According to the American Psychological Association, May is Mental Health Month. I’m taking this opportunity to thank all of the wonderful teachers and therapists who helped me to heal so profoundly, from panic attacks that had haunted me for decades. I’d also like to thank all of the people who’ve written to me, sharing their stories honestly and courageously. It’s very hard to speak out. But it’s harder to feel alone. Writing my book, exploring and exposing my pain, has brought me to a very happy place, and I am very grateful to everyone who helped me get here. This picture of my son Jack is one of my favorite definitions of happiness:
1) Pin the LEARNING TO BREATHE cover to one of your own Pinterest boards.
2) In your pin description include: “I’ve pinned it to win it from @Priscilla Warner.”
Priscilla Warner will select 10 pinners at random to win a copy of LEARNING TO BREATHE in paperback. You can enter as many times as you want but can win only once.
General contest rules: To enter, you must be a U.S. resident and at least 18 years of age. You must participate on Pinterest. No purchase necessary. Winners will be randomly selected and announced on Pinterest. Void where prohibited. Contest will end May 18, 2012 at 12 am PST.
Roshi Pat Enkyo O’Hara, a Zen teacher in New York City, taught me about the significance of cherry blossoms in Asian culture.
“The Japanese see cherry blossoms as a symbol of our lives,” Roshi explained. “They come at the very early part of the spring, when it’s cold. Their beauty makes you want to cry.”
I thought of how much I love meditating beneath the cherry blossoms in my front yard.
“One of the reasons why we cry is that these blossoms are so ephemeral,” Roshi continued. “They will fall,” she said simply. “And to watch the cherry blossoms fall is like watching ourselves die. We start off young and beautiful. Then we become middle-aged and beautiful in a different way. Eventually we’re old and beautiful, and finally we’re dead and beautiful.”
Last year, I was very busy during cherry blossom season. This year, my battle with bronchitis has forced me to slow down. I’ve been very conscious of the nuances of my body’s healing process. And every day I’ve checked the trees in my front yard to see what they’re thinking and feeling as well.
According to the American Psychological Association, May is Mental Health Month. I’m taking this opportunity to thank all of the wonderful teachers and therapists who helped me to heal so profoundly, from panic attacks that had haunted me for decades. I’d also like to thank all of the people who’ve written to me, sharing their stories honestly and courageously. It’s very hard to speak out. But it’s harder to feel alone. Writing my book, exploring and exposing my pain, has brought me to a very happy place, and I am very grateful to everyone who helped me get here. This picture of my son Jack is one of my favorite definitions of happiness:
