I’m not going to say WHO, but I will say WHAT…I noticed yesterday a few hits to my site pertaining to someone I know whose wife has the same cancer as me.  It’s not in the news…I checked.  But I do find it interesting that this NHL guy remembered I had done a post on “The Pink Elephant In The Room.”  It was a post where I announced a few years back what I’ve been struggling with since 2008…a reawakened cancer.

I haven’t really spoken too much about it since then.  Actually, I just don’t talk about it period.  I just look at each and every day like there is no tomorrow.  There is only today.

I’m actually glad that this person (that this post is for today) went looking for that post from a few years back.  It gave me an opportunity to re-read what was happening in my life then.  It also gave me a moment to reflect on how the past has helped to shape the future, i.e. my present day.

Back then, I was just discovering how important it was to go green.  My home has to be 100% green now.  In other words, only all natural products are used to clean my home.  Now, I’m not talking about those green cleaners you buy at the store.  Cleaners don’t have to list all of their ingredients.  Ergo, steer clear of green cleaners.  I use vinegar, water, baking soda and lemon juice (and essential oils) to mix my own all-natural and non-toxic cleaners.  The only green cleaner I will purchase is dish soap.  You can find a lot of recipes for green cleaning online.  Also, I’m still an adamant supporter of the book “Green This! Volume 1: Greening Your Cleaning” by Deirdre Imus.  If you have cancer, this is a must.  It not only teaches you how to go green at home, but it also explains how toxins in our environment aggravates and worsens cancer.

After I went green at home, I noticed that there was a huge change (especially in being able to breathe).  I could physically feel the change within 3-4 months.  It was a very good positive change.  Vinegar is my cure-all from cleaning to getting that warped heat stain out of my kitchen table to making the mirrors and windows shine to calming my stomach and using it as a cure-all in my foot bath to cure/prevent everything from cracked heels, nail fungus and even athlete’s foot.

The all-natural route has helped keep the toxins in my environment out of my home and out of my body.  I even take my clothes to a green dry cleaner to dry clean my clothes.

I’ve greened up my kitchen, taking out plastic and replacing them with glass, ceramic, stainless steel, cast iron, and bamboo products.  At the grocery store, I aim to buy all organic, chemical and antibiotic free meats, organic fruits/vegetables, organic dairy products made from local farms (like Stonyfield) and I try to limit processed foods. 

I subscribed to a magazine put out by Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. called “Clean Eating.”  Learning to eat clean has actually helped my budget, as well as taught me what types of food will help my body.

I’ve tried to do the five small meals a day and that’s a very hard thing for me to do.  It’s borderline torture to do that to myself.  I can’t eat that quickly, because by the time I finish one meal, it’s an hour or two later and I’m supposed to start on a new meal.  My doctor recommended that I just eat the two to three bites that I can, then wait the two hours.  That resulted in 300 calories per day.  You’re supposed to have a mandatory 800 calories a day in order for your body to function properly, so that little plan didn’t work when the red flags popped up across the board and they tried to admit me into the emergency room.  Trust me, they took all of the tests two times and they all came back in the RED ZONE both times. 

Over these past few years I’ve really had to re-learn how to eat.  If I could have my way, I’d live on coffee and be happy.  Now, I have to limit my coffee intake, boost protein by eating more eggs, fish and chicken.  No tofu or soy products.  Limited to ZERO bad starches.  I eat more dairy, but it can only be organic.  I eat greek yogurt.  I eat fruit only two times a week.  If I eat carbs, they are limited to only two times a week.  I eat veggies every chance I can get!

Trust me, I’m very limited in what I can eat, but I do find a way…or I elect to not eat.  It’s that latter part that usually gets me yelled at.  Lately, when I go out with the girls, I order soup.  It’s hot, it’s liquid and a little easier to get down (most of the time).  When I travel, I usually look for a grocery store and load up on things I can eat like tuna or nuts.  But most of all, I have to just listen to what my body is telling me to eat.  I let it tell me what it needs.

It took a while to tune in to the needs of my body.  I prefer to make my own meals because I know what’s going into the meal and I’ll sneak difficult foods into the dish like grated apples or mangoes…foods that usually induce vomiting if eaten the regular way.

But most of all…the practice of clean eating has helped me to have more good days than bad days.  I’m lucky because even if I don’t cook my own meals, I have access to a cafe where the chef uses the most qualitative organic ingredients in everything he makes.  I also have access to Fresh & Co.  The guys down there have been so great.  They’ve given away so many great free meals to me.  I love those guys there.

Do I eat clean all of the time?  No, not all of the time.  When I go out, it is a little hard to find a certified organic restaurant.  Those kinds of restaurants are very limited anywhere you go in the world.  So that means that I have to make good choices when dining out.

In Morocco, I ordered chicken tajine citron every single day.  I tried to have fish when I could.  I had rice a couple of times.  They made eggs for me every morning.  Everything in Morocco is all-natural.  There are no preservatives or toxins or antibiotics used.  Trust me, I asked before eating anything.

Back in 2009, I talked about not being able to work out.  That still rings true today.  I still get up in the morning and do what I can.  I do a mile every morning…walking or running.  Lately, because I had too much exposure to cigarette smoke in Europe, I’ve been limited to walking again because my lung has been having extreme difficulties.

Speaking of my lung, back then, we were just discovering what happened to my lung.  Today, it still hurts.  I still have problems breathing.  I’ve started making sure I stop when the lung is panicking.  I wait for it to kick in and realize that it’s getting air before pressing onward.  For me, that has been really hard.  It’s like admitting defeat.  Once upon a time I was strong.  I could keep up with the New York Rangers in the gym.  Now, I can’t even walk up a hill without the lung saying, “WTF?!” while going into uber shock…threatening to malfunction and stop.

It’s because the lung has panicked, malfunctioned and stopped that I now stop when I feel the first signs of that panic.  Trust me, I’ve blacked out in the middle of the street twice because I pressed on.  It’s scary.  The lesson I learned here was a hard one…I have to stop and listen to my body.

When I feel that ‘cancer’ feeling, I have to stop.  That feeling is no joke.  Sometimes I end up having to lay down and sleep for hours and hours.  Other times, my body demands that I eat something like spinach or tomatoes.  Whatever it needs, I have to do exactly what it tells me to do…or I’ll have a doctor in front of me saying that they are admitting me into the emergency room…in a non-green hospital.  {For a list of the top 10 green hospitals, CLICK HERE}

I actually know right now that I’ve graduated into the next phase.  I’ve been through all of the phases before.  The first time I had it, the doctor said she would have given me two weeks to live if they didn’t operate right then and there. 

I am very vocal about not taking drugs or doing chemo/radiation.  I refuse to have doctors pollute my body with toxins to ‘cure’ this cancer.  This cancer is hereditary.  My grandfather died in 2007 of the same cancer.  I’ve had 5 different doctors inform me that I will have cancer for the rest of my life.  It’s a matter of it being dormant or awake. 

I don’t believe that radiation or chemotherapy will help me.  I decided on taking an all-natural route.

When I was in Morocco, I was very open about the fact that I had cancer.  When I got ill…I had to explain that it was cancer related.  If I couldn’t eat…it was cancer related, not because I was trying to starve myself to be thin.  That cough…it’s cancer related because the cigarette smoke aggravated my lung.  My lung is sick due to it absorbing chlorine bleach vapors (like a sponge) during my surgery in 2008.  That is a side effect for people with cancer.  I almost died on the table because of this.  Since then, my lung hasn’t worked right.

I have never smoked a cigarette before in my entire life, but after the surgery, the nurse told me that my lungs were now that of a person who had been smoking for over 20 years.  That should tell you how bad my lungs are now…and I’ve NEVER smoked a cigarette a day in my life!  That is what chlorine bleach vapors did to my lungs.  That should also tell you how toxic chlorine bleach, as well as other toxic cleaners, are to people with cancer.

One of the main reasons why I’m moving to Morocco is because of the latest findings…both mine and from scientists.  I’ve already talked about my findings, but I also read recently that mole rats from the Sahara Desert cannot get cancer…even when injected with the strain multiple times.  Regular rats (not from the Sahara) can.  That led me to think…wait…mole rats and Berber Nomads from the Sahara Desert can’t get cancer…there must be something in the Sahara that prevents them from getting cancer.

It’s either a plant that they are eating, or it’s a lifestyle, or something about the Sahara (she is a very magical place) that prevents people and animals from getting serious illnesses.  What if the cure is there? 

Moving to Morocco…I’m doing it to give my body a fighting chance.  I’m lucky that the guy I fell in love with is a Berber medicine man too (and will help me through the illness).  It’s a learning curve for him (because cancer is a new illness to him), but he’s already tried out a few of his methods to help with a few of the symptoms…and it has worked. 

Perhaps there’s something tied in with how peaceful everyone is there…I’ve heard that people that have found complete inner peace have been healed from cancer.  I don’t know, but I’m going there myself to figure it all out.  Whatever I find, maybe it will help me, and in turn help others searching for a cure.

As for the book, I’m glad said NHL person was looking at that old post again.  It kind of reminded me that there was a journey…and cancer has been a huge part of finding happiness.  Like Driss said to me, “look back on your life…connect the dots…it’s very apparent God was leading you somewhere…to this very moment.”

All I can say is “Losing 100 Pounds of Unhappiness” is not ending the way you would think it would.  It’s ending in a way that will change the way you look at everything in life.  This journey really was about Losing Unhappiness in the end…the results of this project…not what I ever expected it to be.  The result is what changed my life forever and made me decide that I’m moving to Morocco and onto the next stage in my life.

Having cancer taught me to find strength when I was weak.  It taught me to listen to ME.  It helped me to find a more spiritual grounding with God.  Granted, it also pushed my mind into a whole new realm of awakening that helped me look at life in a new way. 

Cancer taught me to be brave and to be fearless.  It humbled me and scared me.  It’s taught me to admit to my own defeats, knowing that feeling defeated doesn’t meant that it has destroyed me, because I’m still standing. 

I also learned to live each day as if it is was my last.  Do anything and everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing, because you want to have a life filled with meaning.  You want to leave your mark in this world somehow…even if it is just touching the life of someone else for just a brief second…it’s that second they will remember for the rest of their life.

Lastly, cancer taught me how to live.  At the time I was first diagnosed and had the tumors removed, I had just left the rockstar.  Three months after being in NYC, I was lying on a table having three tumors removed from my back.  It took me five years to tell the rockstar what had happened after I left.  That was a difficult pill for him to swallow. 

There are times that I look at my idiot family and think…if I told them I have had cancer all of these years…would they be nicer to me?  But I look at my little brother and think…why do I even care?  All I care about is being happy.  That is more important to me than worrying about whether someone likes me or not.  If they do…they’ll tell me.  If they don’t…I don’t care.  I just want to surround myself in the things in life that matter.  Happiness is the number one thing.

Living life means being happy.  Who wants to live a shitty life?  Live life to its fullest.  Do everything you’ve dreamed of doing.  That’s what it means to live.  Write out that bucket list if you have to…make your dreams come true.  That’s what I found to be the meaning to live.

I found this quote…it describes 100% why I feel it is important for me to move to Morocco…it’s where I felt at home.

Going home means getting comfortable being who you are and who your soul really wants to be. There is no strain with that. The strain and tension come when we’re not being who our soul wants to be and we’re someplace where our soul doesn’t feel at home.

Melody Beattie, “Finding Your Way Home”

After the Rangers game on Saturday, I ended up on a train that was jam packed with people.  There was a group of kids and their chaperones that had gone into the city for the day.  One of the chaperones was a Muslim woman. 

She and the other woman kept going on and on about how rude it was of us (that were sitting) not to get up and give up our seats for them.  No one was elderly.  No one was pregnant.  They tried to say it was a white thing and that we lacked manners. 

The Muslim woman kept going on and on making racist comments. 

You know…I sat there looking at her with a confused look on my face.  I didn’t understand her point.  I also didn’t understand why a Muslim woman was a) making racist comments and b) spreading hate.  I kind of had to sit there and wonder if hate was just an American thing, because the hate she was preaching (very loudly) was not conducive of the Muslim culture…let alone a woman speaking so loudly who is Muslim.

I kind of sat there thinking that this woman apparently does not understand Islam. 

As I was watching the first three seasons of Weeds this weekend, there was also a Muslim man that was on the show.  I even sat there thinking…that is not the Nation of Islam.  That is not how they act.  It is inappropriate.

Then I had to wonder…is this just an American thing?

I wasn’t about to school a Muslim woman on how to be a proper Muslim, but I felt like telling her to go to Africa at some time in her life.  Maybe she’ll understand that the Nation of Islam does not practice hate.  It is forbidden.  I mean…it is forbidden to the point that people fear that God will ravage them with plagues if they act out of line just once or do anything that is not loving.

But try telling a woman who is racist to visit Africa sometime.  I can just see that not going over very well. 

Maybe it is just an American thing…this hate.  I don’t like seeing people embrace religion because of their skin color or as a right to hate.  It’s not what religion was designed for.  All I can say is that if you practice hate…you’re not following God.  The Quran specifically says in the first section…you are practicing the ways of the evil one if you practice hate.  You’re not following God. 

For the Christians…I could easily point out everything in the New Testament that says “God IS love.”  If God is love and he’s not hate, then you better be embracing the former rather than the latter.  You embrace something God is NOT…then well, your soul will have to answer to that. 

There was also something that the men of Morocco requested I write about when it comes to being Muslim.  They wanted me to help people in America understand that they are not terrorists.  Terrorism is about politics, not religion. 

The problems in Israel and Palestine…it’s politics.  It has ZERO to do with religion.  It’s the governments and politicians that lead people to believe it’s about religion.  Ask the Muslims and the Jews from there and they’ll grow sad and tell you it has nothing to do with religion.  It has everything to do with politics.  The people that write the stories just bill it as dysfunction between two religions trying to co-exist together.  It’s called FALSE PROPAGANDA.

Muslims are peaceful and loving people.  They live each and every single day for God, not for themselves.  They practice being good and loving.  They take care of everyone in a loving and kind way.  They do not practice hate, because they would be embracing the ways of the evil one if they were to do so.  They only practice love, because that is God’s way.

You have to experience being in their land in order to understand that this is the way that they live.  This is who they are.

For me to see hate or racism embraced inside the Muslim faith in America…that’s not a true Muslim.  That’s just someone using a religion for their own personal reasons.  You see it in every religion.  It’s like bending religion to your own whims to protect you…as if you have a right to do evil because you are from X, Y and Z religion. 

