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OK, so I write this entire blog post about life is magic and everything just falls into place when you believe in the universe and blah blah blah, right? Well, no less than three days after I post it, the universe decides – oh, tricky universe! – to challenge me! Can I believe the magic? Can I believe my own crap?

The answer is always YES.

YES! The answer is always yes.

So, yeah, the captain who I was going sailing with had what I can put gently as an existential crisis and decides he no longer wants to sail south down island, toward Panama, through the canal and across the Pacific Ocean … at least not any time soon. Sure, I could have moved on to the boat, but it wasn’t really leaving St. Thomas. And it’s a big bad world out there. My wanderlust was bubbling up and fast.

I had already found a new tenant for my apartment (well, after the first girl flaked out on me and got me scrambling and remembering the magic). I was pretty stoked at the idea of getting my entire security deposit and last month’s rent back in cold hard cash. It didn’t make sense to back out of that, even though I didn’t know where I was going next. My friend, who was out of town, had let me use her car while we were both tag-team house-sitting for her friend. So suddenly I had all my possessions, which were packed in a way that made sense only to move on to a boat, in the back of her Honda. And I, for all intents and purposes, was homeless.

Homeless, but honest.

But not a sad, oh no, poor Suzanne homeless. It was actually OK. Because I decided to collaborate with my mind and believe my own crap!

I stayed for a day or two with a friend, then I stayed with another friend who lived in St. John during their Carnival. Then I headed over to the friend who let me borrow her car; she was moving into a new place and needed help unpacking, putting furniture together and running errands while she also started her new, fast-paced job that involved a big learning curve. It was (well, is) a mutually beneficial situation, with her letting me crash in a corner of her living room as I worked to reduce my possessions by selling, giving away and digitizing. And in between getting my life down to whatever I can carry, I did her laundry, ran her trash to the dumpster and organized her new apartment, which overlooks the ocean on a peaceful hill swarming with iguanas and birds.

From the DVD: Suzanne’s Guinness Mirror Music Practice When Really She Should Be Working

And she let me borrow something else as well: her ukulele. It was the first time I had ever picked up a string instrument with any sort of attempt to play. I’ve played percussion for a while and have always loved singing (hey, I was even lead in a musical!). I grew up as my brother played guitar, and my mother is even taking guitar lessons now. But I never had music lessons. But just watch how that frowny face turns into a big smile. A literal changing of the tune!

I have always loved music, and now I am finding so much joy in playing and singing with myself. For the first time, I do not need anyone to accompany me. This is huge. As a strong, independent female, I am realizing that … I am a strong, independent female! Whoa. Who’s a big girl now? This one.

So even though some (cough:family) may fear the universe is kicking me around – and even for a day or so I thought the same thing – the reality is that my crap remains true: This is all happening exactly the way it’s supposed to. I needed time to divest (even further, if you can believe) my possessions, to further gain independence and find a new something in my life that brings me joy and confidence.

What’s next? That’s the $64,000 question that everyone is asking me. I know it’s a rad adventure, I’ll tell you that. I’m guaranteeing smiles for miles! But in which direction? Ah, faithful readers know: It’s however the wind is blowing.

As a freelance writer and yoga teacher, often times I get to set my own work schedule. For years, I worked in offices, usually the old 9-to-5. I wore heels, suits and mascara. Toward the end of my office life, I drifted toward wedges and no makeup. Anyone who was watching could see I was slowly but surely heading toward simply not caring what

Suzanne Wentley: Young Professional

others thought of me. But I tried to hide it.

I was a young professional. For a while, I was working four days, 10 hours a day. Before that, I had a 32-hour work week. Before that I worked what felt like all the time … although I was always careful to track my hours and receive the appropriate amount of “paid time off.” Ah, PTO. Benefits, what a beautiful thing! Wow, I even had a pension. Remember those? That’s something that I’ll never be able to say again! Can the same be said for health insurance? Probably.

For some office jobs I worked in a cubicle. One job found me in a cubicle in a hallway for a while (such was the non-profit life). For a couple jobs, I had offices with a door. For a short time, my office was ridiculously large, and I’d joke that I could roller skate in it. Faithful followers of this blog know that I skate like a champ.

But even with these office jobs with benefits, I was always working more than one job. There was a while there when I was working 40 hours a week, teaching seven yoga classes a week and writing three or four freelance magazine articles each month. Somehow I was also able to date men (who were wrong for me, but that’s another blog post) and hang out with my friends. I was late for everything that wasn’t a class I was teaching or an interview for a magazine assignment. I had stress acne. It kind of sucked.

