I know the power of love. I teach love is this the best tool for surviving, and thriving anything! Today I received a letter from Jule Aguirre, a friend and co worker. She had reached out to me, inquiring about my husbands health. I shared how he was, and how I was-am. 

Being a private person and a highly visible figure, my life’s often like an open book. I have learned to deal with this, and with all the energy good and bad that comes my way. It’s a lot to handle.

Jules message was perfect. Just what I needed, and it reminded me of the power of love, and in the need for me to connect, and reach out.

Her message: I will check-in in a few days to learn of the ultrasound results. I can only imagine the stress you are under, Debbie, and it is only natural that you, your body, your emotions, all of YOU, would hit a wall, landing in depression and sadness. Witnessing a loved one deteriorate in health is astoundingly stressful, the fear, the uncertainty, and the overwhelming navigation through our healthcare systems—the whole dynamic of ‘compassion fatigue” is REAL. What action plan do you have to take care of YOU while Jeff is going through these tests and treatments? Being the Top Dog of Nia, I wonder if you have people around you who can be there to support you, intimate friends/family to listen, to help you with some of the little things, and big things—you need this now. Do not stand alone on the mountain top. You are a strong woman, and yet, there are other strong women (and perhaps men) in your sphere who can stand with you in your pain, to be there to lighten the load, bind together with you to create stability and unbreakable strength (like a rope). Ask for help. Let others do for you and have at least one confidant who you can talk/share/vent with, and find something nurturing to do for yourself each day. Is there anything I can do to support you? I am here if you need me. Don’t hesitate to call on me.

I did. I will. Thank you.

I often find the Universe giving me the opportunity to walk my talk. Today, I find myself standing at the edge of walking the talk I talk. The talk where I say, “The best way to live your life is with the attitude of doing what you do to; live well and die well”.

Being a fitness and health visionary, a leader and lifestyle role model to hundreds of thousands of people all over the world I am constantly reminded, “Debbie, you are being watched”. What I do, say, how I live, everything is an open book. Sometimes I wish it wasn’t, like right now.

In my personal life I’m facing one of the most challenging experiences one can face: death. Not mine, or at least this is what I tell myself. Truth is none of us know. I could die today.

My husband is sick. He has been sick since he was 14, the year he contracted hepatitis C. He escaped facing the reality of this disease for years. Now he can no longer ignore the fact, he’s sick.

It’s funny how death seems close when one is sick, and far away, off in the distance when all is well.

I’ve known he was sick for a long time. I’ve watched him over the years we’ve been together. I couldn’t ignore the signs, as the body is my work. I see things, feel things, sense things, and notice more than most people do. This is good and also painful.

We’re doing our best to deal. To stay positive, even in the midst of the medical system where doctors tell us their reality, something that momentarily seems to take my hope away. I’m not sure why doctors do this. I figure it’s to protect them rather than protect the spirit of the people sick. Something’s wrong with this.

Last night a friend of mine came over for dinner. Earlier in the day she had visited another friends husband. He’s in an acute care facility. His wife has been his full time caretaker for several years. He is dying. She has not left his side since he became sick and had a kidney transplant. She’s been sleeping in a lounge chair next to his bed. To most he’s barely responsive. She knows he’s still in there.

Yesterday she left the room for an hour to take a shower at her sisters. She came back and, the chair she was sleeping in was gone. The management has a new rule: No family member can stay overnight. Needless to say she was devastated. She decided not to complain for fear of retaliation. I’m not sure what the outcome will be but I do know if I had been there I would have openly shared my feelings of “This is wrong!”. I would have fought for the chair, and for their rights, to be together, to live well and die well. I would have questioned why it is more important to take the chair away, to live by the rules rather than do what healers are supposed to do: heal.

Years ago I read a book, On Death and Dying: What the Dying Have to Teach Doctors, Nurses, Clergy, and Their Own Family by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross.

This book was my first initiation into thinking about how I wanted to live and die. This book refocuses attention on the patient, helping us to perceive the sick as human beings, and as teachers. Teachers we should pay attention to and learn from, learning about the stages of living while dying. It examines the attitudes of people dying, and explores many factors that contribute to society’s anxiety over death. It closely looks at what Elisabeth Kubler-Ross called the five stages of death: denial and isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. It also examines how the dying and living deal with this whole thing called death.