In a Muslim Arab country…you would be stoned to death if you tried to do something as stupid as that.  You obey the rules or miss out on the true meaning of what God is all about. 

There’s also another misconception that people have of Islam.  People that are not Muslim think that Allah is not the same as God.  No, it’s the same God.  Just like the French call God “Dieu”, the Arabic word for God is “Allah.”  It’s the same God.

The Islam faith is based on Judaism and Christianity.  They just have another book called the Quran and another messenger.  Just like there was Moses and Jesus, there was also Mohammed.  They were all messengers of God.  That is how they look at it…they are messengers.  They did not make Mohammed into a golden calf like some religions have done to certain messengers.

It’s like taking Judaism and Christianity to another level by adding in additional rules and understanding to what the previous two religions needed more explanations on, as well as additional rules to make them better followers of God.  It was designed to correct the errors of understanding and elaborate more on what the prior messengers of God had given to the people. 

Islam would be nothing without the prior two religions.  Just think of them as Jews and Christians, but stricter in their faith and cause to God. 

Remember…if you practice hate…you’re not practicing God’s ways.  That is a concept that I heard repeated many times…it’s also written very clearly in the Quran.

I also want to dispel a myth from some propaganda I saw released years ago after 9/11.  Nowhere at the start of the Quran does it say death to Christians and anyone that doesn’t believe in Islam.  That’s fictitious.  I have an official copy of the Quran at home, translated into English and that is not what it says at all. 

I also went around Morocco having the guide translate the Quran written on the walls to me.  It always starts off bissmillah…IN THE NAME OF GOD…the Entirely Merciful, the Especially Merciful…

It actually begins naming all of the names of God.  I believe they said there were 70+ names.  Here’s an English translation of the first page of the Quran.  You’ll see that it doesn’t say anything about death to Christians.  It asks God to lead them on the path that is in his favor, and not on a path that leads away from him. 

Sometimes you just have to leave America to see how much propaganda bullshit is in this country.  Did you know that England still prints that 9/11 was an inside job?  You say that in America and what happens?  Lots of bad, bad, bad things…

Step outside of America and learn about America.  You’ll find that the world isn’t so hateful, but they do look at America like everyone is a complete idiot ruled by a machine of lies. 

Seek the truth and you will find it.

Note: Radical Islam is not a religion or group that is acknowledged by the majority of Muslims.  Radical Islamists do not represent what the Quran is truly about.  The way it was described to me is that this group practices hate, therefore they are not part of the Nation of Islam.  They follow evil…and it is in pure violation of the Quran and the Muslim faith.  Most Muslim men scoff at the mention of this group and are very quick to point out that these people are not men of God, nor are they Muslim. 

There are also PSAs on televisions as well as billboards telling people not to join these groups.  It’s like any PSA on how drugs are bad for you, drinking and driving kills, terrorism…it’s not part of God’s way. 

The issue is that this group has twisted the Quran and its meanings for political reasons, not for religious or spiritual reasons.  Muslims do not have this group’s back, but this group is strongly recruiting the youth who are impressionable. 

Radical Islamists are also the minority, not the majority.  It is a minority that are shunned by the majority.  Think about it…that minority has been bombing other Muslims as well.  Think Timothy McVeigh…The Unabomber…that weirdo in Sweden…guerillas…All minority killing their own people.

{Food for thought.}

One of the most important words I learned last month was the Arabic word “Shukran.”  It means “Thank you.” 

It was probably the most important word I learned beyond Inshallah (God willing…used every time you speak about the future) and Alhamdulillah (Thanks to God).  It’s funny that those three words were the most important words to know.  I still have no idea how to say “YES” in Arabic and I didn’t learn how to say “NO” until the end of my trip.  I do know the word for beautiful: Lailah (pronounced ‘La-la’).  In some cultures it also means “Princess.”

As the last days of the year start to wind down, I can’t help but think of the things that I am thankful for…you see, Morocco changed everything.  I think Winter Adams once described a situation to me as a ‘Deal Breaker’ before.  What’s happened since Morocco has been my Deal Breaker in life.  It changed everything. 

Since being back, I’ve sat down with all of my loved ones and told them, “I’m moving to Morocco in a year.”  While a lot of my friends and family have been shocked at first at the news, the only thing they can say is that they are happy for me.  It seems as if I’ve found what I’ve been looking for in this lifetime. 

My friend, M, said to me when I told her my decision, “I guess we’re going to have to spend the next year being tourists in NYC, doing anything and everything a tourist would do in this city.”  I was surprised that was her response.  I expected her to tell me I was crazy and talk me out of it.  But there was something in the way I relayed my case to her that she realized that this really was our last year together in New York City. 

Even as the rain falls over New York City and the temperatures drop, you’ll find me stopping at the sight of the rain and breathing it in…as if it were the last time.  It’s called living in that moment. 

I’ve started to say goodbye already to America. 

When I made my announcement back in July that this would be my final season, little did I know why it would be.  I just followed my heart and my intuition and let whatever the reasons why I was saying goodbye just slowly materialize.  Since Morocco, I haven’t quite been back in New York.  Everywhere I go, I feel like I’m still there, but then I’m sad when I realize I’m thousands of miles away. 

I look at America and the people around me.  I can’t help but feel like I’ve evolved from toleration.  What does that mean?  It means that I can now see America through different eyes, and I don’t like what I see.  I see people so concerned with their shells…and how evil they are to each other.  I feel sorrow for everyone around me.  I just want to shake everyone and tell them, “You don’t have to live this way…life could be so much better if you changed the way you think and the way you treat people!” 

I haven’t taken the rings off of my wedding finger since I’ve returned because I’ve already made a commitment to marry someone.  I keep thinking…maybe I’m crazy, but I’m doing what my heart and soul is telling me to do. 

I keep seeing the America world that I currently live in closing its doors all around me.  Why?  Because the way I think has changed.  I can no longer think or see as an American and be proud to be one.

I hear the most blasphemous and evil things coming from the mouths and minds of people that say they are followers of God.  They try to say their religion is the superior one…but all I hear is HATE based on lies.  It breaks my heart to hear it.

You look all around you…the shell of a person is glorified and hated all at once.  The shell is not who they are inside…it’s not their soul.  Their shell is what they think hides their soul.  For me, I have always looked at another person’s soul.  It is very difficult for me to see their shell.

My first boyfriend (as an adult) was an African American man.  He is one of those reversed racists (i.e. he talks crap about white people all of the time).  He once said to me at the beginning that he had to ask himself if I really did not see skin color…did I not really see what a person looked like on the outside.  He realized that I didn’t, not realizing that I only saw people for who they are inside. 

There are times that I befriend people that need saving.  People think I’m just like that person, but I never am.  I am just curious about them and why they can’t see beyond their own haze.  I know that they will betray me, because I sense it right from the very beginning.  But I still have that hope that maybe something I said to them will make sense…and that’s all that matters to me.

I learned in Morocco that it was okay to be who I really am.  I could stop worrying so much about my shell.  The shell is that job you have, your hair color, skin color, ethnicity, religion, your weight, your upbringing, your family…all of those things that people say make you…YOU, but really it doesn’t.  When you meet God, none of those things matter.  All that matters is who you are in your soul and what you’ve done in this lifetime.

Imagine a world where everyone judges you based on your soul and your actions in this lifetime.  It’s a world where everyone is constantly thinking of doing good for everyone around them, without thinking about themselves first.  People are kind to everyone.  People take care of each other like brothers and sisters.  People love everyone so much…you can feel it in everything you see, hear, smell and touch.  The winds carry that love all around. 

When men compliment women and tell them that they are beautiful, they are being honest, and not attaching sex as the reason why they are saying it.  Men take care of the women there, including making sure that they feel beautiful inside.

Sounds like a crazy pipe dream?  Well, I found that crazy pipe dream in Africa.  I found my dream come true in Morocco. 

I look at magazines and hear women complain about how fat they are, how they have to look like this or like that.  I read about how immorality has become the norm…and I read about how much we hate ourselves and we must constantly try to perfect our shells.

That song by U2, “Running to Stand Still” described me.  Imagine being able to finally stand still after running your entire life…running to something and having no idea where you were running to.  Imagine being able to stand still in the desert, looking up at the stars, realizing that what was hurting you had finally healed, and that you were standing before God and he was telling you that you had found what you were looking for.  You turn to your right and look at the person next to you and realize that you had found love.  Not just any love, but that kind of love where your souls intertwine with each other and inevitably becomes one soul.  That was the magic I felt in the Sahara Desert.  My soul didn’t just intertwine with a nomad’s soul, it became part of the great soul of Morocco…and it calls to me.

I wanted to live in a world that was like my soul…at complete peace and connected with the soul of God.  I didn’t find that in America.  I found it in a Muslim country. 

I wanted people to see my soul, not my shell.  Do you know how nice it is to not be judged based on my job?  People there don’t care what I do…just as long as what I do is good for everyone.

Do you know how nice it is to have suitor after suitor line up and ask my guide if he could date me?  I wasn’t used to all of the attention, but my guide explained to me that not too many women in their country are as beautiful as I am.  They look at me and they see how beautiful my soul is…and then they see what I look like on the outside.  They see my happiness…and that, to them, is more beautiful than anything.

All of my insecurities I have about myself…they mean nothing in Morocco.  Why?  Because men in Morocco tell women how beautiful they are…to the point that you actually feel beautiful inside (ergo, no need for insecurities). 

Why can’t first world countries be like that? 

I was able to be myself in Morocco.  As in, all of those weird things about my soul that I keep hidden in America…I can let it out.  In America, people say I’m crazy when I talk about it.  In Morocco, they see it differently.  The see it as a sign from God.  I’m deemed as ‘special.’  I see the world very differently. 

People have told me for years that the only reason why I react to Ground Zero in Manhattan the way that I do…it’s post-traumatic stress disorder left over from 9/11.  That’s America’s explanation. 

In Morocco, I got physically ill in the exact spot where a terrorist act occurred in Marrakech.  I was ready to vomit, faint…I was just so physically ill that the guide took one look at me and had to get me out of the souks.  He waited until I felt better before he asked me what happened in there.  When I told him that I just felt bad and that my mind kept screaming, “GET OUT OF THE SOUKS,” he looked at me and told me that he had turned to me to tell me that we were in the exact spot where a terrorist bombed Marrakech back in April, but he saw that I had turned pale and that I was ill, so he tried to get me out of there.

When he told Driss about it, Driss told him in Arabic what happened when I was in a kasbah.  I came out and asked him if anyone had died in there.  He said he didn’t know, but he would find out.  I told him exactly who died in the kasbah. 

Later that night, he asked around and they confirmed what I had told him.  He said he didn’t want to tell me that I was right, because it was so strange to him that I knew.  He then told him about the conversation we had about demons and what the Imams had said about them.  He was shocked to learn that I knew of an ancient civilization in Iraq that worshipped Shaitan.  He was shocked I even knew the word.  It’s not a word used very often in the Arabic language because of the evil it represents.

He told all of these things to my guide in Arabic…and I said, “Are you telling him about what happened at the kasbah and the demon conversation?”  He turned to me and said, “Yes, but how do you know?  I told him in Arabic.”  I just smiled and said, “I picked up the language very quickly.” 

But Driss knew I meant something else.  He also knows that I have the ability to put certain thoughts into other people’s minds.  It took him about a week to discover that I can do that. 

The true test to see if letting my soul be free was okay…I asked if they thought I was crazy.  Driss stopped the car and they both turned to me and said, “NO! You’re not crazy!”  The guide had said he had heard of people like me before, but they had just never met anyone like me before.

They continued talking about how I had never read the Qur’an but was able to quote scripture and stories to them in order to better understand how they should approach a situation.  I was able to appease situations.  I could tell them when I felt a snake was near me.  The way I described it to my guide, he just said, “Then don’t look to your right.”  There was a cobra within a few yards of me when he said that.

Oprah Magazine recently devoted an entire magazine to explain all of this…it’s called understanding your intuition.  As in, I’m very connected to my intuition and I let it rule my every being.  It determines why I make the decisions that I make in life.  I can’t explain why I make those decisions, but I have faith that in time, I will know why I made that decision.  Some pieces have to fall into place first before I can see it clearly. 

In Morocco, they realized that I can sense evil very quickly.  In America, I have to put invisible tape over my mouth before I tell some guy off for thinking what he’s thinking…or smelling the stench of an innocent child taken advantage of by a man that just stepped onto the train. 

In Morocco, there were two men talking about how sensitive I am to evil acts.  They spoke about it in Arabic.  I explained in English…if you know God’s plan, when something evil happens, it’s like a rip in time…I can sense it. 

I could see the guide thinking hard about what I said.  Evil is not part of God’s plan.  That’s why I can’t go to Ground Zero.  There are echoes there.  I feel the echoes.  It’s like when a murder has occurred, I can tell you something very evil had happened in that spot. 

There are times that I will walk into a situation like that and all of a sudden change direction or hurry out of the way because I sense things that cannot be seen.  In NYC, an invisible wall goes up within two blocks of WTC area.  I physically can’t move forward.  My friends have tried to trick me into going to the WTC site for years.  They won’t even tell me where we are.  We get within two blocks and it’s like an invisible wall comes up and I can’t move forward.  I start to get sick.  I feel like I’m going to vomit. 

It happened every single time.  For it to be PTSD, how was I able to feel the same symptoms in Marrakech…when I didn’t even know that a terrorist bombing had taken place months before?  It’s not PTSD.

So after reading all of that, I’m sure most of my First World readers will think I’m crazy.  In Morocco, I’m not.  The way they look at it…I’m on a higher spiritual plane than they are and I understand things at a much deeper level than what is taught to them by the Imams. 

It’s like…if they could test me to see if what I’m saying is true…I passed with flying colors.

To be in a world where it’s okay to be the person that I really am and embrace my soul 100% and have ZERO concern for that shell…that is paradise to me.  I found what I have always been looking for.

When I labeled this “Giving Thanks” it really does mean giving thanks to God that he changed my entire world and gave me a new home where I can be free to be who I really am.  It means showing the world…there’s a chance that we can change…we can have a better world if we all wanted it to change.

People talk of World Peace as a wish…it is possible, just so long as we change the way we think and the way we believe.  Imagine a world where everyone is always concerned about doing good for each other each and every waking moment…because your actions are being watched by God at all times, therefore, you should always be doing good.