So it was great when I met a guy who offered me a spot on his boat for a while to go sailing. I quit my office job, my yoga classes and my local freelance assignments, and we left for the seas. I became part of the new economy – I learned how to work remotely. I started researching magazines that might like stories about my boating adventures. I found an online agency looking for copywriters. I hustled.

Me at the gym. I guess this is as good as it gets, people. I could do 50 pushups, so there’s that.

Since my overhead was so low, I was also able to relax. Every day before I set sail, I went to the gym. I then ran a couple miles. I scheduled in a 30-minute nap every day. I did yoga and baked bread. I gave away all my heels and suits.

That was almost two years ago, and guess what? I’m still alive! I haven’t starved! In fact, I haven’t even dipped into my savings. Sure, I’ve got a groovy, little studio apartment now (read: rent), but I now live in a place where I don’t need to buy things all the time. I don’t spend money on new clothes until my old clothes wear out. Rum is $7 a bottle. I buy bok choy on the corner from the farmer for $2. What more does a girl need?

So this was the backdrop of today, when I found myself without a whole lot of work. I wrote a press release. Three of my clients were reviewing work I had already done and hadn’t yet gotten back to me. I have a few projects in the pipeline, but nothing due today. I had a freelance article I needed to edit, but I’m not sure exactly where to do with it. Even though I relaxed most of my Sunday, as one should do, I suddenly found myself with an abundance of time.

I turned on music. My friend just hooked me up with The Codetalkers with Col. Bruce Hampton (RIP). I grabbed my hula hoop and went outside to my big deck and got down. I hadn’t hooped in so long! The sun was shining and glistening down on the shiny tape of my hoop. I was digging the music and dancing around my hoop for no one to see. It felt great! It was playtime, and we all simply do not get enough of it.

Unless you are a cigarette smoker, taking breaks is generally frowned upon. There’s no office where it’s normal to take a hoop break! Some office workers I know will walk around the building. One job I had, part of my duties involved walking a super-cute

Look at that smile! Ozzie and I took breaks together.

English bulldog, and that was a pretty good break (except when Ozzie would sneak a chicken bone left on the side of the parking lot! Bad doggie!). Breaks are only OK when you’ve scheduled a vacation – and don’t get me wrong, during my office days I enjoyed every single one of my vacation days! But taking a break during the day is a luxury for the working stiff.

I still eat lunch at the computer. I’m doing it right now! Even though I set my own schedule, my work ethic is such that I continually feel the need to be productive. But when we’re productive all the time, we miss out. In yogic terms, we are too rajas.

Breaks help us connect to our creative and spiritual selves. All my best problem-solving came from meditation breaks. My best writing and marketing ideas came as a result of down time. The more breaks we have, the better our work.

So consider this a call for play! Bring recess back into your life! Sometimes I pull out my djembe and sing. Sometimes I put on music and dance. Sometimes I call my mom and chat. The other day, I put down my work and painted my toenails and watched the new Louis CK special on Netflix. It’s hilarious.

We all know stress is the enemy – so make it your job to get rid of it in your life. Take more breaks. Play more, smile and, for the love of God, wear only comfortable shoes!

It had been a few weeks that I hadn’t been propelled by the wind. I’ve been walking, biking, taking public transport. I’ve been swimming and floating, catching rides and waves, skipping and even jumping from places that maybe were a little too high. But I needed to make the wind move me.

I haven’t always been a sailor, but I am now. My first time on a sailboat was college, when my best friend’s father took us out on the Long Island Sound. I grew up in a landlocked state, but I was always a waterbaby. Life with time made me more comfortable with diving in head-first and deep.

Living aboard a sailboat was tough, so I’m writing from a sun-kissed studio apartment

The view steps from my apartment – yes, that is a man swimming with a horse past sailboats.

that overlooks a mooring field in the tropics. It pained me to leave the boat, because I am completely (head over heels) in love with the idea of having such freedom as to move to different countries and ports whenever the winds are right. For a while, the winds were simply not blowing in my favor. Now they are.

Last week, I was blessed with a generous and caring friend who invited me out on his catamaran to sail the British Virgin Islands. Although I live so close to this magical little archipelago, I had yet to visit. But beyond just experiencing new places and people, I yearned to feel the wind whipping through my long hair, sun on my face, the sea spray on my skin.

It was everything I dreamed. As the high clouds burned away, the Caribbean unveiled the perfect winds for three – count ’em! – three spinnaker runs. My captain showed me

YES! Spinnaker up and we’re cruising.

how to hoist this asymmetrical sail, which pulls a vessel through the water with winds from the stern, rather than cut across the wind’s angle. Attaching it to a halyard, we lifted the chute of the sail to the top of the mast and then opened it up to unveil the perfect tool to let the wind move us.

