To be Remembered...

This week, we're writing about our legacies - or how we want to be remembered when we pass.

        What type of mark do we want to leave on this Earth?


When we read The Alchemist, we discussed the idea of having a Personal Legend - that our lives have an underlying purpose and meaning that is greater than our surface needs, wants, and desires.  It's the idea that each of us have a special path, and when we dedicate our lives to that path, we will live the most fulfilling and joyous experience possible.  Coelho writes that when we're on the path of our Personal Legends, the universe will provide.  The path keeps unfolding.

Life keeps emerging in newer and brighter ways.

It took me half of a lifetime to really understand and develop - to feel out - what my Personal Legend is all about.  During and after college, I struggled to identify what kind of life I wanted for myself.

But now that my Personal Legend is becoming more clear, I see that it's been present in my path all along.  It's been sprinkled across all of my experiences.  And when I was most aligned with my Personal Legend, I felt the most connected, effective, and satisfied with my life.  That's when I experienced instant gold.

I now know that my Personal Legend revolves around community.  I love the idea of creating community, bonding with people, teaching, learning, sharing, and being part of movements that aspire to help, assist, inspire, and empower people who need a lift.

And we all need a lift from time to time.

So it involves everyone.  It's part of being authentic to myself and being authentic with everyone that I interact with.  Empathy is one of my strongest powers.  It helps me make these connections, and see/feel what people need.   From there, I find it intellectually stimulating to find a solution.

I'm a natural problem solver and a natural leader.

So, when I pass... someday in the (probably) distant future, I would like my legacy to revolve around my personality.  I want to be known as someone who lived true to his heart.  Someone who would always lend a hand.  Someone who brought people and ideas together.  Some who had something meaningful to offer.

I'd like to be remembered as an artist - someone unique and unlike any other.

(My 20 something year old self just smiled.)

I've dabbled in painting, and I like to play music through various instruments.  I like to write poetry and tell stories.  But I'd like to be remembered not for my art... but simply for being an artist.

It's not about the product, per se, it's more about the process.

I want to be remembered as the living artist, who could find the beautify and magnificence in all people and things.  The artist who could "paint" smiles and solutions with the most genuine of strokes.  An artist who used the heart as his paint and life as his canvas.

I want people to remember me for making a difference in many lives.  I thrive on being a mentor and a teacher.  I love having heart-to-heart conversations.  Again, I like creating solutions and offering perspective.

I hope that my students remember me as someone who left a positive impact on them.  I'd be very proud if my legacy was supported by those that I've had the pleasure to teach.  I think it's such an honor to teach and share.

For teaching, to me, is not about the content or the subject matter.  We can just Google that now.  It's more about the process of the student.  It's about seeing people go deeper, and seeing how that content affects their lives and experiences.  It's about helping people connect to the things they love, whatever that may be.

And since I've identified these strengths, powers, and interests, I've found meaningful work and other outlets and experiences where that was needed.   Where I am needed.

When I tell people that my dream is to have a coffee shop (a place where I can create and support a community), they often laugh and say, "why not do that now - it's so simple."

I often reply that my dream is coming, but I am not yet there on my path.  Because my Personal Legend involves many experiences along the way.  There are many lives I have to interact with and touch, before I get to that place.  Teaching college and working with young, disabled adults (and the communities that these positions put me in) have enabled me to keep working in line with my Personal Legend.

Because they are jobs where I feel needed.

That helps me realize I am exactly where I am supposed to be on my path.

And that's how I want to be remembered.  I want to be remembered as the living artist, who taught about life and life's greatest joys, who touched many lives, as he constantly strove to improve himself and the world around him.

...as someone who stayed true to his path and his passion.

This week's poem:  Write your own epitaph.  


Here Lies Drew Jeglinski

who lived a life
of joy and mystery
who touched the lives
of a few and the many

A man of many words
and stories - tall tales
of love and glory
told over and over
(as if he couldn't always remember)

His dedication was profound
he loved music and sound
always hunting for the best
coffee in town

May he rest in eternal peace -
a teacher, a father, and once
an "honorary Supreme"

May he roll like a stone
in some kitsch-filled heaven

And may his words and deeds
live on

through awe and inspiration

Brighter and Brighter

The Strangest of Futures


So, this week, we're writing three short stories - projections about the future we see and the future we don't see.  Both may be coming.  Both may be amazing.