When you see a poor person, a sick person or an elderly person, you help them.  When you see someone get out of line, you stop them and remind them why they should do good.  You help out everyone around you…you do good at all times, knowing that everyone else around you has adopted the same philosophy.  It is their way of life. 

Imagine a world that good…that’s what I found amongst a country of Muslim Arabs.  In the Christian America, I’ve only found hate.  I started to believe that all humanity was that evil, but then I went to Morocco and witnessed firsthand that not all humanity was evil.  There was good in the world.  I’m thankful I found that.

If you made it this far in this long post, I want to thank you for hearing me out.  Sometimes what you find in the most remote part of the world can be the Deal Changer in life.  You can’t help but think that there is hope for the world and for everyone in it.  When they say that YOU must be the change in the world that YOU seek…it is true. YOU must change in order to change the world.  As I’ve always said, the only way you can truly help someone is by letting them see God shine through you.  That is change.

No matter how you celebrate Thanksgiving, Americans, remember that in order to truly give thanks, don’t just say it…DO IT!  If you are truly thankful, pass the goodness of what you’re thankful on to others.  If you’re thankful for a good meal, give a good meal to someone who doesn’t have one.  If you’re thankful for your family, open your hearts to being like a family to others who have no one to go home to.  If you’re thankful for your success, share your wisdom with others learning how to become better.  If you’re thankful for your health, help those who are in hospitals with sicknesses and injuries.

The only proper way to give thanks in this world is to share it with others.  That is how you show God and the world that you are truly thankful for the life that you have been given.  Spread the love…

Me: Why is the water this color blue?

Driss: It is a reflection of the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We left Fes and headed to our next destination…Erfoud.  On our way, we had to travel through the Mid-Atlas Mountains.  We stopped in a village at the top of a mountain that reminded me very much of a place I had just visited in Europe…Switzerland. 

There was a lot of money flowing into this college town.  But does it surprise you that there are large homes and ski slopes all near the college?  School for the uber rich…that’s all I’m going to say.

As we headed through the mountains, Driss pointed out the Berber nomads.  From their tents to the sheepherders to the dogs that wait patiently alongside the roads for people to throw food to them…it was interesting to see their life. 

It really amazes me how a whole group of people choose to live in tents, moving from one place to another based on the availability of water and vegetation.  They care for sheep or goats or cattle, which provide their resources for what little money they need in order to survive.  You see, they don’t need money to live.

How is that possible?  Well, they don’t have to pay taxes on the land they live upon.  They don’t even have to rent the land.  They live off of the land and off of the byproducts from their flock.  They eat dates (which are abundant all throughout the land) and drink goat’s milk.

Their diet is very simple and they don’t eat much at all.  The men spend days tending to their flock before returning home, where their wives keep to the tents and do crafts and create rugs with intricate patterns on them that they use to sell to merchants.

Imagine a world without cell phones, BlackBerrys, televisions and the internet!  You may think you’d go crazy without any of those things, but oddly enough, you become addicted to the peace and tranquility of Morocco. 

While we made our way through the Atlas Mountains, we came across a ravine that was so beautiful to see amidst all of the sand and the mountains.  I had Driss pull over so I could take a picture of the water.  I stood there just marveling at how blue the water was. 

I got back into the car and asked Driss why the water was that color blue.  He replied (very poetically), “It is a reflection of the sky.”  I looked at him thinking he was joking, but he was dead serious.  I laughed and patted him on the back and told him that’s what I love about Moroccan men.  They are so poetic. 

As we drew closer to the sand dunes, Driss dropped me off at Xaluca Dades in Erfoud to spend the night.  What a gorgeous hotel in the middle of the desert! 

Driss told me before we went into the hotel that he noticed I hadn’t eaten in four days.  He told me to eat dinner and breakfast in the morning.  He told me the food would be safe…just eat.  So I did…but not without someone spying on me.

When I came out for dinner, I only picked up some rice and chicken and some cooked vegetables.  I sat down and one of the men working at the hotel came up to me with a huge grin on his face and asked me if I was from Room 1.  The bad part was I knew why he was asking.  I responded, “Yes.”  He then shook his head and smiled really big, walking away. 

While this would have creeped out anyone…I know why he did it.  He was checking up on me for Driss to make sure I was eating, because he hung around my table during breakfast to make sure I actually ate the food (I kind of gave it to the cat when no one was looking). 

I’ll be honest…I was scared to eat in both Europe and in Morocco.  I was living on water and juice for the first four days and I was perfectly fine.  I worked my way up to two meals…and then three towards the end of the trip…but that took a lot of trust in Driss to help me find food that I could stomach.  Trust me, Driss knew how sensitive my stomach was and did his best to make sure I found edible food.

The next morning, Driss picked me up at the hotel and took me to a fossil museum where the scientist there took me around to show me the fossils.  Mind you, I think he felt threatened by me.  I could tell he was not happy that he was giving a tour to a woman that was…well, Western with money…and not Muslim. 

Despite his continuing escalating anger…I did learn a few things.  For one, I find it so intriguing that the Sahara Desert was once the ocean.  They believe that one day it will return to the sea.  (Wild, right?)

There are sea fossils from millions of years ago that are dug up in the Sahara Desert and turned into furniture, marble tabletops and sinks, sculptures, and home items.  It’s quite beautiful and amazing.  I think every home that desires luxury should buy their marble tabletops and sinks from the Moroccans.  Just interesting to see all of the fossils embedded into the stone.

Afterwards, Driss took me to a mosque in a nearby town with beautiful date trees in the courtyard.  There, I was able to capture some photos of one of the men in the mosque.  I couldn’t have asked for a perfect picture.

We then headed off to see an old palace that was being restored.  The only thing in tact was the harem! 

I also got to try my first date (ever) that Driss found.  It had just fallen to the ground.  All I can say is that dates…are okay, but not my thing. 

We then headed off to the local markets (souks) that had just about everything you can imagine, including a livestock market. 

We then headed back to Erfoud, sat down and had lunch, while we awaited my driver to take me out to the sand dunes.  When Josef finally arrived, Driss gave him instructions on how to take care of me (gotta love Driss). 

I’ve already written about what happened in the desert that night and morning…so I’m not going to repeat it.  It’s just time to share the photos of the sunset and the sunrise.  What separates the sunset from the sunrise is the b/w photo of the desert at night with the moon in the sky as a small caravan heads back to their kasbah. 

What you will not see are pictures of Hamid.  He was sitting next to me as I took the pictures of the sunrise…TWICE.  As in if you want a girl to really fall in love with you, you show her how she can watch the sunrise twice in the same morning. 

One set of shots are of the sunrise appearing over the Algerian mountains in the distance.  The other set are the second sunrise from the bottom of the sand dunes. 

I’m not going to rehash my night in the Saharan Desert, because that one night in the desert was enough for a book. 

Right now, I wonder at this time of night if Hamid is watching the stars changing colors before his eyes.  When he first told me that the stars change colors, I thought he was nuts…but then he showed me what he was talking about…and I, too, saw the stars change colors before my very eyes. 

To see the world through a nomad’s eyes…probably one of the most magical things you’ll ever experience…so long as you are open to the possibilities that you can see two sunrises in the same morning and that the stars do indeed change colors. 

1. Pasta With Butternut Squash & Pecans.  I’ve never made a Martha Stewart recipe before until this week.  I was searching for a recipe to make with butternut squash and came across this one at MarthaStewart.com.  All I can say…why didn’t I ever make a Martha Stewart recipe before?  This was so delicious.  I keep having to remind myself that this was not made with garlic or seasonings…just butter, salt and pepper.  This is a nice fall recipe that I plan on making again and again. It really hits the spot on these cold nights. 

2. Urban Outfitters.  For those who know UO for their clothes, may not shop the store as much for their Home items.  For the past decade, I’ve been shopping their home section off and on.  It started with a $59 chair that was just a silly thing for a just out of college graduate…but it followed me around for the next seven years.  It was so simple to pack…and the cat loved it so much.  It was a great chair to sit in and read for hours.  But stupid me gave the chair away in my move to NYC and I miss it like crazy.  Lesson learned: never give away UO home items. 

I’ve bought a lot of decor items for the kitchen, including a fancy shmansy silk pillow that looks so luxurious…and I got it for only $9.95 each. 

As I decorate my office, I’ve been able to find more great items in their clearance section.  That means that I’ve been able to bring everything below budget.  Everything is so fancy and well made that I’m very happy with all of my finds.  Now to wait for those boxes to arrive!

3.  John & Mary Bag.  I’ve found my new bag.  It’s perfect in oh so many ways.  1.  It’s a classic.  2.  The colors are oh, so perfect.  3. The bag will last for a very long time.  4.  It’s perfect for work.  5.  It’s perfect for travel.  6.  It’s perfect for a writer on the go all of the time.  Luckily, the bag is on sale.  I can get the large bag for $135 (regular $224).  It also comes in a medium for $120 (regular $208).  I’m going to opt for the large bag because it’s considered a ‘personal’ item and not a carry-on bag. 

4.  Fabric Covered Magnet Board.  Thanks to Etsy.com and Pinterest.com, I came across the perfect magnet board for my office.  It’s Parisian style…and will go with the decor of the room.  What I envision putting up on the board are my index cards of story lines as I go through and write the book.  I can visually see the book in front of me and move the cards around as I put the book together.  I also plan on making little magnets from all of those extra buttons I’ve been collecting over the years that they attach to the clothing tags.  Waste not & recycle!

Isn’t the board just cute!  I love all things French. 

5.  BonBon Rose Girls.  So this is where I share a blog I love to stalk.  BonBon Rose Girls is such a fun site.  They talk about fashion, decorating, food, finds…all in all…it’s just an inspiring site to find ideas on what to wear, decor items for the home that they’ve found, deals of the day….I mean…there’s so much to cover in what they actually cover.  Right now, I have Gap City Flats on my brain as my next purchase from the Gap.  Luckily, they still have them in my size on sale for $33.99.  Thanks to the BonBon Rose Girls for having that deal of the day in my brain!

It’s been awhile since the world was abuzz with The Matrix.  I had popped in Matrix Reloaded (part 2) because I hadn’t seen it in quite some time (maybe a few years).  I liked this version because my favorite Italian actress, Monica Bellucci, also guest stars. 

Towards the end of the film, Trinity says something that made me stop and think…funny, because that’s exactly why our economy is the way that it is today.  She mentioned something about how the mistakes of the past…we were borrowing from tomorrow for today.

All of those reports on how banks are trying to establish new fees, I can’t help but think that now is not the time to become greedier.  You fire 30,000 people from the company and then raise the bank fees for your customers?  What is wrong with that picture?

But then you have to ask why banks have been put in this position.  Go back to Trinity’s quote.  People borrowed from tomorrow to pay for today.  Tomorrow finally came and there was a big fat IOU…and nothing to show for in terms of repayment. 

People complained about signing loans for their houses and then when the interest rate jumped, they could no longer afford their homes.  Why were you buying a bigger house outside of what you could afford?  It is also the banks’ fault for allowing these kinds of loans.  It’s just a complete circle of screwing each other over.  No one wins in GREED…Greed to have something you can’t afford; Greed to try to make a profit off of giving someone something they can’t afford, because you can make money off of that bigger interest.

If you look at the stories from the Great Depression, what the people learned back then was not to live outside of your means.  People didn’t have jobs, there were people living in makeshift shacks along country roads…and even in Central Park.  They did whatever work they could find…and if worse came to worse, they tried to get assistance.  There were bread lines…but people with pride tried to keep themselves and their families away from being in that line.

People lost a lot of money in the stock market crash, but many survived who didn’t throw themselves out of a window.  There was always a new day…they lived for today…not tomorrow. 

They would have never borrowed money to pay for a house that was beyond their means.  It was unheard of.

They planted gardens.  They bartered with others.  They tried to keep their credit to the absolute minimum and necessity.  Credit wasn’t used to buy whatever they wanted.  They had credit to buy what they needed…like FOOD. 

People from the Depression Era also tried to teach future generations that you need to live within your means and not live in excess.  They lived very simply with little to no clutter in their homes.  They only kept the things they needed and the things that they worked hard for. 

They learned how to make it with little to nothing.  They were thinking about today, not about tomorrow.

In the Muslim Arab tradition, they live the same way.  They look at life in the present moment, not what’s going to happen tomorrow or how much money they will have tomorrow.  They wake up each and every morning thinking that whatever they need, God will provide it for them. 

But rest assured, they work very, very hard every single day in order to get those gifts from God.  Whether it’s a good harvest or a good job, they work very hard to do the things necessary to make everyone (including God) happy with them and their work.  If everyone is happy, then they are blessed. 

Talk about less stress.

I learned when I was in my early 20s that it’s not wise to borrow from tomorrow, because when tomorrow comes, how are you going to pay for it?  What if you can’t pay for it when that time comes?  Then you have to ask yourself what in the world you just had to have yesterday that you had to pay for it today…and you still don’t have the money to pay for it.  Most times, you can’t even remember what you bought when you got that credit card bill at the end of the month.

I live by the rule that if you don’t have the cash for it, then it’s not meant to be.  LUSTING after things that you’ll never be able to afford is a sin in itself for a reason…because you will end up hurting yourself (and possibly others) by trying to LUST after something you want and don’t need, especially if you can’t afford it with what you have right now.

That works in all manners in life, not just in money.  LUST and GREED were considered deadly sins for a reason.  The two alone or even combined can do serious damage.  To sin now, you’ll have to pay for it later.  All religions talk about that.  If you think you’ll be forgiven for those sins…look at our world today and tell me how those sins forgiven haven’t upset or hurt others.

Bank bailouts?  Look at what happened to the world.  US financial bailout?  Look at what happened to the world. 

There are cities that talk about running out of money, like Detroit.  They warn that they will be out of money by April.  That means 10% paycut (or even layoffs) for police officers and many others that serve the city.

We are all paying that IOU TODAY with joblessness, paycuts, foreclosures, collections, etc.  Tomorrow finally came and what have we done to ourselves?  What has LUST and GREED cost us, but pain. 

How can we change all of this?  If there’s anything I’ve learned over these past few years, we have the ability to change our life by changing our mindset.  When we change our mindset, our world becomes new (and even better).  When you think positive, you view the world differently.  You see opportunity in the challenges you face, not detriment.

When you think about doing the things that will make your life better, you have to think positively and act with goodness in mind.  Since this financial downfall has happened, you see new types of businesses cropping up…businesses designed to help not just the consumer, but the world.  People with success in mind have been developing new business models that have helped shift their businesses ahead of the rest…and made their customers very happy.  They not only cut their overhead costs by staying exclusive to a certain group of clients, but they also give back to their customers for their loyalty.  They bank on a customer’s happiness to bring them back.  Bauble Bar is a great example of that. 