I don’t know the answer to dealing with it all. What I do know is: no one gets out alive. No one can escape the fact that death is a part of life. No one, not the patient or the doctor can tell you when your time is up. All they can tell you is what they “think,” which is information that comes from looking at statistics, and from values and a philosophy learned as part of the process of becoming a doctor. I don’t know what destiny has in store for me, or for my husband. I do know, today, I’m alive, and so is he. The sun is shining, I’ve had my Starbuck’s coffee, my way, with one pump mocha, and whipped cream. I’m about to drive in my beautiful car, to my beautiful office. I’ll text him today, several times, letting him know how much I love him. Touching his heart with mine for as long as I can. We’ll have dinner. He’ll cook. I’ll listen, look and sense him, sense us as deeply as I can. I’ll tell my mind to see him getting the interferon treatments he needs, his body getting well, with time on our side. I’ll dream us celebrating his healing by going to Rome and Venice, his homes, and I’ll take one step at a time on the path towards living and dying well—today.

I seldom get political, matter of fact I often criticize my husband for doing just that; sharing his political views. I tell myself a story that as a public figure who is a leader of an organization of people, mostly women mind you, it is in my best interest to stay neutral. But I am anything but neutral. I am a radical, outspoken woman interested in changing the world. My purpose: help feel “feel to heal”. 

As I see it the feeling is what is missing in the world, and the more technology becomes the partner we spend time connecting with, dreaming with, playing with, communicating with, the farther we stray from the one thing that makes us great as human beings: the capacity to feel.

As I said, I stay away from politics. What I feel about the world and people I keep private. I got enough attacks for telling the world to take off your shoes, stop jumping, get conscious, as this is the way to workout that respects the body. Today I am feeling political, angry and sad. It is beyond words the depth of my emotions, so I cry, I talk to my husband and we have a great discourse about the injustice in the world called violence, which is misdirected energy directed at and taken out on any and everything from animals, to women, men, cars, buildings, groups of people, even runners. There will be no end to all this violence until we, the mothers, the women stand up and say no, and until we understand it is the women who teach about love, tenderness, sacred sex, touch, compassion, and yes-the balance of fierceness and the right to kill if we need to protect what is right. It’s the right humans don’t get. Is the list of what right found in the ten commandments? In the bible? In the torah? Or is found in the heart, in the empty spaces where a voice, call it god or what ever you want, this voice speaks to each one of us even for a brief moment giving us the opportunity to choose right or wrong.

Being in the business of the body I go to the body to know what is right. I know my body will speak to me. We have a relationship I have been cultivating since birth. It talks to me and I listen. I talk to it and it communicates with me in ways no therapist, friend or coach can.

As usual I got up this morning and went to Starbucks for my Sunday coffee and alone time leisurely reading the New York Times (April 21, 2013). The front page like every news channel lately was filled with stories about the Boston Bombing. On page four there was a small article, “Rape of 5-Year-Old Girl Sets Off New Furor in India”. This comes on the heels of the december incident where a woman was gang-raped and tortured and her companion beaten. She died, and as a result some changes in the laws regarding rape changed-but not enough. The sexual assalts continue to be reported around India with regularity.

The outcome of this most recent attack to a 5 year old girl in New Dehli, drew only hundreds, not millions of demonstrators which I believe is what should happen. Millions-not hundreds saying, “enough,” protesting, besieging the New Dehli’s police headquarters to protest the kidnapping, rape and torture of a 5-year old girl. Arrested was a 22 year old man recently married who had an apartment in the same building as the young girl. The parents of the girl discovered her Wednesday in the mans apartment. He had fled thinking she was dead. The medical superintendant said it was the first time he had seen such barbarism. Injuries to her lips, cheeks, arms and anus, and bruises on her neck in an attempt to strangle her. He said a bottle almost 8 inches long and pieces of candle had been inserted into her. The anger among the community came when the parents reported that the police did not take the complaint seriously, and that they failed to carry out an adequate search and offered the partens 2,000 rupees—about $37.00 if they would keep quiet. Then on friday TV cameras showed a large mustachioed police officer slapping a small female protester in the face. And as usual people in the government put out their statements in attempt to make everyone feel as if something is being done. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh expressed regrets. President of the Indian National Congress Party, Sonia Gandi released a statement condemning the rape and saying that, “action and not words are required to ensure such incidents never happen again,” but we all know they will. They will until we as a society, men and women say “enough”. As women we have to stand and say, “You can not take our children and teach and train them to kill. The world needs us all to stop hating and hurting others in order to feel right, and to feel safe, in control.

