feel things.

There is so much freedom in letting yourself feel. My emotions can be overwhelming at times, so my instinct is often to suppress them. When my eyes are prickling with tears, I swallow the lump again and again. When I'm filled to the tip-top with excitement and passion, I speak softly - I even whisper. I am dismissive of deep happiness and deep sadness because they shake me and make me feel vulnerable.

Somewhere in the last few years, something made me realize that the beauty of true experience, of awareness and presence, is worth it. I commit myself to bearing witness to the details of life.

Last year, I was lucky enough to work with the founder of YouthBuild, Dorothy Stoneman. She is a force to be reckoned with, a tornado of passion and belief in the future of young people. Someone asked her last year how she dealt with all the negative experiences and emotions she must encounter. You can't be a revolutionary without facing the suffering and wrong in the world. Her answer, her tool for coping, was this: I try to cry at least an hour a week, and sometimes, when things get rough it has to be an hour a day.

I will never forget that piece of wisdom. The way through the challenge of life is not to numb yourself, but to let yourself truly feel the grief and sorrow, right along with the happiness and joy. That's not an easy lesson to learn.

Yesterday I felt sad, so I sat on my couch and cried. I couldn't work up an appetite, so I ate cereal for dinner. I wrote wild and dark in my notebook, and doodled for a whole page instead of putting down words.

Today, I feel hope, so I'm blasting this mix over the sounds of my washer and dryer (my god they're loud) and letting the cacophony swim in my head. I am letting myself feel gratitude and letting myself dance around my kitchen while holding my bowl of pasta coated in this artichoke tapenade.

My life is so insanely good. I have two beautiful nephews, one of whom is old enough to call me Zisa and tell me he loves me. The work I do every day helps women who are homeless turn their lives around. My amazing friends remind me to be who I am and to keep creating, no matter what. And every night, when I hear Jacob's key in the door, no matter how late it is, my heart leaps because, literally every single day, I can't wait to see him.

My refrain for many months has been that is enough. But really, it is.

By the by, I can't get enough of this lady's fantastically written food blog and I can't stop thinking about Jad Abumrad's gut churn. Check it.