They are a jewelry company that does not sell in stores or have an actual store.  Everything is completely web based.  They reward their customers with credits towards free jewelry each time they shop…and each time they refer a friend…and each and every time that friend buys…they both get a credit.

Not only is their product qualitative and beautiful, but they keep all of their customers very happy.  A happy customer equals a loyal customer who will do all of the marketing for them (i.e. their marketing budget…why market the product in ads when your customers spread the news for you).

Thanks to their Buried Bauble Fridays, I’ve been able to amass a gorgeous jewelry collection for $10 a piece…and so have my friends.  I always get compliments on the free jewelry I pick up from their Vault…and when you say FREE…that prompts more people to want to buy from them.

That is the new direction businesses have to move into in order to succeed in this day and age.  They have to make the customer happy…and give back in a way that the customer sees it.  Customers need to feel happy with their purchase, even if they know that their purchase goes to help the women in Africa who designed and made the piece they are ordering.

The thing here is that people are not working with GREED in their mind when they set up their businesses.  They are thinking about how their business can change the world…and how they can bring happiness into the world.

It’s about bringing positive energy into their world and into their business.  It’s positive thinking.

When I first started living as a positive thinker a few years back, the only thing on my mind at the time was what I wanted when I first got my current job.  I thought about how much money I wanted to make, the benefits I wanted, and the hours I wanted to work.  Basically, I just wanted to make a lot of money with full benefits, and work less hours.  I got all of that by not only wishing for that, but by putting my thoughts into action. 

When I walked into the interview, I knew exactly what I wanted.  If they had what I wanted, then I wanted to work for them. 

The job I ended up getting in the end…that was the job that was perfect for me.  It met all of my criteria and more…and I’ve been very happy there ever since.

When I think positively about money, I think…I want more than enough.  I don’t want anymore than that.  I don’t want to be rich beyond measure.  I just want to have a little more than enough…and that’s exactly what I got.  To want more than that…that would be GREED in order to fulfill my LUSTS.  That is a slippery slope that should not be tread upon.

I’ve been very lucky these past few years.  Right now, all I want to focus on is the present and making sure I have what I need.  It’s funny how I had my cards read the other day and I saw that I would be on a financial diet for a little while.  What a diet it’s been.  What’s funny is that there are two ways to look at the card.  You can see it as it being harsh, or you can look at it in a positive light…as in, God is still providing for me…he’s not denying me.  How you look at that part in life is how your future will unravel.

For me, being on this extreme financial diet reminds me of how much fun I used to have scouring through vintage shops and thrift stores.  I used to go in and budget myself at $100 and I had to find an entire outfit for $100…sometimes $50.  I’ve found amazing pairs of vintage jeans, bags and coats that way.  I’ve even been able to find items that I had been wanting (like books and home stuff) just show up on the shelves while I was in a thrift store for just 10 cents or a dollar.  Those are the finds that I cherish just as much as I do with my first purchase from Neiman Marcus or Tiffany & Co.  Why?  Because there are great finds where you find an amazing deal on something you had been looking for that you got for just pocket change…and then there’s that moment when you realize you can afford your first Burberry bag…or even your first Fendi bag.

I even found out that Aldi just opened up in my neighborhood.  I remember shopping there when I was dirt poor and coming out with so many great finds.  Target and Wal-Mart also supplemented my grocery finds. 

I also found out that there was a Salvation Army shop just two blocks from my office.  Dangerous, indeed…but good for my pocketbook. 

I don’t have to live so frugally, but I choose to because it takes a lot of work (and money) to make my next dream come true.  As I told my friend, God told me I needed to work hard these next six months, because it will pay off in the end.  What that means…well, I’ll find out in six months…just like I found out while I was in Morocco why God kept saying that what happens in Morocco will change my life completely.  It will change my entire perception on life and develop a new ending to “Losing 100 Pounds of Unhappiness.”  Ends up, he was right.  It changed everything in ways that I never imagined it would…and I am happier for it.

Now, all my mind can think about is making sure I have more than enough of the necessities (like food, health related items, etc.), and getting rid of the things I don’t need.  What I bring into the home now are the things that will be with me today, tomorrow and a year from now…and I’m not borrowing from tomorrow to pay for it today.  I’m paying for today with today’s money so that I can also have it for tomorrow (if it comes).  If I don’t have the money today, I’m definitely not borrowing to pay for it.  Why?  Because that IOU eventually becomes due…and I find that IOU always has to be paid when you don’t have the money.  It’s better to start living with what you have today, because tomorrow’s paycheck is never guaranteed.

This is actually something for the ladies today, because guys could care less about this stuff. 

There are times that I have ideas, ideas, ideas on what I’d like to do with my office, but not until today did it all come together…and way under budget.

Thanks to Urban Outfitters for helping me piece it all together.  The colors are now white, pink, lavendar and gray.  The focal point is my Missoni for Target pouf. 

I have been looking for the right white duvet for a long time and considered getting the Shabby Chic duvet from Target…but ends up UO has one for about $20 less than the Shabby Chic.  Add a gray/white bedskirt for $9.99 and we’re set for the bed…toss pillows will be the next find.  I’m thinking Parisian here, so we’ll see if I can Martha Stewart up some special Paris pillow designs. 

I also found a couple of gray medallion shower curtains…2 for $29.99.  I find sometimes that I love shower curtain patterns, because it’s what I’m looking for vs. regular curtains. 

A few other pluses is that I’m getting a couple of turquoise blue paisley curtains and a turquoise side table (think Tiffany blue).  Total cost of everything is ringing in at $180.  For me, with all that’s being shipped (shipping’s free)…that’s a great deal.  That’s a duvet + 2 shower curtains + 2 paisley curtains + 2 shower curtain hooks + bedskirt + Tiffany blue side table = $180. 

I also found that HomeDecorators.com is having a sale on rugs.  Free shipping too.  I found a plain gray rug for $79 to cover most of the room.  (We’re up to $259 now.)

I went shopping for a new couch too for my living room.  I almost dropped $1000 on that new sofa, but something said…just look a little more.  Voila…Overstock.com had the identical movie sofa, but with 3 pillows (unlike CB2’s movie sofa) for 1/3 the price at $377.99 (free shipping).  Now we’re at $638.99. 

What makes me very happy…that’s still less than that sofa from CB2…and the finds today means that I have most of the office done.  Bookcases…that’s what I’m looking into next.

I really can’t wait to put up the artwork and photos.  I decided to put the Constantine ensemble up in the office.  I think it reflects more of my style, especially since gray is going to be one of the colors in the office.

Truthfully, the fact that I’ve narrowed down the colors for the office…that’s one HUGE step.  I’m just surprised at how well everything has come together thanks to the clearance section of UrbanOutfitters.com!  Trust me, there will be before and after pictures. 

Now to hit up Michael’s for frames, etc.

Ah, Fes…the most interesting and most cultural part of my trek across Morocco.  Fes is the city where Driss is from. 

In many tour guide books, it says that tourists should NOT tour the Arabic medina.  It is forbidden.  They are only allowed to visit the French and New Medinas, but not the Arabic medinas.

Want to know why…I mean, really know why it’s forbidden?  Because you’d get lost in the medina if you went by yourself.  You need a guide to lead you through the gigantic Arabic medina. 

We went up to a mountaintop so I could take a panoramic photo of the medina…it was so gigantic that I couldn’t fit the entire medina into one shot.

The medina is just one huge maze.  You have to be from there in order to know how to navigate the medina.  Not all stores are at street level.  The tanneries are hidden away.  The rug markets are hidden inside houses with security at the door.  They don’t let just anyone into their homes to view the rugs…unless you have a guide that knows the owners.

Even the restaurants are hidden away in cubby holes that you wouldn’t even know to look into…thinking it was someone’s home, until you walk in and see that it is a restaurant.  There are no signs leading you to anything.  You just have to know where you are going.  If you don’t…well, that’s why it’s forbidden.  You don’t want to take your chances at getting lost in this kind of medina.  It really is a gigantic maze.

In the house filled with rugs, I was surprised to find that the home was so big inside.  There were a good 3 floors…and the rooftop gives you a good look at the medina from the center.  Riads are gorgeous with their many rooms and courtyard in the middle.

At Dar Benhayoune, Ben Kabbou, the owner of the rug shop invited me into a large room where we sat and had drinks (at this time of day, water was the perfect drink to have).  He explained that this large riad kept cool through the summer thanks to all of the tiles.  There is no need for air conditioning.  The tiles throughout the entire home keeps it cool (something for homeowners to think about as far as cutting costs in their homes).  In the winter, they move the rooms down to the lower levels, closer to the fires and the kitchens. 

Ben and I talked a lot about books and spirituality.  It’s funny, because we have a love for classical literature.  He was surprised that I had read so many of the same old books that he had.  He was even more surprised by my spiritual knowledge…and I’m not even Muslim. 

After he had one of the men show me 30 different rugs, I decided on a small one to take back to the States.  I think the cat loves that new rug.  I wake up in the middle of the night to see her stretched out on that Berber rug. 

The Berber rugs are made by the women of one of the local Berber tribes.  This shop sells only rugs made by women…and the money goes to help those women. 

Each time I look at the rug I purchased, I think of the Berber woman who made the rug…and can’t help but say thanks for making something so beautiful that now graces my home, enjoyed by both me and the cat (who loves it more than I do)…it’s a piece of Morocco in my home.

After Ben and I wrapped up the transaction, we continued to talk a little while longer.  He told me as we headed back downstairs, “If I could describe how I’ve fallen in love with you, they would have to cut out my heart to bleed out all of the reasons why.”  I love that about the men of Morocco!  So poetic, so passionate, and so open to love.

{If you’re interested in buying a rug (lots of different styles from Arabic to Berber), email: d.benhayoune@gmail.com}

After we headed out of the rug shop, we headed to the tanneries (in the slideshow, it’s the large circular clay containers with different colors and men standing in them).  Now, I thought I would see things that would gross me out, but no…just the finished product.  I didn’t even see the women that do the sewing and design the intricate patterns onto the leather.  I only saw the men dyeing the hides of the animals…and yes, the stench is so disgusting. 

They hand you a piece of mint to smell when the odor gets too horrendous. 

At Terrasse de Tannerie, I picked up a purse for my friend and two poufs for my living room.  Now, I’m a big fan of the poufs.  Driss told me that you don’t have to stuff the poufs with cotton, etc.  He told me to just use it as extra storage.  Put old clothes or blankets in it.  What a novel idea.  I rotated my wardrobe when I got back home and put all of the summer clothes into the poufs.  What shocks me is that my entire summer wardrobe actually fit into both of the poufs.  It was definitely a much more decorative way to store my clothing…and not throw them into plastic containers or bags like I have the last however many years.

Now, I had to bargain in ways that you can’t believe to get the cost of the 2 poufs and the bag down to $300.  They originally quoted me $780.  I talked them down to a little under $300…with the promise I would do a writeup (obligation fulfilled). 

There are so many things to choose from at the Terrasse de Tannerie.  Even if it’s just to get that shot of the coloring pits, for me, they had so many purses…I almost fainted at the number…and then trying not to buy one for myself (purses are my fetish)…that took every single ounce of me not to buy a huge leather bag.  The poufs were more important.

Now, you may think that $300 for a leather bag and 2 poufs are expensive.  Well, I came back and saw that on Fab.com, they had the exact leather poufs from that same tannery up for sale…price tag for each pouf at 50% off was $224 each.  Trust me, I got a deal.  Thanks to the owner, El Haj Ali Baba for bending to such a deal…and thank you for the gift of a leather coin purse.  I love it! 

After we headed out of the tannery, we stopped into Tisserand de Fes, a cloth store where the men hand make scarves, blankets, caftans, curtains, etc.  The work is magnificent.  I bought a scarf for my friend (who loves it so much, she now wears it everyday), a beautiful blue silk blanket with velvet (the cat loves it so much…she’s already sold on Morocco…I’m not saying the word ‘quarantine’ to her yet), and a tunic shirt for myself.

Now, there’s a picture I accidentally put up on Facebook of myself in a full caftan.  I joke that this is what the hubby would want me to wear, but after putting it on, I told the guys…it’s not me.  I just can’t wear it.  The men (even the ones in NY) keep telling me how lovely I look in it.  Literally…it’s a house dress…not the type you go out in!  HAHA.

I bought a tunic top, because it suited me better than a full caftan.  Hamid wears the full caftan with pants underneath, but if he can talk me into wearing one…good luck to him.  I will probably only bend to wearing one on special occasions.  Every day…I’ll stick to wearing jersey pants and tanks at home. 

The owner of the shop and the guy helping me find something to buy, they’re the two guys in the slideshow with a big grin on their faces in front of all of the caftans.  I know that I will have to buy one to enter a mosque…but then I haven’t fully decided to become Muslim yet (all depends on if the court demands it in order to adopt the little boy from Rabat…then I’ll do it for that little boy).

After we left the medina, we headed to the potters.  I find their shop to be so intriguing.  I was told not to talk to the women while I was there.  How odd is that, right?  I was only allowed to speak to the men.  Why?  They didn’t want me giving the women any ideas.  Wow, right? 

The women are generally separated from the men while working at the potters, but I did find one room where both men and women paint designs onto the pottery.  It was pretty amazing to watch how accurate and fast they are.  Everything is hand painted.  No machines. 

The one that intrigued me the most was how they create the designs on the tiles.  The tile is completely painted in one color and then a man uses some tools to scrape off the paint with a design.  It happens so quickly, you can’t help but be mesmerized at how all of these artists can work so quickly to create such beautiful tiles and pottery.

I bought a few small dishes to put soaps and jewelry in.  I gave one dish to my friend (who loved it).  I know that when I design my new home in Morocco…I’ll be going to them for the tiles, fountains, and pottery.  They are a co-op, so all prices are fixed…but they did give me a discount (which was also nice). 

The owner is the man in the shop with his arm around me.  You can take a look around at some of their wares at Art Naji.  They have so many things and ship all over the world.  If you’re looking for something specific (tables, tableware, etc.), you can also email the director Naji Fakhari at info@artnaji.com.  They will make it to your specifications (color, etc.).