My Plan A

I've had a few jobs in my day.  Dishwasher (2x), Warehouseman,  Pool Boy (1 week), Mailman, Camp Counselor (3 summers), Commercial Cleaner, Librarian, Stay-up All Night Staff at a House for Troubled Teens, Pub Crawl Promoter (1 night), Public School Teacher, Hotel Front Deskman, Research Analyst, US Census Taker, Telemarketer (sort of), Educational Advisor, Bunker Hill Professor, Kids Yoga Teacher, Mentor, Program Director...

Therefore, with this type of history, and all of this wonderful service and experience, I'd like to retire soon.  Maybe ten years from now, when I'm 44 years old.

And in my sweet retirement, I plan to work.  But my jobs will be completely mine.  Completely fun.  Completely end of the line - dream jobs.  I'll know I've made it.

I will still be teaching a few college courses.

And I will own a double business.

One building.

On the first floor will be my coffee shop/cafe.

Above it, on the second floor, will be my little yoga studio.

I imagine it to be set in wooded area.  A little country, but maybe in the city.  Maybe up in Northern California.  That part will have to come to me.  Or I will stumble upon it at some point.

And in this future, the future of my design, I will be comfortable, financially.  Not particularly rich, but having no worries about money.  A graceful flow that's always just enough.

I will have a darling little family.  I once had a vision, where I was running with three daughters. That'd be nice.  And my wife... well, she'll be there, too.  Timelessly beautiful.  My very best friend.  My wife will sit in the coffee shop some days, where I can watch and admire her as she reads and writes.  So beautiful...

I will teach a few yoga classes during the week, but mostly spend my time in the coffee shop.  Roasting beans (for the bean club).  Serving customers.  Making the scene.  I'd like to make it a community space, where bands can play, people can perform.  Poets can come and read.

I might do special dinners on Thursday nights.  With wine.  I'm not sure.

This is my Plan A.  The future I'm moving towards (in my heart).

But then a twist...

The Plan A of my future may never happen.  I may never get to that little urban, country coffee shop yoga studio.  That may never come to be.

And that's ok.

Because maybe I don't get to retire so early.  Maybe things will happen, out of my control.  Maybe I'll be blindsided by a different path.

A few years down the road, there's a big shift.

My wife and I decide to take a trip to the Seychelles, off the eastern coast of Africa.  This is a trip we've been saving up for for years.  When we get there, it's a tropical island paradise.  We have a a trip of a lifetime, but during one of the last days, a major storm rips through the region.  A rough typhoon comes in the night, and it destroys the little village that we're staying in.  Luckily, we are alright, but he village is destroyed.  Devastated by the destruction, we decide to stay and help the villagers clear the debris.  We end up helping to a save a little girl trapped under her collapsed house.  At that moment, everything changes.

Plan B

The little girl that we rescued recovers in the local hospital, but her parents do not survive the storm.  My wife and I decide that we should adopt her.  It's a powerful moment of heart.

Back in the states, we have a hard time readjusting.  There is a new, burning desire in me to start doing something else.  Something new.  Something more helpful.

We decide to start fundraising for the storm victims.  The response is overwhelming.  We decide to start a little non-profit, with the mission to help educate refugees in Eastern Africa.  That little non-profit grows when we start to get national attention.  Eventually, it becomes a major NGO (non-governmental organization), and our mission expands.

Our organization begins to set up charter schools in Eritrea, Ethiopia, and Somalia.  We end up moving our offices to Paris, where we can hop on a plane to the areas we serve.

All of sudden, I realize that this is not the life that I had in mind.  But I couldn't have planned things to go this way.  Circumstance took control for a moment.  What was really important to me had changed overnight, with one wild storm of events.

Life in Paris.  An organization with a major mission.  A daughter that we take in and love.

Sometimes, you just have to go where the universe needs you.

This week's poem: a free verse about the concept of grace - that good things are coming your way



of grace


I can feel it coming      
this gentle wind

and the things it carries

the gifts that are not yet seen
the joys that are not yet heard

but I don't know where it comes
from

where did this wind begin?

