© 2021 Copyright DanielleLaPorte
I’m about to make a major admission of error. I am hereby fessing up to a seriously flawed paradigm that has informed much of my adult life, and, (crap, sorry, apologies in advance,) too much of what I’ve espoused. Like most speakers, I have a pre-presentation ritual…
Sacred Reading: Mark Nepo is our generation’s Rumi. What a blessing that his beautiful book of deep thinking was given to Oprah as a gift and the rest is history. I bought ten copies for friends.
Your mother had the right idea: eat your dinner, there are children starving in the world.
This book analyzes the break downs in communication that kill love-read it before you fall in love… This one is required reading for Goddesses of all ages… And this one is, well, it’s a wild ride.
I’ve spent so many hours in psychotherapy, and retreats, and boardrooms clarifying my “needs” vs. “wants” vs. “the hungry ghost” vs. “healthy expectations” that when I “surrender” to someone else’s “way” it can feel like a stick in my spokes of dignity (and I paid a lot for that dignity.) Such is the foible of Western spirituality. Me first, You next…
Faith, whether it be in ourselves, God, Goddess, Buddha, Mohammad, or the powers of the Universe, is a potent and beautiful thing.
A drunk bum on the corner of Vaness & Market told me all I needed to know about parenting: Never, ever lie to them. It teaches them to lie.
I realized that most of my love was being poured outward, not homeward.
Every time I stop this autobahn-style schedule; rest for a day or so; take a day of silence & magic (and yes, I mean MAGIC) happens. Clients roll in; I have a productively inspiring dream…
Imagine a D-I-Y erotica degree based on the awareness of energy and breath and physiology and bliss. Where would you begin to look for knowledge? What would it take to earn and A++?
This is as inspiring as any Broadway musical I’ve seen. It’s so damn SWEET, I got weepy through the giggles.
So next time your mother is a bit… well, you know how she gets. Or your typically grouchy neighbor is a grouch. Or…
When you aim to shine, life pays proper attention to you–and that includes your lover boy (or girl.) And lest you think I’m taking the feminist movement back two decades, know that I expect that same Look Fine Commitment from my dude. He knows that his chances of getting lucky increase with spicy cologne and a pressed linen shirt. Even June Cleaver would swoon.
That uncomfortable silence after a friend has told you his bad news or a rant of how overwhelmed she is. Break ups and broken arms and melt downs. Even for our best friends we don’t always know what to say or do to make it better. We fumble to fill the space with salving words, or sometimes worse, with solutions. When really, all we need to do is ask…
“Tell me the truth, Frank, we used to live by it. And you know what’s so good about the truth? Everyone knows what it is however long they’ve lived without it. No one forgets the truth Frank, they just get better at lying.”
One of my wisest friends figures that it took about thirty years for him and his wife to simply be nice to each other. Now there is a euphoria in their familiarity.
Principles can wreak havoc in your life. The way is light and fluid for the man with no preferences. – Lao Tzu
Some of my clients used to send round the survey before their sessions with me, and it never ceased to amaze me how grateful people were for the experience of being seen and heard by someone who loves them. Try it.
What’s so interesting, or soothing, or sexy about the things that you gravitate towards. Go with the first thing that enters your mind, no matter how silly or grandiose it may seem.
People are where they are–despite our desire for them to be further along, more evolved, more fun, closer to our level, less intimidating, more relatable, easier to access, or simply more like us. If you take the desire for someone to be different out of the equation – you can meet them where they are. You can meet them in the real moment. You can meet them in their despair or their magnificence…
when you were bornmy days were suddenly full
of trees and apples of hope
and the machinations of terror
I am wondering if enlightenment relies on the forgiveness formula. As The Course in Miracles puts it, “Forgiveness is unknown in Heaven, where the need for it would be inconceivable”.
We crave it. We die for it. We try to pay for it. We aspire, we mire, we miss the mark. In the unending, coiling, incessant pursuit of being right and good enough to find love and get love and give love, we forget about the very nature of love itself.
I used to be angry and didn’t know why. Now I’m righteous but happy. In my twenties I WILLED it to happen. Now I allow it to happen. I used to need ritual. Now I just want the peace that lies beyond structure, even ritual.
And in just two years of homemade soups and desert and other bubbly things, we’ve gone through life-altering decisions, marriage melt downs, new babies, business epics, world travels, heart wrenching loss, and amazing successes. We would move mountains to help each other.
Sometimes, it’s best to compliment someone as a ‘drive-by’ or last minute gesture. I once walked up to a woman in a food court and said, “You look fucking fabulous.” She just about choked on her salad roll.
Salma Hayek breastfeeding an African baby: “When my daughter grows up, I’m going to make sure she continues to be a generous, caring person.” This is a boundary-breaking gesture. Love it.
Jerry makes me sad because I want Jerry to be able to shop by himself for peppers and brown rice and cook dinner for friends. I want him to fall in love and ride a motorcycle. I’d love for Jerry to be able to hold a pen and sign a cheque. But he can’t.
This is where many apologies can go south, when the hurt person says, “Yah, you totally screwed up, you’re a goof, and your mother dresses you funny.” Naturally, you may want to sling it back or retract even your best laid mea culpa. But just take a deep breath. You may have to endure a few pot shots and some venting; that is part of reconciliation.
Sorry is a powerful word that sends a very particular vibe to your brain. I’m careful how I use it. And when I do, I mean it with all my heart and I’ll do what ever I can to make things right. But I rarely regret things. I rarely pity people. And I’m almost never sorry for how I feel (thanks to a lot of therapy.)
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Audios are planted everywhere for you—like easter eggs. Dozens, refreshed regularly—from 30 second prayers, to long form sermons.
I co-create visualizations + meditations with an esoteric practitioner, drawing from a range of traditions. In spiritual speak: our kits are lit. I want the world to meditate.
I write to love. I write here weekly, I have a daily email of micro insight. If you want a monthly digest, we wrangle it. I think this is my most relevant book.
I’m so glad that you’re here.
I speak about self realization and how to extend that loving awareness to the collective. These are conversations to help us feel less alone, more heart centered, and very clearly part of the solution.
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