So back to the part where I’m not supposed to talk to the women…I was not allowed to talk to the women in Morocco.  The men would speak to the women for me, but I was not supposed to talk to them directly.  Odd, right?  I was considered equal to all of the men I came across.  Some men treated me as if I was more important than they were (i.e. they’re the servant, I’m the master).  But for the most part, the men treated me as their equal, and sometimes better than them.

What distinguishes that ‘better than them’?  Not attitude…MONEY.  It’s very rare for men to see a woman who has money…and it’s her money, not the family’s money, not her husband’s money…her money.  Driss had to keep telling me to stop tipping so much. My response was, I was tipping them what I thought he deserved.  10-50 dirham suffices.  100 dirham and they’re saying…it’s too much.  The way I look at it…they need the money more than I do.

It’s money that keeps me on equal footing with the men of Morocco.  They didn’t want me to encourage their women to believe that they could be like me…single, with a lot of money.  In their culture, the men make the money, some women work, but it’s to sell their wares and crafts.  It’s very rare that a woman owns her own riad, like the woman in Marrakech.  But I believe she either was able to do that because her husband had died or she got a lot of money in a divorce.  Either way, she was given more than enough money to run two five star riad hotels.

Driss had mentioned to me that I should do the same when I move to Morocco.  It would provide income for me, because as a woman, it would be hard to maintain my lifestyle and a career…especially if things didn’t work out between me and the nomad…or I just plain outright decided I wasn’t getting married.  Besides…I’d rather just buy a riad out by the sand dunes and have Hamid run it for me.  I’ll go do my own thing…like write, take photos and manage the household.

There are so many possibilities.  Hopefully we’ll finalize all of those possibilities in April when we take one last look around before I make any final decisions.  This will be my last look around Morocco before I decide where I’m buying a home.  Right now, Ouarzazate may be getting the nod…but then part of me likes the idea of living by the ocean.  So we’ll see what part of Morocco says…LIVE HERE…that isn’t the sand dunes of the Sahara Desert.  I need water and electricity.  Sahara can’t give that to me…YET. 

At any rate, here are the photos from Fes, Morocco…next set of pics will be our trip to the Sahara Desert.  And, of course, the Sahara…

There were a few people that wanted the information on a special oil used to help cure migraines.  Here is the website: Aux 100,000 Epices. 

The site is in French, so here’s how to find the anti-migraine medicine…

1. Under CATEGORIES (on the left), Click on HUILES ESSENTIELLES.
2. In the top row, third from the left, you’ll see HUILE ANTI-MIGRAINE for 8 euros.  Click on AJOUTER AU PANIER (i.e. ADD TO CART).
3. This will bring you to your cart.  Just click on ACHETER (i.e. BUY) at the bottom to go to the next page.
4. The next screen asks if you are a NOUVEAU CLIENT or DEJA CLIENT.  If you are a first time buyer, under NOUVEAU CLIENT, click on CONTINUER.
5. From there, it’s self explanatory.  Just fill in your billing/payment information.  They ship all over the world.

Don’t stock up on the anti-migraine medicine the first time you buy.  Just buy one to test to see if this will work for you.  You only need two drops for each application (one drop per temple).  Massage each drop onto your temples.  After five minutes, your migraine should be gone.

This is a medicine used all throughout Morocco and the people there swear by it.  There have also been stories of tourists that were given this medicine (after using migraine medication for years).  Their migraines were gone after five minutes.  They reported feeling better than they’d ever felt before. 

Everything is all-natural and derived from plants found in the Sahara Desert of Morocco.  These cures were developed by the Berber nomads of Africa.

Berber medicine was developed over the centuries as nomads wandered the desert, learning what plants heal illnesses.  Learning how to use accu-pressure was also passed down from one generation to the next. {It also teaches how the power of touch can heal another human being.}

You’ll also notice there are a lot of other natural cures, beauty products and teas listed on the site.  Argan oil has been taking the beauty world by storm in the US.  Argan is only found in Morocco.  It is the only place in the world where Argan trees are grown.

There are aphrodisiacs, all natural body scrubs, anti-aging products and so much more on the site.  Everything is ALL-NATURAL and made with NO CHEMICALS.

When I was in the store, I picked up some mint tea (which is very refreshing to have after a meal…especially for those who have acid reflux or a sensitive stomach).  I also picked up a bottle of Extrait de Fleur d’Oranger, which is a perfumed oil used to calm anxieties and stress.  It also smells very nice on. 😉

There is also a special black seed I picked up that is used for people who have breathing problems, like asthma.  It’s very reminiscent of the menthol in Vicks Vapo-Rub.  All you do is put the seeds in a handkerchief,  wrap it up into a small ball, stick it up each nostril and breathe in deeply (just one time, each side). 

I thought it was kind of crazy until the lady made me breathe it in.  You breathe in until your nostril feels like it is on fire and then you stop.  I didn’t think it would work, but after about three minutes, I felt my left lung ease up and I could breathe better. 

I was so impressed that it worked so quickly, and it was all natural, that I picked up a bag and brought it home with me for those days when I am having extreme difficulties in breathing.  That means…no more asthma medication.

There is also another special tea that I picked up that is also sold at Aux 100,000 Epices, it actually cures ALL symptoms.  On days that I have extreme difficulties, I have a cup of this tea and the symptoms are relieved and I feel better within 10-15 minutes.  Just one cup does the trick. 

Because this tea has every flower and plant in the Berber’s book of medicine…it heals just about anything and everything.  Even when my lung acts up early in the AM or my stomach has become very sensitive and I’m vomiting left and right…this tea has helped me breathe…and eased my stomach.

I should also mention that the reason why I got so interested in Berber medicine…well, Hamid is a Berber Medicine Man.  When I tried to explain cancer to him, he had no idea what it was.  I explained the symptoms to him and what happens inside the body.  He didn’t understand any of it. 

His response was what made me decide to move to Morocco.  NO ONE gets cancer.  The Berber nomads have never had a serious illness like cancer.  They get sick every now and again, but they have plants in the desert that helps cure them.  People die either from an accident or old age.  Maybe there’s something about their lifestyle that prevents them from getting serious illnesses.

Want to know his cure for a cough?  A mixture of Argan oil mixed in with olive oil, massaged into the neck.  The neck is then wrapped in a scarf to keep it warm.  I didn’t cough for hours after his cure. 

There are also healing properties in the Sahara Desert.  There are people that show up to the Berber camps with very bad rheumatism or arthritis.  Even people that are faced with knee surgery or other kinds of surgeries, head to the Sahara to lay out in the desert for a few hours for 3-6 days to avoid having surgery. 

Hamid told me there was one man that showed up to the camp completely bent over.  He couldn’t even stand up straight. 

The old man laid in the desert for 3 hours.  Afterwards, he headed into the tents, wrapped himself up in a blanket and stayed in the tents the rest of the day.  He went back out the next day and the next, repeating the same thing each day.  By the third day, he walked away completely cured, standing up straight.  The man said that he felt better than he did when he was 20 years old.

Driss also told me of how he had done the same thing when he was facing knee surgery after an accident.  His doctor gave him two choices: surgery or the Sahara Desert.  He opted for the Sahara.  After doing the same thing the old man had done, he walked away a few days later with a knee better than new.  Seven years later, he feels like his knee is still better than new.  The Sahara cured him. 

No special medicine or surgery required.

The reason why I’m sharing this information with all of you is because I’m looking for a cure myself.  For those with cancer…I’m looking for that cure there.  It’s hard to find a cure when the Berbers have never had cancer before.  But maybe they can find a cure if they have someone to test remedies on.

Keep in mind that the people of Morocco don’t like chemicals.  They prefer the all natural route, especially when it comes to medicine. 

Considering their cures are all natural and derive from plants in the desert…and it actually works…shouldn’t we give it a try instead of putting all of these chemicals into our bodies?  I still have yet to understand how poisoning our bodies with chemo actually helps get rid of the cancer.  There has to be a natural cure out there…even if it is just a lifestyle.  After all, if an entire group of people (the Berbers) have never had cancer before, shouldn’t we be researching how that’s possible?  How they never get really bad illnesses?  Maybe they do have the cure we’re looking for.

There’s also something to be said about the Berber lifestyle…they spend every day focused on two very important things: God and peace.  The Sahara Desert is the only natural setting on this planet where you can achieve nirvana without even meditating.  Just sitting in the Sahara for a few hours will make you feel at complete peace.  It’s the only place in the world where I’ve been able to achieve that without blanking out my mind and meditating.  That peace may also be linked to why the Berbers never have serious illnesses.

They also have a very simple diet.  I do mean very simple.  They take a few dates and a container of goat’s milk out with them when they tend the herd for 2-3 days.  They have a light dinner with very little meat.  When I say very little meat…they sometimes eat meat but not very often…and there’s NO PORK in Arabic countries. 

They need very little sleep (3-4 hours). 

The lifestyle is very different, but it’s also very peaceful.  NO STRESS.

There are many factors that have to be studied in understanding what the cures are along with the preventative health measures that are taken.  Many of the medicines developed by the Berber medicine shops are for people like us…those who are not Berber and don’t live out in the desert.  Their methods are very helpful.  I’ve found instant relief in many of their cures.  But I’ve also found that it’s good to always use their methods, like drinking mint tea after every meal, in order to keep the symptoms from returning.

Drinking one cup of the medicinal tea each morning also helps calm my stomach and it takes the pain away from my left lung so that I can breathe easier.

For those who do order the migraine oil, let me know how it works out.  I bought a bottle for a friend, so I’m hoping it works for her.  If you buy anything else from the shop, let me know what you think of the product.  I know the Argan Oil lotion has been a favorite amongst my girlfriends.  They were so happy I brought a jar back for them.  They like it better than the stuff being sold in America.  It may have a little thing to do with…Morocco keeps everything all natural.

1.  Drugs in the NHL?  Why is this so surprising?  OR Was it just faux pas to discuss it?  It’s funny, I was telling someone recently while we were sitting at a restaurant in Prague…I was pondering talking about drugs in the NHL…and what I know.  Certain players would be suing me for telling the truth about what I know.  But then I don’t want to burn that NHL bridge, so I decided against it when I write about my final season.

So now Georges Laraque is under attack from the media because he started talking about doping in the NHL?  Why does this surprise anyone?  Or are they just surprised someone came forward and had the balls to actually talk about it?  I give Georges credit for publishing what I was thinking about publishing myself. 

At any rate, I can’t wait to get my hands on Laraque’s new book (scheduled to be released on November 8).  He doesn’t name names as far as the doping is concerned.  BUT he does talk about the stuff I love to hear him talking about…about being a better person.  That’s what I admire about Georges.  He’s got a big heart and he’s always trying to use his celebrity to inspire others to be better people. 

I do question why the media is attacking him for talking about doping and drugs in the NHL.  Like they don’t know this stuff happens.

Theoren Fleury?  What about Todd Fedoruk talking to USA Today about his drug addiction partying hard alongside Derek Boogaard?  Derek was also Georges’ friend.  Georges found out from me that Derek had died.  So keep in mind that he’s thinking of his friend by publishing what he has to say about drugs and doping in the NHL.  Maybe he’s bringing the story to the forefront so that he can save other lives in the NHL.  Something to think about…

2.  Schedule.  Because I have to finish not just one book, but two books in the upcoming months, I had to sit down and really take control of my schedule and not let it overrun my life with too much to do and too little time to do it in.  Usually, I attend every Devils home game that I can while I’m in town.  BUT because I’m working on deadlines, I’m limiting myself to home games during the week so that I can focus on my home and other working projects on the weekends.

Originally, we had lined up someone to help me out at the beginning of the season so that I could focus on finishing “Losing 100 Pounds of Unhappiness.”  BUT things didn’t go as planned and I lost my colleague to Syracuse University’s grad school program.  I’m just going to have to make do with what I can, when I can.

Speaking of Laraque and my schedule…I’m scheduled to meet with him next month for a couple of days.  He’ll be cooking for me (well…in the raw vegan sense)…and talking about a lot of different topics.  This was all HIS idea. I’m very honored he thought of me.  We’ll be working on video segments as well as written work…and maybe he’ll let me be a photographer and photograph him in the ‘cool’ sense of the word. 

I also got word that the Winter Classic is very likely on my schedule.  I’ll probably be covering the Rangers aspect…or I’ll do like I did last time and cover the entire aspect of it in the NHL sense.  {Why do I feel certain Flyers fans are going to be giggling and saying…nope…this is in a Jagr sense?}

3. Upping the Savings.  I’m supposed to be working my derriere off for the next six months.  Why?  Well, when you’re planning a new life, especially one that takes you to a new country, you have a lot of work to do before then.  For me, that’s getting 2 books to the publishers, correlating all information from my final season with the NHL, cleaning out the home and sticking a lot of stuff on Ebay, donating stuff to charity, setting up shop to make sure I have a business running and in place when I leave the country, getting ready for my last Christmas, getting the photographs up and ready for sale…

In other words, a lot of this all surrounds amassing as much money as I can before I leave the country.  In April, I have to drop around $7,000 just to head to the desert for six days (and travel the remaining 8 days around the country gathering more stories and photos) to decide what we’re doing…better yet, decide where I’m moving.  Driss told me to just move to a city in Morocco…live four hours from the desert.  The nomad can visit on his days off or I can go to visit him on his days off.

Moving to a foreign country costs money.  I will probably not have a job, so I’ll need to have income coming in somehow.  My ticket to doing that just so happens to surround setting up consistent income from the USA while I’m away.  Sell a couple of books, stories, etc. equals steady income for a few years.  Cost of living is low, so I can rent a place for the next 9 years for next to nothing based on what I already have saved up.

But me, being the worry wart about money, has to make sure that I have more than enough money saved to last me a very, very, very long time.  If you notice, I’m not depending on my future hubby’s income.  I’m depending on my own.  You can say that if there’s anything I learned from my mother…stockpiling money and saving it up, despite the hubby’s income, is very important for the ‘just in case.’

Keep in mind, I make more money than he does in one year as compared to seven years income for him.  Granted, I could just be a nomad, but I like electricity too much…and running water.  Those are two things that will probably keep me from being a desert nomad for the rest of my life. 😉

4. This Is What Dating Is Like.  Hamid told me to come back to the desert in a year and he’ll take me out into the desert for six days and we will decide what to do.  But I can’t wait a year.  I gave him six months. 

You see…desert nomads believe that if it’s love, that love will always return to you.  They are wanderers and rarely if ever stay in one spot.  They believe in not looking at love as a possession, but as something that is as free as they are. 