This soft force
between gravity
and rotation

that seems to love me
for no particular reason

simply because I am

simply because I have a heart

a heart with beat

a beat that moves

like a rattle that shakes
sending a vibration

like tiny waves
pushing outward, forward

gaining momentum as
they spread upon laughter
and light

as they curve around the trees
and curl through the valleys

as they join with others

to cast off, into the night
on some playful mission

going somewhere

oh...

oh wait, I get it now

now I see

now I see where this wind
came to be

I see now
how how it
all comes back

it all comes back to me

Visions of the Future

Here's what I see in my future...

This is my vision board.  As you can see, I'd like to take a few trips.  A return to Portugal is on the top of my list.  I also love San Francisco, and am thinking of opening a cafe up there in the near future.  I'm currently improving my surf skills and will continue to improve upon this dance/art.  One of my short term goals is to play music and sing at an open mic.  I also have strong desires to find a partner to marry and have children with.  My time is coming.  And then, my ultimate goal is to someday own a coffee shop and yoga studio - preferably in the same building.  It's my dream jobs.  I always thought that it'd be fun to run my own business, and running a community space.  Lastly, I put love and abundance on my vision board, as I hope to always have these two elements in my life - to keep me rich.  

This week's poem: A look into the future

When I look into the future 

what is it I want for me?

Now I see

Now I see...

I see the lifting of the fog

and the sun litten streets

Now I see

Now I see

I see a child is born

and he looks just like me

Now I see 

Now I see

I see the bride now of my life

under willow trees

Now I see

Now I see

I smell the breads that are baking

and the roasting of the beans

Now I see

Now I see

I hear the songs of my heart

put to melodies

Now I see

Now I see

I know that love is what now 

leads me

Now I see 

Now I see

I see myself back in the classroom

a performance of this teaching

Now I see

Now I see

I see that it keeps getting better

and it takes work to be happy

Now I see

Now I see

I see that grace will meet me there

and that it has been leading me 

towards thee

Now I see

Now I see...

What else could I want

besides being able to be me?

For all in need in life

are some of the most simplest of things

She Moves Me

A dedication
          to the one(s) I love...


It seems like, if I kept a continual list of all my passions, that list would get longer and longer each year.  I have several, simple passions in my life.  People, things, objects, sounds, moments, and experiences that turn me on and tune me in.  Simple movement is one of them.  As many of you know, yoga is a big passion of mine.  I think about it... a lot.  I enjoy practicing as well as teaching.

For several years, I volunteer-taught a class for several older guys and gals with developmental disabilities.  They are scraggly bunch alright (they still attend the class, now taught by another teacher in training).  Some of them are non-verbal.  One man is deaf and nearly blind.   Another guy, Jason, is grumpy, sarcastic, and defiant.  Gruff.  Many of them have experienced extreme trauma and abuse in their lives.  Now they live in a group home and live a very structured lifestyle.  For most of them, it's a rough go.

But they find happiness in yoga.

I started teaching the class as part of my teacher training at the Soul of Yoga in Encinitas.  I had to do "seva" or service (volunteerism) as part of the course.  So, I chose to teach this class.  I was required to teach it for 2 weeks.  I ended up teaching it for nearly 2 years.  Why?

Because it filled my soul.

Every time this tall man, David, came in, he'd give me million dollar smile.  I was once able to get Jason to dance, after months of him refusing to move or participate.  I caught him swaying to a song I put on.  He turned to me, in all seriousness, and said, "this song is infectious".  That made my whole week.  And every time Ron would say "Mother's Day" instead of "namaste", at the end of class, I felt like I was getting paid in gold.

These passions for teaching and working with the special needs population have led to some of the greatest opportunities of my life.  And some of the most joyous moments.

During this time period, I worked up the ranks to become the Program Director of a service agency that provides mentoring and social coaching for young adults that have some form of autism or cognitive delay.  Many of them also suffer from anxiety, depression, and a debilitating lack of self-confidence.  And they are some of the most wonderful people I've ever met in my life.

That job also allowed me to work with some of the most intelligent, funny, and creative people on the planet.  Especially my staff and fellow colleagues.  There was never a dull day.  People can be so fascinating, and to help them realize that and feel that... well, there's that gold again.