Physical violence, emotional hurt and humiliation, psychic stabs, it’s all wrong. Just ask Ann Curry who was the victim of the good old boys and girls club at NBCUniversal where in the control room they spent time making fun of Ann’s outfit choices or just generally messing with her. For more, read “Waking Up on the Wrong Side of A Read Rating War” in the New York Times Magazine April 21, 2013.

I don’t know what I can do-we can do-but I want to do something, so I am using my political voice.

I like many people have been asking, “why?” Why is a word I use when I feel confused about the events I see around me, in me, and in my life. I ask myself, “Why do they, why do you do this, why did he/she do this, why do you do this Debbie?” I ask “why” seeking answers to things I know there is no one answer for. Life’s too complex. There are too many variables, choices and reasons why people do what they do.

I view life as a reflection of the fabric of the Universe. Its a design created by the spirits and souls weaving their way through the maze of life choices. Along the way, I like everyone else often drop stitches. They reflect the moments when I disconnect from the sacredness and sanctuary of living my life. They occur when I forget I am connected to all this is, loved, and that my life is as it should be-perfect. I too often forget this when I get caught up in the “me syndrome” and forget to be in the “we” of living. This disconnection tears the fabric of my life away from my spirit, soul, and from the universal design of love that connects us all and all things. When I disconnect I make choices and decisions that leave scars, burns in the fabric of my life, affecting me and the lives of all who are directly and indirectly connected to me. Somehow I move on telling myself it’s no big deal, but it is, it all is. Life is a big deal. My life is a big deal. Living a sacred life is a big deal and I’d better not take life for granted-ever.

I have made many mistakes in my life. I have hurt people. What makes me feel OK about this all is that I learn from my mistakes. My learning has left me more compassionate, truthful, loving and forgiving of both myself and others. It has left me trusting in what life unfolds, even when it is horrible.

Today, filled with sadness about Boston and mourning the loss of someone I know chose death over life I decided to imagine washing and drying the fabric of my life in the sun. I even did an inventory of my life and perceived myself cutting away parts of me in an attempt to make things I don’t want or like about me go away. I wanted to make things die that no longer support who I want to be. It was a fun process but not really affective.

Separation, division, is only a figment of my mind. I create the separation. We, all things are connected by the timeless threads of life and lifetimes we have shared. If we’re lucky, the needle we use to create the patch of our life upon the quilt of the Universe is the needle of love. I strive to use this needle but sometimes I drop a stitch. Good news is, it is easier to sew the fabric of your life with love, as there is far less resistance from the Univers, the world, and the people we touch!

Asking “why” someone would want to consciously cause harm to another, or why would someone choose death over life takes me down a long rabbit hole. At the bottom of this hole all I can do is ask myself what I would do. The answer is: I would, and I do choose life using today and everyday to pray, send healing energy, light and love to those living and left behind. The answer to “why” is simple. Actions cause movement, and movement is key to life. I never would have written this if were not for the events of the fabric of my life, our life.

I’m at Starbucks in San Francisco having just completed my third training with Gil Hedley. What made this training so special was my sister joined me. As she told the group, “Most sisters give you gifts like jewelry and clothes, not mine, she gives a dissection course!”

We had a great time at the training learning and exploring the body we all live in. More important, we had a great time together. We seldom get to spend this kind of sister time any more, life gets in the way, mine and hers. Me 62 and Jen 66, when we get together it seems like nothing much has changed except our skin. Underneath we feel the same, which accounts for the personalities that come out and play. Some familiar and some new. Even though a lot feels the same, deep down we both know things have changed. Time has taken its toll on our body, mind, heart and soul. I like to tell myself the time has made me wiser, nicer, brighter, and generally calmer about the way I deal with life. Somehow this story seems to make me feel like I’ve use my time wisely, intelligently. When I let go of this story I’m left with the dance of time and choice. There’s the time of my life, and the choices I make, have made, and will make. These are the things that craft my body and life, the choices, my choices. Maybe this is why I always feel there is never enough time. I know my time in this body, on this earth, it will end. It will come and go. My soul, well that’s another thing. After this week I’m even more convinced the soul, my soul is timeless, and that the body is a gift. We are the ones who dance with time, here and now.