In this case, falling in love and letting it go…if it was meant to be…it will come back to you.  In Berber tradition, waiting a year is usual.  Both families normally meet each other to decide whether this is a good match before allowing the couple to date for 1 year.  That 1 year is basically a promise to marry.  Rings are exchanged and everything.  But in that year, they can break up if things don’t work out.  But if they do work out, they marry (3 day wedding), and spend the rest of their lives together.  They do not divorce.

The wife is usually accustomed to their husband leaving and coming back.  What usually brings him back is love.  Nomads are wanderers and can be gone for six months…sometimes three years.  Why do you think Driss keeps telling me to move to the city?  Maybe so I won’t be bored out of my mind or on the verge of the Shining or something out in the desert all by myself.

That’s what is so interesting about this…a nomad falling in love with someone and then letting them go to wander away from him…he has enough faith in God to know that if this really is love…she’ll return to him in the desert.  He already knows that I’m coming back in six months. 

After the first two weeks of being away from him, I thought I was going to go nuts.  I can’t call him, email him, or send him a letter.  He doesn’t have a phone, the internet or a mailing address.  I have to send someone to the desert to talk to him for me. 

My colleague told me that not being able to communicate through normal means makes the story even more romantic.  It really tests you to make sure that what you are feeling is very real.  It makes you fall deeper in love with each other. 

I had to tell myself to let go of needing to talk to him or hear from him.  I have to wait six months.  If I don’t let go of needing to feel that connection…I’m going to go crazy.  It took a week for me to learn to let go, but it took “The Alchemist” to realize that this is what happens in those love stories from God.  You can feel the kiss on the wind from thousands of miles away.  You can see the sun rising over the mountains of Algeria, and feel him tell you that he misses you and that he wishes you were there with him watching another sunrise. 

That’s the magic and beauty of it all.  You let your souls do the talking to each other from thousands of miles away.  If the souls do not talk to each other during that time…it wasn’t meant to be.  It wasn’t love.

But I can tell you, it’s love alright.  I felt his happiness last week when he learned that I would be back in six months.  Now, I’m just waiting for the messenger to get back to me to confirm that all is okay with coming back in April. 

If anything, I think I like dating this way.  When Hamid described it to me, I could only respond, “This is how dating should be.”  For us, we just let our souls do the talking.

I like God’s hand in writing love stories.  All I can point to is “The Alchemist.”  That explains the story being written about the two of us perfectly.  This is just how things are done in the nomad tradition.  It makes the love story much more meaningful.  Until April, we’ll just have to count the sunrises and sunsets over our respective abodes until we see each other again.

That’s a lot of sunrises in New York City.

Here are this week’s Top 5 Loves.

1.  Kovalchuk’s Got a Brand New Bag.  I’ve had serious mad love for my new Fendi messenger bag that I picked up a few months ago.  I’ve been carrying it around (only in NYC area, not internationally) since early September.  So imagine my surprise when I found out that someone else likes the couture logo happy messenger bag style. 

Spotted in the New Jersey Devils locker room…Ilya Kovalchuk’s new Louis Vuitton messenger bag.

I have nothing but MAD LOVE for that new bag.  {This is not the exact one, because Louis Vuitton makes a few men’s styles, and I think Kovy has the lighter version of this bag…which is not on sale online…and rare to find.  Sorry…I glimpsed at it for 2 seconds, just long enough to make out the LV pattern and the messenger bag.}

His new bag inspired me to start shopping for my next bag:  another vintage Louis Vuitton to add to my purse collection, but this one’s the Alma signature bag I’ve been thinking about for the last four months.

2. Learning How To Be a Better Photographer.  I came across this article “22 Things You Can Do Today To Change Your Photography Forever” which gave me more ideas on what to do with my thousands upon thousands of pictures I’ve taken over the last few years.  While I’ve been contemplating Zazzle.com and creating some tote bags for friends to put their Christmas gifts in, this article actually gave me even more ideas on how to start putting my work out there more.  Give the article a whirl if you are a photographer.  Not only will you pick up some ideas on how to promote your work, but it will give you even more ideas on how to become a better photographer.  After all, one of the many reasons why I’m moving to Africa…my next dream is to photograph for National Geographic.  (Check out the NG link…some great photos and articles from NG photographers on how they do what they do.)

3.  Pinterest.  For those who like to be inspired for your home, wardrobe, DIY projects or what have you…this site is great for inspiration.  It will also link you up to other blogs where you can learn how to make a lot of recipes, DIY projects, or just find something of interest (that’s where I found the 22 Things Photography post).  The pictures are always awe inspiring. 

Case in point, those Zazzle.com tote bags I’ve been pondering, well, thanks to Pinterest, I found MarthaStewart.com gives a tutorial on how I can transfer my photographs and images that I’ve designed onto a canvas tote bag myself!  It’s a very easy DIY project that I can do at home and play around with instead of depending on a manufacturer to make them for me.

4.  Everything Fab.  I like the idea of sharing on the 5 Friday Loves, a new blog with you that I am currently stalking religiously.  Thanks to Twitter, I’ve been introduced to a few of the girls in this lovely blogging community…and it’s a ‘tight’ community.  You start to get to know these girls on Twitter, but better yet, they start to inspire you with the things that they find.  I always love the pictures they take and post up.

It’s like looking into the day in the life of someone else through pictures…and you learn some tips and tricks from home decor to fashion (I LOVE both topics).  So give them a whirl…they always get me thinking about how I can take some of their ideas and apply it to my life.  We call that INSPIRATION!

5.  New Jersey Devils’ Own Petr Sykora.  Now, before the jealous types start asking…why is Petr Sykora on my Top 5 Friday Loves list…it’s actually quite innocent.  ESPN did a story on professional athletes that wear their wedding band when they play in games.  NJD’s own Petr Sykora has been caught out on the ice wearing his.  When I think back to the first time I ever saw Sykora years ago…that wedding band was a part of who he was…and what I loved about it…he just radiates that love he has for his wife.  It’s so beautiful to see that love.  That ring is his commitment to that love.  READ THIS to see who else wears their wedding band during the game.

* * * * * * * *

I leave you with a little love poem from Rumi . . .

The minute I heard my first love story,

I started looking for you, not knowing

how blind that was.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,

they’re in each other all along.

{Going to forewarn you that I’m talking about everything that’s on my mind today…so pay attention…lots of different stuff, including that thing called sports.}

I spent most of Day 55 going through 100s of photos from Paris, Rabat, Meknes and Volublis.  The next Moroccan post that I go back to is the one that everyone in Morocco (that I met) is waiting for…my tour of Fes. 

I forgot that most of my tour of Fes wound up on my BlackBerry because I had exceeded my photo limit on my SD card for the camera (oops…forgot to transfer all of the pics onto the laptop).  So now that all of those BB photos are transferred to Facebook, I’ll collect them later for the slideshow. 

It’s funny about inspiration…when you’re doing the things you love to do, you feel even more inspired to do other things…and well, inspire others along the way too.

This weekend, due to the lovely October snowstorm (really, the universe just likes to keep reminding me why I’m destined for the desert…not one single sign says to stay in NYC), I got a chance to get through some of my photos and bake two batches of cornbread (one with jalapenos, the other with the corn relish I canned earlier this summer).

There’s a part of me that says…continue/finish decorating the apartment like I planned before I left the country (as if I wasn’t leaving).  The other part of me says not to worry about decorating and continue on, because I can ship it all to Morocco when the time comes.  I’m just in that uncertainty period where I start to ask myself again and again…am I really moving to Morocco?  Am I really in love with this guy?  I must be insane…

Then I look up and see a sign saying, “What is your heart telling you?”  My heart is telling me that I’ve already committed my heart and soul to someone in Morocco.  All of the signs in my life are pointing to Morocco.  So I guess I should stop questioning myself, right?

There’s something I haven’t discussed yet as one of the main reasons (besides love) why Morocco has become the new destination in my life. 

When I was out in the sand dunes with Hamid, I was telling him about cancer…as in “I have cancer.”  He looked at me funny when I said that because he didn’t know what the word was. 

I tried to explain it to him.  The entire time he kept looking at me, trying to understand this sickness…this disease.  He didn’t understand it at all.  Then he says to me, “The nomad people don’t have this cancer.  Sure, they get sick every now and again, but we have plants to cure the sickness.”

Do you see what’s passing through my mind after that?  Nomads don’t have cancer.  No one has ever had cancer.  No one has ever had any of the symptoms I described to him.  No one has had tumors…they die of either an accident or old age.

I’m thinking…maybe there’s a cure here.  Maybe there’s something about the nomadic lifestyle that prevents people from having cancer. 

Maybe I can be cured.

The Sahara Desert has mystical and very magical healing properties.  I can’t even begin to re-tell all of the stories I was told about the Sahara’s healing properties.  People just lay out in the sand and then they’re cured.  Don’t ask me how it works…it’s magic.

I’m sure if most pro athletes that suffered from severe muscle pains and injuries headed to the sand dunes of the Sahara, they could walk away in 3 days time completely healed (as some people have told me…they leave better than new).  All of this is accomplished without surgery or drugs.

I can even attest to the magical healing properties of the desert.  It healed my heart and my soul…and then made me fall in love with the guy sitting next to me just a few seconds later…someone I never would have dreamed of falling in love with (I mean…come on…me, a girl from NYC, fall in love with a Muslim Arab nomad…who does that?).  That’s why I keep talking about how I’m not sure if the Sahara was playing tricks on me or if I really did fall in love with a nomad.  She seriously does this to people!

As my time grows closer and closer to leaving the US, there seems to be a bucket list forming.  Take Christmas, for example…on Friday, I thought about what kind of Christmas tree I was going to have…but I like this idea so much better…

What’s great about this option is that I can give the trees away to someone when I move away.  The trees can either be kept in their home, or they can pull the trees out and plant them in their yard.  I can even give one of them to my brother to plant in his yard.

What I also like about the trees in the pitcher option is that they are very much alive and thriving…which makes them even more beautiful to look at.  Who would have thought of putting pine trees in a pitcher or a vase?  LOVE IT!

I also found another DIY gift for my friends.  Since this will be my last Christmas with them, I wanted to make the gifts more personal and something they will remember me by (photos are definitely part of the gift bags). 

I found another recipe that all of my friends will love and enjoy.  Peppermint stick cocoa!  

Doesn’t it look delish?  It’s very simple to make and the jars are very easy to find online at either Sur La Table or Crate & Barrel. 

I’ll have to figure out an all vegan/vegetarian option for this recipe.  I think a certain former Canadien might like something like this too…if I can figure out how to do this in a vegan option.  {Maybe I should just Google DIY vegan gifts.}

Speaking of hockey…I return to hockey this Wednesday.  I also wasn’t scheduled to do the Winter Classic…but my editor is now telling me that it’s a possibility, because you know…it is my final season.  Not getting my hopes up, because I’m okay if I don’t go.  I’ve got All-Stars later that month with Winter Adams…and then that whole…Morocco trip in April (going to cost more than the last trip). 

Speaking of the final season…I’m watching the NBA lockout right now, because like most of us on the 2012 NHL lockout watch are doing, we’re watching what the NBA will do, because it is a precursor to what will happen during the 2012 CBA talks.  So union reps, I’ll be looking to get some input on what you think and see as the NBA talks continue and how it will relate to the future 2012 talks.  For those interested, the NBAPA tweeted this article which is very much worth the read.  Just a pissing match…and the NBA benefitting off of a bunch of jocks that aren’t so smart.  Oh, I pray the jocks get smart with this one or face getting screwed.  

I did mention back in July that one of the reasons why this is my last season has a little something to do with the upcoming lockout that I think many of us are expecting to see.  Then again, I had a feeling in July my world was changing and it was time to move on to the next phase in life. 

The weird part in all of this…the movers and shakers of the NHL have been sending me emails and messages about the NBA lockout.  If it wasn’t on my radar before, it’s now on my radar.

Next, I see NBA people are following me.  I even got an email about some NBA job openings in Minnesota.  I don’t think my life is moving towards the NBA, but right now…all I can say is that what’s happening now…the universe is dropping it into my lap saying, “PAY ATTENTION.”  And if I haven’t started paying attention…the who’s who of the NHL are telling me to “PAY ATTENTION.”

Maybe you should be, too.

I love Paris.  The only thing I don’t like about it is all of the smoking.  All of the smoking alone would prevent me from ever moving to Paris. 

Out of the four stops in Paris last month, I was only able to get out and photograph the city two times.  The main places were the Latin Quarter, the Notre Dame and the Sacre Coeur. 

The main reason why I went to Paris was to take photos I’ve been wanting to hang in my kitchen.  I’ve been searching for the right look for 5 years now and no photos came across as ones I’d want to grace my kitchen walls.  So I gave up looking for the right photo and decided to just go to Paris and take the photos myself.

The day I was supposed to go to the Eiffel Tower and L’Arche de Triomphe, I ended up getting sick (thanks to the cigarette smoke).  I ended up staying in the hotel and sleeping all day, so I never got out to take the photos I wanted.  Instead, I got over 139 photos of Paris…and I think that’s good enough.

Of my favorite places we saw on Day 31, the 5th century Roman ruins in Volubilis tops the day.  In the pictures, what you see is what is left of this once great city of Volubilis, one of the many cities controlled by the Romans. 

From mosaics of Roman legends including Hercules, Medusa and Venus, you can still find them in tact over 2000 years later.  They are still as beautiful now, as I can imagine they were then.  Many of the mosaics uncovered have actually been restored.

In the slideshow, you will see a picture of a carving of a penis.  I guess that deserves some sort of explanation.  That stone carving was used to ‘point’ the direction to the nearest brothel.  As you can also see, the penis is circumcised, which means that this certain brothel was for Jewish men.

While Hassan was showing me around his paradise of Volubilis, we ran across a few young couples sitting in the ruins talking to each other.  As much as Hassan was annoyed by these young lovers that come from the college nearby, I snapped a photo of two of them (in the traditional sense…the woman’s face you cannot see). 

In a way, when I think of Morocco, I think of this kind of quiet, very special romantic love shared in some of the most beautiful places I’ve ever feasted my eyes on.  After all, watching the sun setting in Volubilis over the Roman ruins is something you’ll never forget.  It adds to that special romantic charm.

After my tour, Hassan explained to me that every single day he gets to see this paradise of Volubilis, but that day, he said, “Looking at you has been paradise to my eyes.”  Such a poet…but then again, that’s the kind of stuff I heard throughout this amazing country called Morocco.  Do you blame me for wanting to move there permanently? 