My passion for teaching, my love of people and for service work, and my dedication to developing amazing, life-changing programs and experiences have kept me on my toes.

It's not always easy.  (But it's a love thing.)

Many of the clients I've worked with, who are highly capable individuals in their twenties and early thirties, came to our program because they needed socialization, guidance, and employment.  The company motto is: Support, Enrich, and Empower.

One of my personal goals was to develop, locate, and facilitate jobs for my clients, in which they give back to the community and the planet.  I wanted them to have purposeful and fulfilling work.  I wanted them, with all of their quirks and challenges (and often a total lack of experience), to be able to work at a job that gives them power, joy, and great purpose.  Imagine that.  People with "limited capabilities" giving back and doing service work.  How beautiful is that?

They can work with rescued animals.  They can promote recycling projects in elementary schools.  They can produce top dollar fine art.  They can deliver meals to the elderly.  They can grow and sell their own food.  And they can brighten anyone's day.

My passion is to help people realize their passion.

And I just can't stop.




This week's poem: a love poem for passion, with movement.

She Moves Me


There is something profoundly simple

             and sweet
      when our worlds suddenly meet

         somewhere on the surface
     passing in the streets
             
    There's a lure to the luminosity
       a sway in her soft gravity
            something constantly
          drawing us near
       
                   particles burst
       and swirl into songs
             longing to be heard

      Harmonious collisions
          break open constellations
             that supposedly hold us together
               and keep us apart

       There is so much creation
               yet to be made
            by two hands
                    just holding
           

         What will we whip up
       in the latest looms of our
                                       love?

          What will we stitch together
               that will last longer than the sun?

    I will wear anything that
         we can dance in

        For the particles keep falling
 
     and the songs keep getting better
 and better
          When we both lie and listen
               so closely


   

Latitudes of Gratitude

When my mind is stuck in the storm of daily thoughts (they say we have 50,000 per day), time goes by - fairly unnoticed.  I manage.  I complete.  I wash.  I repeat.

Sometimes it feels like I'm on autopilot.  My routines keep me afloat.  It's often in these times, in these moments, when I lose my presence and get caught up in automatic thoughts.  Task, task, task.  I don't set aside the time to stop and reflect.  To smile at the things that are smiling back at me.  To take in the simple joys that happen everyday.  I'm too busy with my big ol' nose to the grindstone.

One of the things that I take for granted is my health.  Overall, I'm a fairly healthy individual.  I eat healthily.  I like to walk, hike, and practice yoga.  I often take for granted the simple fact that I have a body in pretty good condition.  It gets me through.  I am blessed to not be battling a crippling illness or disease.  I am blessed that I have the simple ability to type these words.  I have smart, little fingers.  But my daily health can be something that I take for granted.  It's often that I don't even notice, until I get sick, and experience the opposite.

Another thing that I catch myself take for granted is my car.  Cars are pesky little machines.  It's not until we break down or something major happens that we notice how important our vehicles are to our daily lives.  I often jump in my car, expect it to start, and expect that it's going to take me everywhere I need to go.  Sometimes, I remember to appreciate it for still running so well.  I have no impending service or bills.  She's a good car.  I will pet her dashboard to show her love.

I have so much gratitude for all the people in my life.  I must give a huge shout out to my colleagues at work.  They are some of the kindest, most hardworking people you've ever met.  I couldn't be more blessed with the staff I have.  They put their heart and soul into their jobs, and they are truly inspiring people.  I look forward to seeing them everyday.  Some of them are the closest friends I have right now.

I am also very grateful for the opportunity to teach this very class.  This class was an idea that popped into my head last year, and it is amazing to see it come alive.  I hardly have the time to properly teach it, and I'd love to teach it live, but so far, it's coming together so well.  I am grateful that the students are taking it seriously.  Many of them are writing the most amazing journals and poems.  It's heart warming.  I am grateful for the opportunity.  It's worth the late nights and early mornings by the computer.

Lastly, I am simply grateful to be alive.  This past weekend, I had an interesting and humbling experience at sea, as my two friends and I were fogged in while snorkeling off of Catalina Island.  It was a bit nerve wracking to be so blinded while on the water.  All we could see was the boat, the white everything, and a little, nickel-sized disk of a sun.  By grace, we were able to slowly navigate our way back down the coast to harbor.  For a moment, we got a little nervous.  It just goes to show that life really is precious.