Who needs a motor when nature is there to help? I think this is why I love sailing so. It reminds me to literally go with the flow, that life can be easy when you let it. For the years I was sailing from the states through the northern reaches of the Caribbean, it was a battle. We were constantly going the wrong direction, struggling to get to a location where we could drop our anchor and take a break. But it felt like the break never came. It was always an anxious search for a place to shelter from potential storms or grasping for a place where my captain could make money. We were creating challenges where abundance and peace should be. It was moving against the wind.

Such is life, yes … it can’t always be easy. But in order to find happiness, we must look for the easy. How is life encouraging us to flow? Where are the winds to our back? This does not mean living within the comfort zone – quite the opposite! It means searching for the signs that present themselves for us to naturally progress. The sail through the BVIs normally happened in the opposite direction for my friend, but we changed plans and sailed around the chain of islands “backward.” And guess what? It was perfect.

For those who read The Lovelight Project blow, you know that the last few years have

Feeling on top of the world at The Baths in Virgin Gorda, BVIs

been challenging for me. I spent a lot of time confronting myself and my limits, unveiling who I am from the thick veneer of ego that was built by years of letting the winds bypass me. Salt air has a way of breaking things down. When I look back on my life, there have been many times when I thrust myself into uncomfortable, challenging situations in a desperate and necessary attempt to grow. And every time, eventually, I found my wind.

Lately, I’ve been noticing the more I grasp for something, the less I get. The more I accept the world as it is – acknowledge the way the wind blows and put up the right sail – the simpler and easier life is. Last week in the BVIs, we were one of a very few vessels that even had a spinnaker sail. You have to own and develop the right tools in your life to catch the right wind.

Where do the right winds blow me? I seek to get to a place where I have no worries, where I am constantly surrounded by love, propelled naturally to my next, new adventure filled with miracles. Dozens of people around me have been embracing big changes, with new jobs, relationships and experiences. It’s beautiful, and it makes me wonder what the winds have in store for me.

If we stay true to who we honestly are and fully accept the winds of life, we are all in the perfect place for our special breeze to propel us. All we have to do is set the sails.

Living in the Virgin Islands, it’s a different culture. In fact, it’s a lot of different cultures. I see it every day when I’m catching a Safari, which is the public transport open-air trucks that zip me to where I need to go for $2. Some times when I’m waiting at the Safari stop, I’ll see one approaching and put out my arm to wave it down. But it doesn’t stop. Why?

“I see white people.” That is, it’s filled with white tourists and not the every day working

Here’s my cousin Katherine as the only other white person on the Safari.

people who I normally sit next to. Those vehicles cost 10 times as much as what I and every other working stiff on island is used to paying. The drivers, somehow, can spot the difference between me and the tourist.

Of the approximately 50,000 people who live here, most are black people who are collectively known as “West Indians.” I am new enough that I can’t really tell the difference, but there are many. There are those who are locally born and raised, and then there are those from Jamaica, St. Lucia, Dominican Republic, St. Kitts, Trinidad and elsewhere. One time I was on a Safari with a woman who obviously felt late for the ferry, and she started screaming at a women who, she thought, was making her even later. She ended her rant with, “I’m from St. Lucia! You all need to know this!”

So many differences, just in our neighbors. And, if you look for it, you can find even more differences. For example, if I enter a store and do not say “Good morning” or “Good afternoon,” or the odd greeting of “Good night,” then I am ignored. It doesn’t matter what color I am; I’m considered rude if I do not say these magic words. It’s pretty easy to find people with a big chip on their shoulder here. There are so many people who have been done wrong and are now simply waiting for the next shoe to drop. These folks are protecting themselves by building walls.

This isn’t my style. I greatly prefer to find the similarities in people. For example, I am friends with a group of West Indians who hang out by their trucks near the corner where I turn to walk back to my apartment. These guys are really nice. Curtis sells beers and rum infused with greens (he calls it bush rum, and it is STRONG); even though I try to pay him when he offers me a shot, he never accepts my money. Instead, he accepts my conversation and smile. Maxim owns the Laundromat in town. He is a kind, older man who was shelling peas one day as we chatted about health. It seems he has fallen arches, which cause him a lot of pain. But we talked about our relationship with God, and when I saw him after his doctor appointment, we hugged at the news that he was otherwise completely healthy. Peter works construction with Curtis. He laughed when I told him about how I used to work at This Old House magazine, and part of my job, as a 20-year-old, was to answer Bob Villa’s emails. I met a Rasta named Yellow. We have a mutual

See Curtis on the right. He led me over to this truck of awesome, farm-fresh cucumbers, which he pronounced “kookaburras.”

friend.

