in Motion event I attended at ASF, I have been able to use these techniques to relax and get a full eight hours of sleep, without medication, for the first time since 2006.”

Everyone experiences ups and downs in life. How we deal with these changes defines our state of being. Yet it is not only how we deal with these experiences but how we interact with them and learn from them. By cultivating awareness of yourself and paying attention to your thoughts and feelings, you learn to listen to and trust your intuition.

The fast pace of life and the stresses we endure often keep us from taking the time to slow down, tune in and listen. So often we are defined by what we do, our jobs, our abilities and our disabilities. We allow those external things to define us and we lose track of who we are. By practicing yoga – postures, breathing and meditation – we give ourselves the chance to slow down, pause, and take a moment to feel what is going on inside and get back in touch with who we are. By practicing yoga we can just be.

Jo Kirsch is a Registered Yoga Teacher (RYT) who has met 500 hour standards; a certified Professional Ski Instructor; and the Marketing and Development Director for the Adaptive Sports Foundation, based in Wyndham, New York. This piece appears on ASF's blog.

SUSAN RESPONDS: The Journey We Take Together -- Part Six

By Susan Prisant

I never thought the Walls of Jericho would come tumbling down. Sandy seemed so invincible. He was very successful professionally. He was always sure of himself and he attracted people like bees to honey. He took care of me as if I was a princess and made me laugh with astonishment at his antics.

We had an appointment to see Eddie, his cardiologist. I remember kissing Dr. Anderson hello. Sandy went into the cath lab for an angiogram. He needed two stents. It was decided that they would do one of then and the other a week later. Over the weekend in between we went hiking with the family, not having a care in the world.

When we returned for the next appointment, Sandy Coplon, the wife of our nephrologist, came to sit with me. It didn’t seem strange, as they are friends and we were staying at their house.

I had no idea that the walls were starting to crack. He was in surgery, and time was passing. "Last time we came, he was done by now," I was thinking to myself. More time passed. Now I was saying to my friend Sandy: “Something is wrong.” I started pacing back and forth, thinking, ‘Eddie, Eddie.’

The door opened. Eddie came out and held me. He said, “Susan, Sandy has to have an emergency bypass; I’ll take you to him to kiss him good-bye.”

The Walls of Jericho came tumbling down. I walked over to Sandy like nothing was wrong. I kissed him and said, “I’ll see you in a while.” They wheeled him away and I practically collapsed to the floor.

Thank God, Sandy Coplon was there. I called my brother-in-law with the news. He came to the hospital. We all went outside. In the garden I smoked what felt like 100 cigarettes. The waiting was so hard. My mind was running. It’s not fair; how could Sandy die? I can’t live without my partner, my best friend. No one could console me. It was too scary for all of us.

Seven hours passed. Then I saw Eddie walking over to me. His face didn’t show signs of grief.

“He’s okay, Susan.” We held each other tightly. No other words were necessary.

And my mind shouted, "He’s alive! He’s alive!”


It was another two hours before I could see him in the ICU. I will never ever forget what I saw. He had a large plastic breathing tube coming out of his mouth and he was connected to so many monitors that you couldn’t even get close to him. I wanted to hold him. I needed to hold him. I wanted him to know that we’d made it. But he was still under deep anesthesia; so I just sat down and stared at his face.

After a while, the curtain opened and there stood Norman—Sandy’s friend and nephrologist for 20 years. He walked slowly, his eyes fully attentive. He ever so lightly picked up Sandy’s wrist to take his pulse, as he had a thousand times before. Tears were swelling in his eyes and his thoughts were far off. When he came back to earth and saw me, he gave me a bear hug in a way only Norman could. “We’ll see you later back at the house,” Dr. Coplon said and left us.

It was another two hours before my best friend opened his eyes with a quick flash of surprise. The clock on the wall faced him.

It was nearly 6pm. I could see his brain calculating that over nine hours had passed since I’d kissed him good-bye. He then took in all the monitors and the blue tentacle snaking down his throat. He pointed at it vigorously -- he wanted it out. I called the nurse, who explained that it was too soon to remove anything. Naturally, Sandy wasn’t going to let this decision lie.

He was pointing more vigorously now, looking to me to do something. The nurse interrupted this manic behavior between the two of us.

“If you can write down what you want…” she said and brought back a large pad. She didn’t know Sandy had only five words for her. He took the pad and wrote in large letters: “Take this fucking thing out!” as he pointed vigorously at the breathing tube.

The nurse read the note, stood there laughing, then pulled the privacy curtain open and yelled out so everyone in ICU could hear, “I have a live one here.”

Susan Prisant is a Florida-based writer who is composing a series of articles called "The Journey We Take Together." This piece is a direct response to a piece by her husband, Sandy Prisant, who is awaiting a heart and kidney transplant.