If you could spend every day seeing the beauty of paradise, hear someone tell you how beautiful you are, and spend it sitting next to someone your soul has intertwined in love with, watching the sun setting, the sun rising, and the stars in between…and feel God everywhere and love in every single person surrounding you…wouldn’t you feel absolutely complete?

As Driss and I drove away from Volubilis on our way to Fes, we spent the next hour watching the sun setting in the distance as we circled down the mountains.  To see the sky changing colors against the Atlas Mountains in the distance, that is beauty beyond comparison.  It’s a paradise of its own.

 

On Day 31, we stopped in a lot of cities on the way to Fes.  After leaving Casablanca, we headed to Rabat where Hassan Tower stands (from the 12th century).  We also stopped into one of the most beautiful areas in Rabat…all enclosed behind a fortress wall.  I stumbled upon a spot overlooking the sea where this young boy followed me to the wall, begging me for some food while he watched me take photos. 

He was so sweet and so hungry.  I gave him 10 dirham.  Before I could give him more, he started jumping up and down, so happy that I gave him some money, that before I could pull out some more change, he ran off to buy some food. 

He was just so sweet talking to me in Arabic, trying to point to things and tell me about the sea.  It just breaks my heart to see a child so hungry, trying to earn just a coin or two just to buy something to eat.  What was even more heartbreaking was that it was apparent that he had a disability.  You always have to ask where the parents are…and wonder if maybe he was just an orphan.

Maybe next time, if I see him again, I’ll find out if he’s an orphan or not.  If he is, you better believe he’ll be coming home with me. 

But without ado…here are the photos from Rabat.

I’m going to attempt to do something new.  Every Friday I’m going to post up my top 5 loves of the week.  Could be anything…from this, that or hockey.  Here are my top 5 loves for this week.

1.  FABFATALE.COM.  My favorite blog I love to stalk (The Looks For Less) has released a sister site called Fab Fatale (where I borrowed her Friday Fab 5 idea).  Like always…the site is always very colorful and it’s filled with very important information.  Unlike The Looks for Less, Fab Fatale is not just a fashion site.  It’s everything from cooking to do-it-yourself projects (DIY). 

I really like how she’s introduced me to more beautiful sites where I can learn a whole lot more about the things I love to do from other bloggers out there.  It’s also inspiring to pick up a few ideas for your own home, life and the people around you.  Check out the site.  Her ‘white’ post has been sparking more ideas for my office.

2.  Missoni For Target.  After that big mess back in September when Target.com went down shortly after the Missoni for Target collection was released and then the collection wildly showing up on Ebay for 2x+ the cost shortly thereafter…I decided to wait a bit.  I didn’t want to go batty like everyone else did (okay…I was mad there was nothing left).  So I waited until Target.com came back up to take a look at the inventory.

There were a few scraps here and there.  But the one thing I was looking for just so happened to be one of the only things that was still available.  I didn’t want to purchase the ottoman I saw in House Beautiful right then and there, because it would arrive while I was out of the country.  I said to myself, “If it’s still available when I get back, I’m going to order it because it was just meant to be.”

Luckily, I came back and the only thing I wanted from the Missoni for Target collection was still available.  I got it for $102 after taxes (I got $5 off from one of the corporate programs I’m a member of…shipping was FREE).  It arrived just 5 business days later.  I opened it up, put it in my office and it looks BEAUTIFUL.  It’s more beautiful than the picture. 

The cat has claimed it as HERS, because she believes the second bedroom (aka my office) is her room.  She looks like royalty sitting up on top of this ottoman. 

I loved it so much, I plan on buying the blue version for my bedroom.  It was well worth the wait and the investment.  The piece makes me really happy.  I’m so glad I was able to get the only thing I had been lusting after from the collection.

I decided that I’m going to buy the pieces I love for my home and ship it to Morocco when it comes time to move.  It’s cheaper to ship it to Morocco (by boat) than to buy all new furniture there.  My future husband would have to shop without me, because they like to mark up the price to no end when they see an American!  [I mean, how do you explain to your husband you spent $7,000 USD on a desk?]

3. The Alchemist. I’m re-reading “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho.  The book was very inspiring for me back in 2007, but re-reading it now, it has a different meaning to me.  It’s a way for me to look back on everything that’s happened over the last four years and to see where I am now in my life. 

In a way, it’s like saying…your personal legend is entering its new phase.  It just reassures me that I’m making the right decision by following my heart.

4.  Christmas Shopping.  So…I started Christmas shopping already.  This is my last Christmas.  I’ve already invited my brother to come out to NYC this Christmas because it may be one of the last times we’ll see each other in a long time.  My brother is very supportive of my Moroccan decision.  Hell, all my friends that have known me for years are very happy because as my best friend Sabrina says…she’s never heard me talk about someone like this before.  She’s so happy that I’ve finally found someone this special.

Knowing all of this…my brother realizes that if this is going to be our last Christmas together before I adopt a new religion and culture, we should go out in style.

I’ve already started buying gifts for friends.  Today’s Buried Bauble was a perfect gift for my young friend and colleague.  She’ll love it because she loves this kind of stuff.  The DIY vanilla extract has me shopping for various bottles and jars at Sur La Table and Crate & Barrel. 

I may be buying some decorative jars and canning some of my corn relish to give out as gifts this year.  It’s one of the summer staples that I love to eat all year long (Food & Wine has the best recipe by far).  It’s also great to use in making cornbread.  [For those who decide to make the corn relish, don’t use sugar.  I use honey as a substitute.  It tastes so much better and it’s also healthier for you.]

I still have no clue what to get my brother beyond a $500 Target gift card (he just bought a new house recently and could use some home items in his new place).  I’m hoping I figure out what else to get him before Christmas. 

As far as decorating…this is going to be my first and last Christmas tree.  I plan on going all white and using silver and blue ornaments.  Afterwards, I’ll donate the ornaments to some friend or charity.  Hopefully, they’ll be able to put it to use.

Speaking of charity…the Toys for Tots kids are getting Rockstar Mickey for Christmas.  Blame Constantine Maroulis for that one!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aDOfaZmiobc&feature=related] [Review from Mom on this next video:  We got our Rock Star Mickey 4 days after it hit the stores for my sons 3rd birthday. It was only $49 at Toys R Us as a promo for the first 2 weeks. Now it costs $55. He is obsessed with the toy. When we go to Toys R Us or Target, he still wants to watch the display demo over and over even though he owns one now. He has so much fun dancing with it, does the splits in the middle of the store and gets lots of attention from on looking shoppers. We weren’t sure if my son would still play with Rock Star Mickey once we brought it home but he plays with for hours on end by himself. Its actually helps my toddler exercise! So I give this toy props for occupying my son. It plays 2 songs and has a ‘rock star training’ mode where it explains the dance moves. I give this toy a 5 star rating. Good quality, entertainment, construction, and robotics. Rock Star Mickey is a kind of loud, and there is no volume control. By the way, Mickey does not play the guitar with his nose. It says he does on the box, but he really just lifts the guitar in the air. I wish it had more songs and dance moves like Dance Star Mickey, but he is also $20 less than Dance Star Mickey was, so it’s worth it.]

While I was in Morocco, Driss and I had a lot of time together traveling from one spot in Morocco to the next.  There was something that was mentioned.  I can’t quite remember if it was Driss or a tour guide who said it to me (pretty sure it was Driss), but he said that I should look at the path in my life.  Look back at it and see the journey.  Look to see that God (Allah) is leading you somewhere.  You can see the map.

When he said that I started to think about the last decade.  It’s been a crazy, strange, wild and amazing ride.  I’ve thought about the heartaches.  I’ve thought about the pain.  I’ve thought about the loss.  I’ve thought about the changing points.  I’ve thought about the success.  I’ve thought about my failures.  I realized…it was just one big map to understanding where I was standing in that very moment.

I was standing in a bookstore in Marrakech a few weeks ago.  My guide was ordering the Qur’an for me in English.  While we were waiting for the bookseller to go through his stock to find the book, I started to watch the other Muslim Arabs around me.  I had my back glued to the glass bookcase, trying to stay out of everyone’s way in the small space while my guide negotiated for the English Qur’an. 

I watched as the book transactions took place from one person to the next.  My mind started to drift back to the sand dunes of the Sahara, thinking about Hamid…and for some odd reason I thought of “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho.  It was one of the first books I read after my grandfather died in 2007 when my entire world started to change. 

I kept thinking how my trip had become so much like the pages out of the book of “The Alchemist” when just two short seconds later I see the bookseller bring out a copy of “The Alchemist” in Arabic and sell it to a lady in front of me.  Odd, right?  But it was strangely synchronistic.

I told Winter Adams yesterday that she should pick up a copy of “The Alchemist.”  I don’t know, I feel like I need to fill her with so much information before I leave…before the season ends and I move forward in life. 

I picked up my own copy while I was texting her and it opened up to a part in the book that ended up feeling like it was the exact point in my life that my own personal legend was happening. 

“Fatima arrived and filled her vessel with water.  “I came to tell you just one thing,” the boy said.  “I want you to be my wife.  I love you.”  The girl dropped the container, and the water spilled.  “I’m going to wait here for you every day.  I have crossed the desert in search of a treasure that is somewhere near the Pyramids, and for me, the war seemed a curse.  But now it’s a blessing, because it brought me to you.”

To me, that’s a very odd passage to come across randomly.  Why?  The irony here…the nomad gave me the nickname ‘Fatima.’  While I was in the bookstore, I kept thinking that the boy in “The Alchemist” reminded me of Hamid.  He used to be a sheepherder, just like the boy.  He used to sit there for years watching his flock, before he decided to step away from that life and settle into one town, have one job.  But the desert…you can’t take that away from his soul.

Paulo Coelho was able to accurately describe the life of the nomad in “The Alchemist.”  Would you believe that most nomads end up going to a big city or a new place just to find their own path in life?  Josef went to Majorca, Spain (but then came back to the desert).  There are other nomads that tell me of their brothers that went to Australia or France or Seattle, Washington.  Those guys…they left because they met a tourist out in the desert and fell in love.  They followed her to her home country.

Berber tradition dictates that he has to follow the girl to her home country.  Trust me, there are many stories about nomads that follow that girl they had fallen so madly in love with.

As I look back at these past few years, I can see God’s map of my life.  I can see all of the dots connecting in amazing ways.  Being a writer and traveling the world, talking about the people I meet, and the stories they tell me…that was my own personal legend.  I got my feet wet with that path thanks to the NHL.  I was able to tell the stories of hockey players and the NHL over the years.  I was able to travel all over the world thanks to the NHL.  In a way, the NHL helped me get my life started in the right direction.  It’s like Santiago (Coelho’s character).  He had to at first start at the bottom and work his way up to finding the next step on his path in life. 

Every single time I drink tea from a little glass, I think of Santiago in “The Alchemist.”  I think about how this novel invention of drinking tea from a glass changed the way tea is enjoyed in Arabic countries.  I enjoyed it so much, I not only bought tea and a silver tea kettle, but I also had a set of Moroccan tea glasses gifted to me by the shop owner.  I have tea all of the time now in those little glasses.  That’s a habit I picked up in Morocco that I enjoy more than anything.

In the book, taking two ideas and creating a new one that could benefit all…that is how a new path was discovered for Santiago. 

Before my grandfather died, he said to me that it was only after I got on my path in life that love, marriage and a family would come my way.  The only way I could have those things were if I was on that path.  If I wasn’t on my path, none of those things would come my way.  That was back in 2007.  A month or two later, “The Alchemist” fell into my hands…almost explaining what my grandfather had told me to do. 

My grandfather had never read that book. 

Katrina Cady always mentions that when she visits me she sneezes…like a ghost is in my building.  We’ve pinpointed that it’s probably my grandfather.  It’s funny that while I was away, my friend told me that every time she came by, the photo collage of my grandfather kept falling down from the wall and she couldn’t figure out why.  She kept putting it back up, and it kept falling back down.

When I got home, I couldn’t understand why the frame was down, so I put it back up.  It’s not fallen down since I put it back up.  I think maybe it was just my grandfather’s way of trying to tell my friend that he was there each time she came by the apartment. 

I sometimes catch the cat looking up at something, or standing there talking to someone.  When I ask her what she’s looking at or who she’s talking to, she stops, looks at me and then looks the other way…like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.  But I know who she’s talking to.

My psychologist once said to me that she believed that I refused to marry because my grandfather said he would be the one to walk me down the aisle.  It was my refusal to marry that perhaps meant that it would prolong his life.  Maybe I saw a sort of finality to our time together if he walked me down the aisle. 

I think there’s more to it.  Before he died, his last words to me were the words that changed my life completely.  I wouldn’t have become a writer if he hadn’t told me to become the person I dreamed of being.  He gave me the secrets to life and how to have an amazing life, just one month before he died.  To me, that was the greatest treasure he could have ever given to me.  It’s worth more than money, houses, stocks, jewels, real estate, cars, or anything he could have left for me in his Will. 

It’s the things left in the Will for me that ended up getting me ousted out of the family…that whole ‘why is Michelle so special…she’s not special at all’ that you hear coming from my aunt’s mouth.  That stuff left on paper…that’s the stuff you see in probate court.  The stuff worth millions more…that’s the stuff whispered into the ear of a young woman trying to find her way in this lifetime…trying to find her way out of a very dark place in her life.  He was trying to throw me a flashlight and help me find my own way out of that pit of sorrow.

There’s a contingency in my grandfather’s Will.  In order to access the funds, we have to live the dream.  We have to make the dream become a reality in order to access anymore money from the Will.  But to me, that money means nothing.  What is worth more to me is the life I’ve found.

For those who have read “The Alchemist” I can only say that the book is very real.  Living your dreams can be very real.  It takes courage to find your path in life.  It takes faith that God will lead you in the right direction.  It takes having an open mind and being open to possibilities that will direct you along that road.

When I announced back in July that this would be my final season writing about hockey, I mentioned that it seemed like everything was finally coming full circle at last.  Outside of hockey, I’m being told in a foreign land…look at the map of your life and see how it has led you to this exact point in your life.

I started re-reading “The Alchemist” last night.  The author’s note in the beginning noted that his publisher said, “reading The Alchemist was like getting up at dawn and seeing the sun rise while the rest of the world still slept.”

Ever since I met Hamid, I wake up at the Moroccan sunrise and can see the sun rising over Algeria in the distance.  I can feel the sun’s rays on my skin, the sun blinding my eyes while they are still closed.  It becomes so bright that I have to open them to see that it’s after 1AM in New York City and it’s still dark outside.