Another thing in common? The love of good, local food. So when the truck pulled up with buckets of freshly picked cucumbers, they led me right over to buy some with them. In their accent, they pronounced cucumbers as “kookaburras.” Yet another example of how differences are actually similarities.

I like looking for the same, because it’s everywhere. A hatred of the current president. The love of the ocean. The belief in helping others and finding joy in life. We all want this, regardless of what we look like, where we came from and how we pronounce “cucumbers.”

So, do you find yourself looking for differences or sameness? Are you fearful of those who are different than you? Because difference can be scary. We don’t know the culture, what they expect or think. Who knows how their mamas raised them. I’ve met many people, though, who seem a lot like me, and I come to find out their mamas didn’t raise them right at all.

I encourage you to look around at people you meet and decide they are just like you. As a newspaper journalist, I quickly realized that the janitors, secretaries, bailiffs and other marginalized people were much more important to my work than those who carried a title. I made it a point to address politicians by their first names, just like I did their assistants. I want to view everyone as equal to me, because they are.

It’s lazy to decide that one person is different or better because of something as simple as looks or style. I’d much rather expand my world by accepting different types of people into my life. That’s why I’m constantly looking for the same. Because we are all one, aren’t we? We’re all part of this beautiful universe, working together to provide each other opportunities for growth. So those who challenge me and those who support me, I thank you both. To me, you are friends on my path, and we are the same.

Almost every day, we are asked a version of this question: Who Are You?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tf5nCPFBSHw

Oh, me? I’m a female. I’m a writer. I’m a vegetarian, a yogini, a fan of a good cup of coffee.

Yes, I’m definitely not a male … unless you are referring to when I was a little kid and my working mom, in an effort to save time, would have my hair cut like a little boy’s. I remember that time in the convenience store when an older man mistook me for a boy.

Tomboy, the magazine. Talk about a niche market!

I’m a writer … but then I guess I’m also a dancer, a singer, a drummer, an artist and, sometimes, a reader who enjoys just chilling on the couch.

I’m a yogini, sure. But sometimes I drink alcohol. Don’t tell the coffee fan part of my personality about that!

So, who am I? Who are you?

It’s really a lot of the work we do as humans, trying to answer that question. As someone who travels frequently, lots of people ask where I’m from, as if I identify with that. I usually reply, “Oh, over there,” and point to the sailboat where I’m living on the water. Do you really need me to explain that I was born in Pennsylvania, then I lived in New York City for a while for school, then I moved to Florida … I mean, as if that has anything to really do with who I am!

Sure, some people do identify with geography, rooting for sports teams and keeping an accent long after leaving. But that’s not me. I honored all the places I’ve lived and visited, but those places aren’t me.

Lately with the inauguration, people are identifying with their political bent. So often I

Sports fans … when you are depressed because someone else lost a game across the nation, you may want to reevaluate your concept of identity.

encountered someone who was so steadfastly confident in their point of view that they refuse to even entertain a different one. They are placing their entire being in an American political party; while I obviously have a point of view, I don’t identify so strongly with a side that I wish ill on the other side.

It’s so easy to separate from others when we try to figure out who we are. We’re not this, we’re not that. And then it’s a slippery slope, isn’t it: I HATE that, I LOVE this. You are wrong, I am right. Period.

But life really isn’t like that. There’s black and there’s white, and then there is finding joy in the gray. In college, while in the midst of an uncomfortable conversation with two troubled roommates who decided to drop out of college and get their own apartment without me, I was accused of “living in a world of absolutes.” It took me a long time to know what the hell she was talking about.

I guess she was right. At one point in my life, I did find it simple and easy to identify with labels: Phi Beta Kappa, Lacto-Ovo Vegetarian, Deadhead. It’s handy shorthand to say stuff like, hey, I’d like the tofu veggie dish, please. But as I started to drill down the concept of my own identity, many of those labels started to unravel.

Sure, I still love Jerry Garcia’s guitar skills. But I don’t own any more tie-dye. I ate fish last year in an unsuccessful attempt to, well, eat fish. I’m smart but damn if I can get my emotional intelligence on point! Exactly who do I think I am?

Be Authentic!

In yoga, it’s actually pretty simple. I am you. Yes, you. Every single person (millions! Haha) reading this blog post. I am a loving being who is lovable, unique and beautiful. Think you know someone who isn’t? Chances are they’re hiding a part of who they really are. That’s why it’s so important to be kind to every person and view each interaction as an opportunity for growth.