Hug everyone you love.

Taking in More Good

I could do a better job of taking in the good of great conversations I have with my friends.  A stimulating conversation is worth so much.  I oftentimes get stuck and stop listening to people, and I get fixated on what I want to say instead.  I could do a better job of staying present, hearing them out, and then offering my counterpoint.  I could be more present.  With that, I would probably relax more and enjoy those conversations.  Then, I can appreciate them, my friends (even more), and the intimate experience of great conversation.




This Week's Poem: 5 Haikus of Gratitude



Quiet village moon
mist looms behind the houses

Avalon morning


Everything turned white
except the nearby ripples
I swear, that was it


Sleepy seaside town
bells chime across the canyon
time again stood still


A cup of coffee
splits everything into two
She likes the grey clouds

Six A.M. darkness
well, might as well be midnight
here comes the movement

No cars, just golf carts
breakfast sounds climb through windows
Everyone sleeps in

The Overcoming

This week, as we continue into the present, we are focused on examining our fears, identifying our obstacles, and counting our assets.

Fear is part of the human condition.  It's a part of our psyche.  Growing up, I was afraid of the usual stuff: spiders, ghosts, and burglars.  We'd always find Budweiser cans and fire pits in the woods.  My first thought: devil worshipers.  It's funny how, when we're younger, the fear response is so prominent.  Loud sounds, thunder and lightening, dangers around every corner.  Childhood was very scary.  Maybe it was all those Tim Burton movies.  Damn Beetlejuice.

Now that I'm older, and I no longer check the closet for murderers before bed, I still catch myself confronting fears.  But now these fears, which come out through anxiety, resistance, and (in the most extreme sense) paranoia, are harder to identify.  Many of these thought patterns and defense systems have been built up over the years - to the point where we don't notice their influence.

With mindfulness and awareness, I've come to observe my fears and anxieties from a safe distance.  I can see what they are and what they stem from, by being aware of my emotions and reactions.  I catch them.  Some of my deepest fears these days stem around social anxieties, work stress, and my family situation.

I get anxiety over stressful situations - when things seem out of my control.  I may have a fear of chaos or control issues.  Control issues may stem from a fear of spontaneity and chaos.  I'd like to think that I'm a "go with the flow" type of person, but in fact, I prefer a well-executed plan.  I can deal with controlled chaos, but I find it stressful.  I like to know.  Maybe I have a fear of the unknown, the unpredictable.

My family is another source of anxiety for me.   A lot of old stuff comes up when I think about it.  I've been around drug addicts and alcoholics all of my life, and it has greatly influenced (and damaged) my outlook on humanity.  It's a trust thing.  I used to fear my father, because he was so unpredictable.  He'd have tremendous mood swings when he was drunk.  I was afraid to draw his attention when I was younger, so I just kept quiet and out of the way.  This, when examined with a wider lens, has created a fear within me - that people will just turn on me.  People will definitely change and do their thing, but I'm certain now that I don't surround myself with such unpredictable people.  Because of that fear, I only associate with people I trust.  I can smell a bullshitter a mile away.

In terms of assets, I have many.  Let me count the ways.  I was blessed with academic ability, I have creative talents, and I'm quite friendly and social these days (now that I know myself better).  I make good use of my bullshit radar, and it actually is an asset when I need to hire people that I need to trust.  I have two very cool jobs, a car that gets me from A to B, a beach, a bike, and an amazing home.  I also have a great sense of humor, which helps me laugh at myself once in a while (for kicks).  I have very dear friends who are like family, and I have the ability to cook fantastic dinners for them when they come over.  I have enough money to buy the things I need and a few of the things I want (like a good coffee).  I have a lot of assets to back me up when I feel blue.

When I want to be proactive about taking care of my anxieties, I cultivate calmness and awareness with breathing and meditation.  I also practice yoga daily, which keeps me quite mellow and satisfied.  I also play music (solo and with friends) so that I can express these emotions in a safe and creative way.  Playing an instrument is like meditation, as it requires so much focus - on one thing.  In meditation, it's the breadth.  In music, it's the song.  You can't think about anything else when you're really into playing a song.  You're enveloped.  Another great activity that I do to relax and stave off anxiety is to ride my beach cruiser.  I like to ride around town at sunset and just feel myself cutting through the air - and having fun.  Like a kid again.  It's life at the speed of bike.  Check it out.

I've come to realize that anxiety is a modern feature to all adults.  We all get it.  So, we all need to figure out how to deal with it and control it, before it controls us.  We need to keep the fear and anxiety in check, so as not to create our own obstacles in life.  Fear should never be the driver for life's big decisions.  There's no adventure in that.  Live for the now.

This week's poem: a rap battle vs. fear


Mr. Fear

Hey Mr. Fear, why don't you come into the light
with your bag and your blues
your anger, your fright

You still come around
like a thief up in the night
come and show your face
it's time to set it right

yo, you're hollow (what?)
like a bladeless knife

slicing lies through my mind
but I ain't willing to fight

let's chill
and sit it down for a game
cause I know you're in my head
yo, we're one in the same

I know your moves
and your clues
before they're even made

I know your raps
and your rhymes
like the time of day

hey yo, King me
cause I'm coming back for more
I learned a thing or two
when I crossed the playing board

for a time you were mine
my worthy opponent
but the fear - it disappears

the second I own it

Present Moment Free Write

A train goes by.  The Surfliner.  Then a bus.  The Breeze.

It took a while for the light to come out this morning.  The wind is blowing cold.  Fall must be here.  I can feel that my feet are a little cold.  My limbs want to hug in.  Maybe I should make a cup of tea.  But I'm not ready to go down stairs.  Looks like the sun will join us, once these clouds break.  Another train goes by.  Where are all these people going?

I'm tired.  But I know that I am going to punch through today.  I have too much to do and too many people to care for to slow down.  But am I getting burnt out in the end?  Part of my practice needs to be pausing.  Resting.  Stress is a quiet animal that creeps up on us.  I'm feeling indecisive.  Maybe I will run the trail this morning - to get myself going.

It's just about time to wake up the roommate.  Make some breakfast.  The birds are out.  The bells are ringing.  It's already Wednesday, and I can't stop thinking about the weekend.  She wants to go bowling.  Ok.  Got a few days to square away.  Got a few moments to breathe into first.

Realizing slowly that my recent trip home was quite heavy for my heart.  This one's got bad news.  That one isn't doing well.  It was heartbreaking to hear of divorce for a young family.  New baby.  I also heard many rumors about my brother.  Thought I saw him walking past the projects, lost.  Maybe I wanted to see him so bad, he appeared.  Maybe I just made him up.  Head's turn.

The hardest part about home is that nobody wants to really feel it.  There is a pain and a sadness that is draped over that city.  Stuck in a bottle.  I don't get it.  Is it karma?  Why is everything there still the same - again?

I have to breathe through this.  Process.  Move on.

Home will always be there.  Sulking.

In the meantime, as I breathe, I see that this is where I am meant to be.  Putting all of the sadness and anger into the heart, where I can recycle it.  Make it useful.  Help others.  Be strong.

Cry for those that cannot cry.

Breathing is the key.  Let's stay close to each other.  Maybe with words.  Maybe with letters.

Acceptance.

Hmm... I'll have to sit with that.

Ok, let's go do this.  For the bigger picture.  For the tiniest moments.  Let's go find this love today.

This week's (mindfulness) poem:



When I stop, I notice


When I stop
      I notice all the little things
  unfurling
       how the
    flowers keep yawning,
               come morning

When I stop
      I notice the trees slightly leaning

       and all the buzzes beesing
           the humming
          sounds
              of a blessing
                   (just visiting)

      I see the trains coming and going
           without sticking
             just running
                on their rusty tracks

      I notice how we all tilt back

      When I stop
          I notice all the clouds
      calling
           and the great whirl that's airing
               like sirens
         singing
                   me towards sunset
                (blaring)

    A radio keeps the time - like a clock

     When I stop      
I notice how my words keep bending
        towards her ears
            unfolding
                 I notice how her eyes
                   are left lingering
                 at the coffee shop

       When I stop
    I let the rest just go on without me

      I can see now - just how tiny

           and how the world
        goes around
                 once more
   
      just to catch up
                            with the pace
                  of my heart