The Journey We Take Alone? -- Part 14

By Alexander "Sandy" Prisant

You start coming out from under the deep anesthesia. First your eyes start to open. They work. Then you haphazardly try to move an arm, your head, and your lips to speak. And none of that works at all.

You’re strapped in and breathing through a machine and taped up 32 ways against Tuesday. So you go back to your eyes, which work. Mounted over the foot of the bed is a clock. Those big, easy-to-read hospital clocks. You’re a little dopey, but you slowly realize it says three minutes to six. The last time you were conscious, you think, was about 8:45 in the morning.

What??

Now you’re not dopey; you’re stunned and scared and reflexively lurch to get up. But all the medical machinery holding you down keeps you down.

And for some reason there is no pain at all, even though you are already suspecting you’ve been filleted like a flounder.

You look along the bed rails and see two comforting faces in the antiseptic intensive care unit—my wife Susan and a Stanford nephrologist friend with tears in his eyes, Dr Norm Coplon. Norm was there to fight for every one of my organs for three decades. They were waiting to welcome me back to life. It was Palo Alto, California, 1995.

This is what happens when you have a Coronary Arterial Bypass Graft, known in the trade by its acronym: CABG. Veins have been sliced from other parts of our body to replace clogged ones serving the heart. Inside me, they had to replace three of the five major ones. So it was a triple CABG.

Usually there is a build up of disease over weeks or months or years, leading to a smooth, well-planned surgery. For me it’s almost never been like that. I was innocently going for an angiogram to see how my own heart vessels were doing. I was relaxed, in the hands of one of America’s leading cardiologists. I’m in awe of him as a physician, but I love him even more as a human being.

Dr Edward T. Anderson is a rock, an Ivy League/California star who has saved my life more than once. But first of all, he’s a damn good friend, a man we all just call “Eddie”.

Seconds after Eddie put me under sedation for the angiogram, he realized that a vessel he stented a week before had begun to unravel—actually shred.

Now there was no time for strategy—just action. From the cath lab, Eddie phoned upstairs to his sidekick, the nationally-recognized cardiovascular surgeon Vince Gaudiani.

Thank God. Twice. Vince was there. And the phone was free.

And that’s how a procedure that only has become the norm in our generation was done for me: On exactly five minutes notice. Across six hours. Three times over.

While I was oblivious to all this, my wife and family spent a mortifying day, in agony. It’s the way these things work. Dr Coplon’s wife sat numbly with Susan for all those hours. Once again, the patient suffered least. Once again we learned that sometimes medicine works.

There are those who’d also say once again it just wasn’t my time yet. And they were right. Vince and Eddie joined the band of saviors, back to my birth, who refused to give up on me.

Not all doctors are like that. So choose your specialists carefully. Judge them as people as well as physicians. Some day your life will probably depend on them.

My brother, a healthcare executive, tells me that they say in the industry that God gives us about 50 good years; after that we’re on your own.

That triple CABG jumped up and bit me in my fiftieth year. The decade and a half since have brought one challenge after another.

Writer Sandy Prisant, who lives in Boynton Beach, Florida, is awaiting a kidney and heart transplant. His series of articles about his lifelong struggle with a congenital kidney ailment -- called "The Journey We Take Alone?" -- began appearing in MyStoryLives in March. Meanwhile, his wife Susan is writing a series called "The Journey We Take Together." Stay tuned for Susan's next piece, which tells the story in this post from her point of view. To find earlier installments in both series, go to the Search function on this blog and type in their last names. To be notified when new installments appear, become a Subscriber by sending us your email.

Don't Tax the Rich, Take it From Poor People!!

There's only one way to solve the nation's budget deficit.

Take all the money from the nation's poor people!

If you haven't seen comedian Jon Stewart's segment on taxing the poor, in order to close the budget deficit, it is absolutely worth your time.

It's hilarious and right on the money, the poor people's money!

Instead of taxing the rich, Stewart says he has a better idea: we should just take half of all the money that poor people have.

"The government could raise $700 billion by either taking half of everything earned by the bottom 50% or by raising the marginal tax rate on the top two percent," according to the Daily Show's promo.

Raising the income tax rate on the top 2 percent of Americans would raise an estimated $700 billion over ten years. But Stewart points out that taking HALF of what the bottom 50 percent of Americans make would raise the same amount.

"WE NEED TO TAKE ALL OF WHAT THE BOTTOM 50 PERCENT HAVE," Stewart says. "It's the only way to make a significant dent."

Don't worry about the poor, Stewart says. Poor people are defined as a family of four making $22,350. Quoting Fox News, Stewart says 99 % of the poor have refrigerators.

"You FOOD-CHILLING mother_____!" Stewart says.

As Stewart tells his audience, the "free ride for the poor" is over.

Thank you, Jon Stewart, for making us laugh at a time when we might otherwise cry.