What you want most right now might not turn out to be what you actually want. This is a big deal when you start telling me about your hopes and dreams to go to XYZ school, and no way would you go to LMNOP school, because you want QRS for sure. You intend to write a convincing essay about that future. You want to be sound like you know. In our essay writing sessions, we do some digging under the narrative of what you want. Sometimes real personal growth lies in the other direction from what your mind has been fixated on. How do you know what you want? Let me tell you a little personal story. Way back before the towers fell, and New York City went into a post-terror slump, I knew I wanted to train to be a yoga teacher. In my final spring at Brown University, I had studied intensively with a great teacher. Everyone should be so lucky. Of all the days spent on the sweat-slick mat, I remember one particularly: after a 2 hour practice, in complete silence on the meditation cushions, a student let out a hefty fart. The whole room erupted in laughter, as if we were but 12 years-old. (This is why I love, and will always serve, 12 year-olds.) That no one chastised us, made us feel immature or small, let me know that I was in the right kind of room, with the right kind of people, reaching the right kind of enlightenment. One that wouldn't exclude the basic pleasures of human life, or frown too hard on the physical bodies we really have, in all their less than perfect moments. In New York City, I practiced near the school where I taught Latin, skipping my lunch period to get chakras cracking. When I told my exquisite instructor I was interested in doing a training, she (who is now is a full time commercial real estate agent and brings equanimity, or at least compromise, to the roots of all aggression that way) recommended an infamous "teacher of teachers", Alison West. This teacher stopped me in my tracks Over the phone, Alison's communication was Continue Reading …