I shall spend the rest of this year using my time to process what I experienced in Gil’s training, the physical form of four people’s life exposed, giving themselves to me, and their only desire? For me to understand the body in ways pertinent to my evolution and enlightenment. I shall spend time recalling the shared moments with my sister, our lunches, her laugh, the look in her eyes, her voice, memories of our time together, so precious. I shall spend time quietly sitting among people in a body, observing life and lives, reminding me, “Debbie, use your time wisely, as like everything in life, in the universe, in the body, the sand in the hour glass of time is in motion, and it won’t stop. Not until the last bit of sand falls through the opening, into the abyss of the unknown space of time. Only then will the tides turn. It will then be someone else’s turn to live life a body. Will it be me, again living another life time? Only time will tell.

If you’ve been following me you know I’m attending the Gil Hedley Integral Anatomy Training in San Francisco, California. Over five days I am researching and exploring the body via a very spiritual dissection course. It is an approach no medical student gets. I know this, as the med students say they are always amazed at Gil’s unique and deeply spiritual sacred approach. Yesterday, day two was spent researching the subcataneous fat, the amazing yellow stuff most of us, especially women have been taught to hate. When did I first hate my body, a part, fat, the size? I’m not sure. I do remember looking at my thighs in gym class and realizing mine were curvy and Bonnie’s weren’t. I liked hers better. I wanted hers, not mine. From that moment my thighs became my enemy. I put up with them. I did not love them. I bitched at them. I hated them, they were fat. Did I hate them because my thighs were the only fat part of my body then? Maybe.

This is the third time I have done this course and I am getting smarter and more loving towards my body by doing it. I’m beginning to love my fat. What did I learn yesterday?

As I looked at the beautiful body given to us from the donar and her family, staring of the amazing African American woman on my table, allowing the layer of yellow to shine brightly and speak to me, I apologized to my fat. I asked for forgiveness, for my ignorance in not knowing that under my skin lies a partner tissue, as Gil says, “the layer of fat is an organ”. Fat is not just a protector, it’s an insulator connected with the other organs in my body. Responsible for creating movement.

I know how important movement is. Movement sustains life and so does fat, the right amount of fat. I shall eat smarter today to add to the good fat in my body. I will love my thighs.

Today we explore the muscles and their saran wrap connective tissues that surrounds and connects the tissues of these engines. What I see that is new will again blow my mind?

What a gift it is to have a body. What a journey it is to live in my body and respect it. Love it, and treat it well. As I say, “Live and Die Well Debbie”.

I am about to go to the dental school in San Francisco for day 2 the Gil Hedley Integral Anatomy Training. This is my third time and it won’t be the last. I along with my sister Jenni Fox and about 30 others. She is an amazing Yogi teacher and sculpture and with her husband Paul they take people on retreats blending art, Yoga, and yes the beauty of places like Tuscany.  They celebrate life together, loving and living, something we learned from our parents. As always the first day of this training is deeply moving. It is a reminder of how precious life is and how the color we see on the outside separates us with nothing more than the thickness of tissue paper, where underneath we all become the same. Different, who we are becomes clear. The shape of our life revealed in the flesh I am blessed to learn from. A master at teaching and guiding people in the journey of the body, Gil is one master you don’t want to miss. Some girls want jewelry, but me—I want another week with Gil exploring what I so love: the body. I pray you live in your body today, relishing every second, as life is short and someday we will all end up on the table.

I am waiting for the car to pick me up from the Glen Elen Lodge. Three glorious walking among the most elegant of creatures. Walking “with”. Robin Gates is a true leader. One who leads with such love and conviction in her life, from the work she does with horses to her personal relationship. Sheer mastery. Never does she force, she merely sets intention, holds her boundary and is in relationship “with” the horse, the world, me and the horses of many colors and personalities. My highlight was standing among these six horses, all who could have killed me. Standing in stillness, allowing them to smell my face and linger. My hear pounding. My spirit reminding me to center, ground, and to allow myself to be in their company and in their world. I was-in their world. Watching them in nature„ in their nature, doing what they are coded to do. The deep strength, stillness, vulnerability, love was at times, overwhelming. We seemed to trade off playing with vulnerability and leadership, and in the end, I understood that what they wanted most from me was for me to lead! Now if I can only apply this to my work and life it will amazing.Thank you Robin Gates. Thank you Randee Fox. Thank you to all the horses that showed up for me to show up. Thank you Debbie for your courage. It took a lot.