I recently had a very interesting interaction with a fellow yoga teacher who ended up lying to me when she changed her mind and asked someone else to take over her classes. It’s certainly her prerogative as an independent business owner to change her mind, but a yogini being untruthful spun me. I had to confront my own reaction to it and determine what I could learn. I realized I needed to be more professional when asked to commit my time; I knew I was trustworthy, so I simply put the dates in my calendar and called it a day. But she did not know that I’ve never missed a yoga class.

I realized that I need to look closer at my own truth, too. Part of that includes understanding who I am and accepting others as part of who I am. This means increasing compassion, or, as I like to say, digging deep into that endless pit of compassion we all have within. Just when we think we’re hitting the bottom, there’s more down there. Just keep digging, and we’ll discover how similar we truly all are.

OK, OK. So the first thing you’re going to realize is that this blog post has been shared on social media. And here is a whole blog about taking a break from social media! IT MAKES NO SENSE … or does it?

I have been feeling at a loss lately, with the new year now just a couple days in. So many people I knew and loved were undergoing big, beautiful changes in their lives. And yet, I felt stuck. I already made big changes, having sold all my stuff, left the small town I was living in and loving, said goodbye to so many wonderfully supportive friends. I went

Buddha says, our problem is that we think we have time. Unless we are a zombie. Didn’t think of that, did ya Buddha?

sailing, traveled and lived in places I couldn’t have imagined just a couple years ago. But now what?

So often, when one completes a major project – like organizing a wedding, getting ready for a baby or making a move professionally – there’s a bit of a letdown when it’s all over. We did all this busy work, and here we are: still in our own skin, still looking at ourselves in the mirror.

Four years ago, a five-point personal plan came to me during meditation. I was working for a small government agency that was up for referendum. It was a make-or-break vote, and it was my job to get it passed. No pressure, right? I realized that if, due to the will of the Gods, it didn’t pass, I would be personally and professionally destroyed. I couldn’t let that be. (It did, by the way!)

So I created a plan to create skills and set myself up for success. First, I would renew my real estate license. I was debating it, but I figured what the heck. That was easy; the 40-hour class was completed online over a weekend. Next, I decided I would become a Reiki Master. I had worked with Reiki energy for about a decade at that point but only at the second of four levels. I was being called to teach. Along those lines, I decided to get my Yoga teacher certification. Step four: “Something with food.” I decided to try veganism

My 5-Point Plan of 2013 looked absolutely nothing like this. And I look nothing like this guy. So there.

and am still interested in returning to this challenging diet and sharing vegetarianism in a meaningful way. And the final step was to figure out where I wanted to move, and move there.

Done and done. I am a Reiki master, Yoga teacher and marketing professional (The real estate? Not so useful) living currently in the Virgin Islands. I’ve catered vegetarian dinners and committed to intermittent fasting for the last 10 months, and it’s helped me feel better and heal my relationship with food. So, now what?

I started asking myself this in meditation again, and I have discovered – in spite of renewal that comes from working for myself and teaching Yoga – I was exhausted. I was exhausted from trying to create psychological breathing room for myself. I was exhausted by creating a carefree façade for my well-meaning friends and family. I was exhausted by the challenging, alternative lifestyle I had chosen for myself. I needed a break.

Even as it allowed me to connect with those who loved and supported me, Facebook was just not helping. I was endlessly confronted with people gloating about the election or, from the completely other side of the spectrum, happily ignoring politics as they showed off their beautiful, loving families. So many of my friends got married, got engaged and had babies this year. I’m truly, truly so extremely happy for them.

But as studies show, Facebook was giving me an opportunity to compare my B-roll with

When the most meaningful interaction is a frown face emocon. Ouch.

everyone else’s A-roll. And I’m sure others felt that way about my news feed. I felt like a fraud, acting completely happy because I was expected to. Crying a snotty mess during a fabulous deep tissue massage last week, I knew something big had to change.

So I made a move: No more Facebook. I shared my contact information (It’s [email protected]! Connect with me!) and took the app off my phone. I’m simply not checking it any more. As a marketing professional, this feels weird, but stepping out of the comfort zone is exactly what helped propel me into the next stratosphere of life last time. Hopefully it will be the first step this time.

With the time I would have normally spent checking social media, I am starting to create other plans for 2017. I’m going to do things that bring me happiness: writing more, cultivating my independence, doing more Yoga and meditation, rediscovering my own power. I am hopeful that by making space in my life, releasing myself from my own news feed of life, I will increase my capacity for good – for everyone, not just me. Then perhaps my break will, in turn, bring more happiness to others. Now that is a resolution I can get behind!