You never forget the sunrise in the Sahara Desert.  You also don’t miss a special moment where a nomad takes your hand and shows you a second sunrise over the dunes.  THAT is something you never forget.  Two sunrises in one morning.

For some strange reason, reading “The Alchemist” again is like bringing everything full circle.  It’s looking back and seeing how everything began right as my grandfather died.  I started an incredible journey in life that so many people are jealous of.  There are many that say I don’t deserve it.  They deserve that spot.  They deserve that life. 

No…you don’t deserve my life.  You deserve YOUR LIFE.  You deserve to take the lessons from my life, the experiences I’ve shared and let it inspire you to reach for your own dreams.  It’s designed to show you that we all have our own paths in life.  The only way you can make your dreams come true is if you get on your path in life.  You have to open your mind and your life up to the infinite number of possibilities that can be shown to you.  You have experiences yet to unfold…and they belong to NO ONE, but YOU.  You can’t have someone else’s life.  That’s their own personal legend.  But you can have a life just as remarkable as theirs…so long as you are on your own path in life.

We may never know where the road is leading us, but we know it’s leading us somewhere.  Coelho talked about how people that are on their path in life…those living their own personal legend…they experience great suffering.  They sometimes suffer more than other people. 

He says, “The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times…Because, once we have overcome the defeats-and we always do-we are filled by a great sense of euphoria and confidence.  In the silence of our hearts, we know that we are proving ourselves worthy of the miracle of life.  Each day, each hour, is part of the good fight.”

I always think of how if that rockstar hadn’t broken my heart, I never would have gone to New York.  I never would have found new friends.  I never would have found hockey or a new meaning in my life. 

I also think about the cancer and how becoming so weak, made my spirit stronger.  It taught me how to live.

I think about Kevin and how his death didn’t destroy my life.  Letting go helped me to discover a new soulmate.  It helped me to love again.

I think about how coming to New York helped me to find God (of all places).  I found what I was looking for here.

I lost the greatest man in my life…he taught me how I could have the most amazing life possible.  He gave me a dream in his death…a dream meant to come true.  I learned through the loss of my grandfather, that I was not only destined for great things…but I had a choice in living in darkness, or living in a world that is too good to be true.  I found my own personal legend.

I lost my best friend when she betrayed me…and I also lost a mother.  But what God showed me was that what happened, no matter how evil, she did out of love so that I could become an even better person.  The act was designed a long time ago to push me on my path in life.  It would help shape what I was about to do in this world…to do good, while she took on the evil.  I have to remember that she did it out of love so that her daughter could do good in this world.

There are things that are unexplainable, but Carl Jung said a long time ago that science and math may not be able to explain these things, but they do exist.  Synchronicity of the universe exists.

If you haven’t read “The Alchemist,” pick it up, read it and learn from it.  If I could tell you that the things he talks about is 100% true, would you change your entire life?  I believed in what he wrote, and watched my life change for the better.  I watched something amazing happen.  I realized that I am more in control of my own universe than most people believe they are.  You can have a shitty life, or you can have an amazing life.  That choice is really up to you.  You control your own universe.

As I look back at these past few years, with everything in my universe coming full circle, I can see a new path forming.  There are people that don’t believe in those paths that tell you that they think you’re crazy.  You shouldn’t do it.  They have a bad feeling about it.  Those are all people that never lived the dream.  They don’t see the sun rising in the horizon at dawn while others are sleeping.  They don’t see two sunrises in the morning, because someone showed them that it was possible.

They don’t know what it’s like to be on their own path in life.  For me, I know the next path sounds crazy…but it’s just about as crazy as the one I took back in 2004 when I moved to New York City.  I gave two weeks notice, packed up my things and left.  I didn’t even have a place to live lined up.  Everything just fell into place so quickly and I knew I had made the right choice.

It’s a lot like now.  I’ve been waiting for any sign to say…this is a mistake.  The only mistake I feel like I made…was getting on that plane in Casablanca to come back home.  That is the ONLY mistake I feel like I made.  It’s a mistake I regret and am trying to rectify.

There are days I feel like I’m going to go insane because I can’t get a hold of the nomad.  He doesn’t have a cell phone, email or a mailing address.  I have to literally wait two weeks for the tour company to find him in the desert to let him know when I’ll be back in Morocco.  Then I have to wait until April to see him again.  The whole time I keep praying that he doesn’t fall in love with someone else.  Trust me, it’s driving me insane. 

I just have to keep telling myself to put him out of my mind.  Write the story, send it to the publishers.  Write the story, send it to the publishers.  Then when it’s all done, it will be time to go back.

Who knows…I may go back in April and realize…he’s not the one for me.  Maybe the door will close on Morocco.  Maybe I’ll fall for some guy here.  There are six months between now and then and God can make anything happen during that time.  But for whatever reason…everything points to me leaving the US and not for the reasons you think.

It’s just time to start that journey I told my grandfather I wanted to take back in May 2007.  I wanted to travel the world and write the stories of the people I meet.  My grandfather told me, “Then do that.”  It’s just time to live that dream.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktRsl2hAPhY]

And there are voices
that want to be heard.
So much to mention
but you can’t find the words.
The scent of magic,
the beauty that’s been
when love was wilder than the wind.

Listen to your heart
when he’s calling for you.
Listen to your heart
there’s nothing else you can do.
I don’t know where you’re going
and I don’t know why,
but listen to your heart
before you tell him goodbye.

Today is my first official day back in the US of A.  My body may be here, but my heart and soul are in the deserts of Morocco. 

On Friday, Driss said to me “Follow your heart.”  He was talking about Hamid.  I wasn’t for sure if maybe the Sahara was playing tricks on me.  I didn’t know if this was real or not, but the way I described what I felt each time Hamid touched my hand, I could see Driss’ face change into a calming smile.  I asked him, “Is this love?” 

He looked right at me, while driving down the highway from Marrakech to Casablanca and said, “Yes, this is love.” 

I thought about those things after I handed my boarding pass to the ticket agent.  I kept looking back at the ticket agent’s desk as I stood in the hallway awaiting the doors to open to the plane.  I was thinking of turning around and heading straight back up the ramp and telling them to take my suitcases off the plane because I’m staying in Morocco.  I could call Driss, tell him to pick me up at the airport and take me to the desert to be with Hamid.

That’s what my heart was telling me to do.  With each step I took towards the plane’s door, I could feel the weight of Morocco tugging me at my feet, begging me to not leave.  “STAY.  DON’T LEAVE,” it kept saying to me.  I kept looking back at the doorway and thinking…I could stay forever. 

But then what about Surita?  She’s been without me for three weeks.  I need to at least go home and get her ready to come to Morocco too.  It was thinking of her that I put my head down and stopped looking back at the doorway leading back into the airport.  I boarded the plane.

I sat down and felt the pleas from Hamid to not leave.  Driss’ words of ‘follow your heart’ kept ringing in my head as “Listen To Your Heart” started playing in my head.  “Listen to your heart before you tell him goodbye.” 

I almost stood up and got off that plane.  But as I reached for the belt buckle to get up and get off that plane, I settled back in and said…no.  Wait six months and come back…just like you and Driss planned.  Wait six months.  What will happen with the heart during those six months will determine everything.  Spend those six months getting the book out to the publishers and then follow your heart back to Morocco.

You see…I fell in love with more than just a nomad.  I fell in love with Morocco and its people…and I think Morocco and its people fell in love with me too.

I look at Morocco and think about the things I could do to help the people there.  I think about how close I am to God when I am there.  I think about LOVE and how it’s everywhere.  There are only 2 things that matter in Morocco: GOD and LOVE. 

Money is unimportant.  Success is unimportant.  Fame is unimportant.

Coming back to the first world countries, I can’t help but feel like my priorities have shifted.  LOVE IS EVERYTHING. 

They say that only the poor marry for love.  But I say that a rich man is poor if he doesn’t have love.  How can you have everything but love and still be happy?  Happiness comes from love not material things.

I look at all of this technology and think…I’m okay without having the latest phone or computer.  Who cares about the latest trends in fashion?  I don’t need those things anymore.  I just need God and love.

These past few years, I have been waiting on a dream to become a reality.  I’ve been waiting a long time for that dream to become real.  But in the desert, I learned that there can be something better than the dream.  It’s called fate and destiny.  The Muslims believe wholeheartedly in fate and destiny.  When one man told me about fate and destiny, he actually cried when he talked about it. 

For some people, fate and destiny can deal a nasty hand, but it can also deal a wonderful hand.  It’s because of fate and destiny, you work hard to be in Allah’s (God’s) eye.  It’s not too different in doing good works to have good karma coming back to you. 

Coming back to the States, I can’t help but feel I’m still in the desert.  I miss it.  I’m sad to be away from it…to be away from Driss and Hamid…

Driss said to me on our last day together that it hasn’t been six months, a month, a week, a day or even a minute since I’ve been away, but he missed me already.  I couldn’t help but feel the same way.  I’m glad we got to spend our last day together having lunch and sitting out near the Hassan II Mosque by the ocean, having a cup of coffee/tea at a coffee house preparing for my next visit in six months.

Yes, you read that right…I’m going back to Morocco in six months.  I’m booking my next trip for right after the season ends.  It may happen right at the start of the playoffs, but it’s the final games that mean everything, right?  This is also my time to explore my new world post-hockey writing career.  It seems to be taking over the present world at a much faster rate than expected, but in my experience, that happens when I’m making the right decision.  In other words, my heart is leading me back to Morocco.

I feel sad today, because I feel like I belong there.  My hopes of redecorating my home and buying a new place after my return from vacation kind of became unimportant.  My mind is now thinking about that weird feeling I’ve had for the last 10 years…that I’ll end up moving to Morocco.

It’s hard to explain to someone who’s never been to Morocco why I would make the decision to move there.  The only thing is…I have to marry someone in order to move there.  It’s not a visa issue, because ex-pats are always welcome in countries around the world.  This is more of a cultural issue.

If I were to marry Hamid, the chances of being in public with my face covered is very high.  The chances that I have to be escorted by a male when I visit the markets are also very high.  I’m okay with that.

Why would I be okay with something that most women would call oppressive?  Because in the markets and medinas of Morocco, I have to have someone with me at all times.  With my face revealed, men come by and say things to me.  In Fes, the tour guide had to shew men away from me.  When you have 15 guys following asking the guide if I’m his sister, because they’d like to date me…you know that if I was alone, there would be a problem. 

I was left alone for five minutes with a businessman, he ended up kissing me twice and fondling my breast twice.  This was not acceptable by any means.  Yes, he did get in trouble for it. 

I think Driss and my tour guide were madder than I was that this guy tried to take advantage of me.  After that, I noticed that Driss didn’t want to leave me alone without a tour guide nearby that he knew.  I could see him watching every single time he had to step away from me…even if he told me to just stand next to the car.  The second he left me, someone would approach.  It happened every single time.

It’s one thing to tell a woman she’s beautiful in the marketplace, quite another when they ask me if I’m married the second Driss walks away from me. 

Driss explained to me later that the reason for all of the attention is because the men can sense something special about me.  I could be standing next to another beautiful woman, but the woman next to me wouldn’t be attracting all of the attention.  The reason why…all lies in that ‘something special about me.’

When I walk into the room, the men can all feel it.  Everyone looks up when I walk into the room.  Even Driss sensed it each time.  I couldn’t figure out why he was always shuttling me off into a room to eat my meals alone where no one could see me until that last day.  It was that ‘something special’ factor.  

Technically, if I were to marry a Muslim Arab…I would have to cover my face and be escorted in public by a man for my own safety, just based on what’s happened so far.  It’s not oppression if I’m okay with it.  In Morocco, men don’t just look at the beauty of a woman from the outside, they look at the soul.  The soul is more important than what’s on the outside.  When they meet a special soul, that one soul is like finding riches beyond comparison.  It’s finding a rare diamond amongst a bunch of pearls.

Do you know how long I’ve been looking for someone that sees me for who I really am and not just the shell of me?  I’ve had guys interested in me because of my money and what kind of life they could have with our incomes combined (usually, I make more money than he does).  Other guys like the life I have as “Michelle Kenneth” from the party invites to the success of my work.  They like that persona and what it can do for their life and career. 

They see the shell and not the soul hidden underneath.  In Morocco, the soul is all they see.  They don’t care about the shell.  The shell is not important at all.  The soul is the most important thing.

I needed someone and someplace that would see that in me.  That’s all they see in me in Morocco.  I’ve waited a very long time for that. 

Brahma Kumaris is a lot like the Muslim faith.  It’s about God and Love.  I have been concerned over the last few years that I would only find men that cared about that shell…and not what was in my soul.  I was starting to believe that marrying for love was not real.  Marrying for money was more important.  I didn’t like it one bit.  I wanted love.  I was really looking for a soulmate, and I didn’t find him in the US.  I found him (and many others) in Morocco.  It’s a place where souls intertwine with each other.

I can say that I have a very strong connection to both Hamid and Driss.  Driss is now like a brother to me.  Hamid…I just connected with in a way that leads to the kind of love that keeps you married for the rest of your life.  We were both on the same page about that.  You marry for life. 

I told Driss that I knew if I slept with Hamid, I’d never be able to see him again.  So I didn’t sleep with him because I wanted to see him again.  That means that what happened that night…it wasn’t bad, because it became a story about love.

I’m back in New York now thinking about how so much of what America believes in means nothing when you take out love and God.  I just want to be near love and near God.  I’ll take my money and plant it elsewhere…plant it within the people of Morocco.  I want to write their stories and give them opportunities for a better life.  I want to invest in them. 

I want to invest in them like I knew it was wise to invest in gold back in 2005.  I invested in it just in case the dollar became crap.  The dollar became crap and I profited by 300x in the investment.  That’s what I see in Morocco.  I see huge potential in the country…potential not even discovered yet.  I can hear the mountains whispering of its potential, mines yet to be discovered, energy sources waiting to be tapped into.  I see job creation for many.  I see water flowing in even the poorest of homes.  I see children getting an education and having a school bus pick them up and take them home every single day so they don’t have to walk an hour to and from school every day. 

I see potential in Morocco. 

Don’t be surprised if I tell you in 6 months that I’m becoming Muslim and marrying a Muslim Arab nomad.  Really…don’t be surprised at all.  It’s just where the universe has ultimately led me…and I won’t regret one single moment of that decision, because I would be listening to my heart for once in this lifetime.

Here are a few of the photos from the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca.  It is the third largest mosque in the world.