Yesterday was day one, of a three day training I was gifted by trainer Randee Fox. An avid horse person, Randee and I have had many conversations about training the body and training horses, and their similarities. At Wisdom Quest White Belt graduation for the next generation trainers Randee approached me about coming to this unique horse whisper training. As I am always interested in learning about communication, I couldn’t resist, not to mention spending time with Randee, and being in one of the most gorgeous places in the world: Sonoma, California. What did I learn. True communication is silent, it is intentional and energetic. I learned how Nia is amazing training and preparation for communicating with anything. I learned that being in your body gives you the confidence to stand your ground with these amazing creatures who certainly could kill you. I learned that thinking and holding intent, the thought of “move your left leg back,” is something the horse hear and do when I send the message with clarity. It was magic. I felt like I was speaking to God. How incredible it is to be with these creatures, not ride them, but be with them, in their space, on the land, free, just standing and accompanying them. I learned that running a company as a CEO is best done in the same way I led the horses. Knowing how to draw them in, to ask for my space, to intend stop, and go, and just at the right time-wow. Most of all, I learned how to listen on a level much deeper than I ever have. Was the listening enhanced by the fear of death and, or injury? Certainly. I’m small, they’re big. They are powerful, but so am I, and herein lies the lesson. Leadership, leading through shared respect and power with the intent to love them, and communicate from the environment I am responsible to create: love-wow. It was an amazing day of meeting, greeting, walking with, standing with, leading, starting and stopping and having these amazing animals with me, and me with them. I was one with. Walking forward with five huge horses walking behind me, fearlessly-wow. These animals are free to be, to roam on the property, as it should be. Watching them (7) all play with each other-no words can describe what it looks like to see horses in their element. Off for day two and so excited. Thank you Randee!

Today was a blast. Coffee in bed then off to workout old style, which I love, because I love moving my body. I’m in Marin County, California, the birth place of Nia. Here they have an amazing fitness club called the Bay Club, just one that is owned by the Western Athletic Club. They rock it. Having been in some of the best clubs around the world I can tell you, “The Bay Club is a top notch club”. What made it fun was going as a guest with my daughter Jessica (AKA my assistant). Thirty minutes was the challenge on the Elliptical to burn calories and then 10 minutes on the treadmill. I must admit I was nervous. It’s been a long time since I wore tennis shoes! It’s been a long time since I worked out on a machine for cardiovascular conditioning. It’s different than Nia. Sustaining a consistent heart rate, the same movement, my body felt the demand to do something it was not used to. Then there’s the really fun part. It’s the first time I worked out and watched TV, “The View”. I liked it. I used to criticize it, but I can tell you it was a great distraction when I thought my heart was going to power through my chest, when at 10 minutes I wondered if I could do the 30 minutes. What did I learn? I love working out. I love the feeling of challenging my body at my age. I love regular fitness, as it is where I came from. I love working out in a beautiful environment packed with people doing it, really doing it, reaching potential, pushing their edge. I loved the man next to me listening on his headphones, conducting in space as he climbed. I imagined he was a real orchestra conductor! I loved that fact that I had no idea what a challenge it was to coordinate climbing, watching TV, keeping the headphones in my tiny ears, managing correct posture, adding my Nia knowledge to keep myself relaxed, and moving dynamically, and figuring out how to grab the water bottle, open the lid, drink and put it back in the holder without falling down. It’s a lot to handle. Now if you ask Jessica what was the funniest thing I imagine she’ll tell you that when I got on the treadmill she caught me walking too far back, and I almost fell off. I saw this happen on the biggest loser and wondered how anyone could fall off. Now I know. I’ve moved on and I’m at one of my favorite places in Marin: Woodlands Cafe. Healthy food, sunlight, eggs, and great company-Jess and Me. Tonight we will paint her hutch in her apartment and tomorrow back to the gym!