Kaizen

Re – Connect

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11/26I spent Thanksgiving this year with family (grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins) in New Jersey that I hadn’t seen in years.  I’ve spent so much time on this swift cycle of work travel and investment into friendships and relationships in Los Angeles, I forgot how easy it is to distance your life from the people who still love you when you’re at your least finest,...
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Velma (because otherwise I might receive a death threat).

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I tend to think it’s a cultural thing.  Asian/Indian cultures just tend to embrace you as a nomad.  We all deeply love our friends, and even when we don’t speak for months, we can laugh, smile, and banter so immediately.  I definitely don’t feel that culture in Los Angeles.  As much as I love the city, I don’t feel my heart beating ever.  I spoke...
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Comfort- able in NYC

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I spent the last weekend in New York. It is amazing, how this big city sucks you in and makes me feel small, yet completely at home.   I stayed with friends in Chelsea, my friends from DC…essentially family. I didn’t have to ask, or feel bad, or even think I was overstaying my welcome.  They actually wanted me there (or so they made me feel). ...
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You make me Smile.

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I saw close friends of mine today and I remembered how much I miss that feeling of true admiration and respect.  There is something to be said about connections, of a heart moving towards yours, of absolute love for somebody so different than oneself. We sat together in a circle, and it felt like when we had first met as we reminisced about our pasts, about...
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Lost in Translation

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My memories of Paris involve dancing.  Sitting in a dark jazz club in the heart of Paris, an assembly of 17 and 18 year old inexperienced voyeurs were blooming, facing raw culture in the eye, and feeling the elements of gypsy jazz in their souls.  A coming of age story of sorts.The 18 year old version of me for the first time wasn’t looking around...
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Fall-ing Back

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I woke up this morning to the sunlight competing with the color from the leaves of the trees. It smelled like chimney smoke, cinnamon, and incense. I felt like a child again: walking around the neighborhood with my pumpkin filled with candy and a few tricks up my sleeve.Work brings me to St. Louis, a town I don't get to visit often, but when I...
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The beginning of my blog journey

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I grew up a writer.  I remember the scents of cinnamon hot chocolate, and hiding out on my twin sized bed, snuggling up to the latest new novel series: Little House of the Prairie, Anne of Green Gables, Nancy Drew...I couldn't get enough.  My mother would knock on my door, and when I wouldn't answer, she would abruptly walk in and scold me for reading. ...
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