For those of you who have yet to switch over to my new (old) blog location on Blogspot, here are the past three blogs I’ve posts there, as well as today’s piece on Medium. Thanks so much for check them out, reposting, sharing, and spending a little time with me. You are greatly appreciated! xo Ilene
This is a very special one about today. The Kids are Alright
Here is a link to my latest blog in its new location!
Due to technical issues Ilene’s blog is returning to its former home on blogspot.
Come join us there!
New Year’s is always an emotional and, truthfully, melancholy time of year for me.
It’s a time of taking stock and looking back, of gathering new resolve and of contemplating the future and what I want for it.
But this year feels different to me. This year feels like it’s more about what I am willing to release and what I am willing to embrace.
I’ve been obsessed lately with getting rid of things. And as clutter experts will tell you, doing that is a means by which we process our lives and our pasts and make peace with it. What I’ve discovered is it is also a great way to see what stops us.
Because I’ve been a writer my whole life, I have papers – lots and lots of papers. Papers I’ve saved, but haven’t looked at, let alone read, in years. So I decided that this is the time, as the New Year approaches.
Funny thing about that – I saw a pretty consistent picture of what I’ve struggled with…and still do. I’ve also seen what I’ve brought to fruition and how I’ve transformed, but mostly what I’ve struggled with.
Transformation is not an easy thing or everyone would be doing it. I mean who doesn’t want to be the best version of themselves? No one, that’s who.
So as 2017 is winding down and 2018 fast approaches, I thought I’d take a moment to be honest about what I am ready to let go of and what I am ready to embrace…
I release what weighs me down and keeps me living small.
I release all false beliefs that would say I am less than, or not enough, or not the stuff of greatness.
I release old patterns of fear and anxiety and worry.
I release anything, real or imagined, that would limit my life and potential.
I release “I can’t,” “I don’t know how,” and “I can’t afford.”
I release scarcity and lack in favor of abundance and more than enough.
I embrace the idea that I already embody what it is I think I seek outside myself.
I embrace the moment and those who are in it with me now.
I release the idea of struggle and I embrace the idea of ease.
I release the old patterns of separation and embrace unity.
I lean into the not knowing and trust that I will be guided to the next right step and next right action.
I embrace the idea that I am, at all times, surrounded by a benevolent universe, a loving God, and a host of angels, both celestial and human.
I embrace the idea that every kind word, loving deed, and morsel of positivity change the course of the world and the trajectory that we are on for the better.
I release old hurts in favor of new possibilities.
I resolve to do the best I can from where I am in this moment to be a beneficial presence to myself, to others, and to the world.
I embrace the notion of leading and of leading by example, because if not me, then who?
And while I’m on the subject, I release my reluctance to lead, to speak up, to speak out, and to teach whatever it is I have to offer from my time here.
I embrace trust, knowing that I know, knowing that I’m safe, knowing that there really is no other way and that the idea of control is an illusion I’d be better served without.
I embrace love.
I embrace peace.
I embrace generosity of spirit.
I embrace compassion, kindness, and self-love.
I release limits and embrace possibility.
I release closed doors and unanswered prayers as I embrace the good that newly comes into my life unexpectedly.
I embrace “there is always a way.”
I could go on and on, because the promise of a new day and a new year carry with them the blank slate of possibility and opportunity.
I hope you will take some time these next couple of days to give yourself the gift of reflection and decision about what you are willing to commit to for the coming year.
Please know that whether you are a regular reader or this is your first visit here, you are welcomed and most appreciated.
I wish you greater blessings than you can imagine in 2018.
A happy and blessed New Year to you all!
I’ve been giving a lot of thought to miracles lately, because this is, after all, supposed to be a season of them. And funny thing about that – you usually find what you look for, so depending on what constitutes a miracle to you, you can be perpetually steeped in wonder or dying of thirst in a vast desert devoid of such things.
Me, I like to look on the bright side, especially in these dark times we appear to be living in, so what constitutes a miracle to me is as simple and as difficult as any act of love in an unloving world, a change of heart, compassion, or genuine forgiveness.
And that brings me to last night…
Our band, The Inspire Project, which is comprised of me, Tanya Leah, and Lorraine Ferro, had a gig at Rockwood Music Hall in Manhattan – our first actual gig in New York City, despite the fact that the three of us are New Yorkers.
Christmastime in Manhattan is filled with lights and festivity…and so many people that it is nearly impossible to traverse on foot, let alone in a car.
But my mother, God rest her soul, did not want me to be afraid to drive anywhere – which is a neat trick, considering my fears are many and vast. So she took me to practice driving in Manhattan, when I first started learning to drive.
In retrospect, that was not only a little insane, but also, a precious gift she gave me, because I’ve driven practically everywhere in these United States.
So there we were – me, Tanya, Tanya’s husband, Arnie, keyboards, guitars, and assorted other band paraphernalia, packed snugly into my Prius, trying to get to our gig downtown, four days before Christmas. We were doing okay, until we got to the corner of Clarkson and 7th Avenue South, which was complete gridlock across at least six or seven lanes of traffic on 7th Avenue.
We would be there forever. In fact, I think I’d still be sitting on the corner of Clarkson and 7th Ave. South right now if it wasn’t for Tanya, who hopped out of the car and into the middle of oncoming traffic on 7th Ave. to make a clearing for me.
Lane by lane, she singlehandedly stopped traffic, with nothing but her hand and determination, as she waved me on excitedly to cross 7th, which I did.
Now, one could just chalk this up to the lengths a band will go to, to get to a gig on time, which are many, by the by. However, I choose to look at it as the great lengths a friend will go to in order to help another friend out.
And that brings me back to miracles.
We all possess within us the ability to be someone’s miracle.
In these times, it is a radical idea to love one another. It is hard to conceive of peace amid the deafening sounds of intolerance. It is an act of faith to get out of bed in the morning to face the ugliness of hate-filled rhetoric and the barrage of lies that would convince us that we are perpetually threatened by our fellow man or that we are separate from him or her at all.
It is easier to blame, to cast out, to berate and belittle. It is much harder to love in the face of those things. But that is what we are called to do. It is what we were made for and it is why we are here.
I usually shy away from such preaching. After all, who am I to tell you what to do? But desperate times call for desperate measures, and I believe we’re there. So I’m telling you – our job is to love one another, to lift each other up, to be the walking embodiment of peace and goodness, and to stop waiting for anyone else to lead the way to that. It’s you. It’s me. It’s time.
So in this season of miracles, I’m asking that your gift to this world be you – in all your glorious imperfection and vulnerability, and in your greatness and magnificence.
Tell people what they mean to you. Be the one who offers the kind word, or the olive branch, or the helping hand. And be the one who remembers to be grateful for every kindness people show you.
Our world will be redeemed by love alone. It is quiet, but mighty.
So in this season of miracles, I wish you eyes that see through the lens of joy and gratitude, peace that fills your heart and home, and love that transcends everything. Oh, and I also wish you someone in your life who’d stop traffic for you.
Peace and blessings, and the merriest of Christmases to you,