What’s the moral of your story?

Someday, I’d like to tell you more about my friend Stephen. Stephen was addicted to heroin for eleven years, from the age of 19 to 29. In his former life, he stole from, lied to, and abandoned the people he loved. I didn’t know him then, but I know him now. My first thought when I met him, before we ever spoke, was that his eyes looked like those of a newborn baby, just full of wonder. There’s a certain gentle, open-heartedness about him that can’t be faked. Stephen is still a brave and independent person like he was in his youth, but his new life leads him toward adventures that inspire rather than ones that devastate. He’s going back to school to be a counselor, and I know without a doubt he will help many people over the course of his lifetime.

How did that transformation happen? Well, first I also want to tell you about my friend Creta, a former firefighter who has become a dear friend in Colorado. For a long time, Creta suffered from health issues related to her thyroid. After putting it off for years while the condition worsened, she went to the hospital for surgery two weeks ago. When the prepartory lab tests were run, the blood work suddenly came back normal. She was sent home because she didn’t need the surgery anymore. 

These are both absolutely beautiful people with fascinating stories to tell. The specifics are different, and I won’t go into them here, but I can tell you they have both experienced great healing of the heart. I knew I wanted to share their stories with you all, but I wasn’t sure how to talk about them without writing a whole dissertation on self-healing. So I told my eight-year-old daughter these details about our friends, and asked her. “What do you make of this? What’s the moral of these stories?”

“Find your connection,” she said.

She is so right. That is what they both did, and they are not the only ones either. Look around you, and you may start to notice. The darkness in our world today is bringing out some brilliant light. The miracles are here if we are ready to listen to and see them. It doesn’t matter what name you give to what you are connected to or if you think you are connected to something or not. What matters is the feeling of connection. 

Knowing love in your heart and believing in it more than you believe in the permanence of your suffering.

It’s very hard to believe in love when you’ve had your heart shattered. It’s hard to believe in connection when it feels like your life is falling to pieces. But I’m talking about a different kind of love and connection, more even-keeled than the human form. It is fundamental to radical transformation and healing. This dialed-in, equanimous way of being doesn’t come easily to most of us, but it can be learned if the intention is there. One thing you can do to feel more connected right now is to start looking for miracles. Notice the big ones, like the healing Stephen and Creta experienced, and the small ones, like the perfect spiderweb I saw on my window pane this morning. If you are on the lookout for miracles, you’ll find them everywhere. Maybe you’ll take a little extra time to listen to a stranger, and you’ll be that miracle yourself.

What’s the moral of your story, dear one? What do you want it to be? That story is being written right now, and I bet it deserves a good read. Meanwhile, I’ll be wishing you the felt knowledge that you are not alone here. Whether or not you’re aware of it right now, you are very loved.

Julia Aziz


PS—Inspiration is beautiful, but the real work is an investment of energy towards the shift you are ready, or want to be ready, to make. If you’re struggling with anxiety, grief, or big life transitions, and you feel called to dive deeper into self-healing and empowerment work together, please reach out. Or just stay a little more connected, and sign up for my mailing list.

Honoring and Celebrating Change through Ceremony

I went to bed at 2am last Saturday after my son’s nontraditional bar mitzvah slash coming-of-age ceremony positively vibrating with love and gratitude for all of it. Family, friends, teachers, and mentors shared their blessings and wisdom with Kaleb. It was an infusion of good vibes and appreciation! What a gift for any human being in the middle of 7th grade. 

Aside from being a proud mama, I feel re-inspired as a ceremonialist. I’ve been officiating weddings, funerals, and baby/mother blessings ever since I graduated from an interfaith seminary program in 2003. But this was my first personalized coming-of-age for one of my kids. Designing and facilitating something new requires a real trust in the creative process, whether it’s for a client or my own family. People that choose personalized ceremonies often feel like they don’t fit within the structures of organized religion, yet they long for the connection and meaning that community gathered together in reverence can bring. So when I work with a new client, I start off by asking questions. I need to know who the people are, what matters to them, and why they want to have this particular ritual. We have to root the experience in what is most meaningful and true to the people involved. So, for instance, if you come from a culture or tradition that you would like to reconnect with, I use that as a foundational piece. If you feel disconnected from the traditions of your ancestors or you’ve experienced religious trauma, I want to know where you feel the most alive and connected. Is it when you’re lying on the grass, staring up at the sky? Is it a martial arts or yoga practice? Maybe it’s hanging out with a small group of loved ones around a fire. It’s different for everyone, and that’s what makes personalized ceremonies so unique. 

Once I understand how to root the ceremony, we can branch out in ways that reflect the people involved. I follow tradition in structure or just in essence when it serves the heart-centered purpose of the ceremony. In some ways, the process is a lot like making art or writing. We start with a free flow of ideas and let them marinate for a while. In time, with patience and creative collaboration, what looks like disparate parts solidifies into form. Something brand new emerges that has never been seen before and yet is completely familiar, for it is your own.

Several friends this weekend told me they want to do something similar but don’t know where to start. The first thing I say is to give the ceremony creation some priority and a little space in your life. This isn’t just event planning (which takes time too!). The process is likely to stir up deep feelings, memories, and some questions. Ceremony is a marking of an important change you or someone you love is going through. It’s a chance to get real with yourself and with the people in your life. Rites of passage have been a part of every human culture throughout the ages. We all come from this history. We can remember and relearn our roots, and we can grow new branches reaching for the light. As humans here on earth, we have an open invitation for meaning and purpose. May we all grow strong and more beautiful in its unfolding!

All my love,

Julia Aziz

PS–If you’re considering some kind of ceremony to mark a transition in your life, and you’d like support in its development/facilitation, check out the details here to get in touch: Ceremonial Work.

PPS–If you’d just like a taste of personal ceremony, here’s a simple ritual you can use to close your work day each day.

Quiet, cared for, and free

I’m on my way out for a solo retreat this weekend. I’ve been going to the same place every year since I turned 40. It’s a perfect setting because there are hardly any other guests around, and I get to enjoy delicious homemade meals without having to cook.

When I was younger and lived alone with much more time to myself, I still went on my own retreats. Back then, I would instill the self-discipline of fasting, meditation, prayer, yoga, and so on. This stage in my life is different though, with three kids, teaching, and a private practice. More than spiritual discipline, my soul longs for a respite from routine, responsibility, and technology. My solo weekend is about unwinding and re-wilding now, following natural impulses to do whatever I feel like doing in the moment. Usually, that means I spend a lot of time sleeping. Last year, I counted and actually napped five times in a day, while still going to bed early. I also wander the hills, read a lot, and write in my journal on and off all day. Then take another nap.

Have you noticed how restorative it feels to turn off devices, schedule nothing, see no one, and go nowhere? If you haven’t had a day like this in a while, I highly recommend it. These open-ended solo retreats with all my needs taken care of and no striving for anything have been just as profoundly healing as the time I’ve spent in spiritual intensives with masterful teachers. Living in a city in this busy middle phase of life, what brings me back to who I really am is… a whole lot of nothing at all. 

Solitude isn’t all blissful refuge though. All kinds of feelings arise in spaces without distraction. For me, the quiet usually brings deep emotional release and a reckoning with any uncomfortable truths that currently need facing. Next weekend, I’ll be hosting sixty friends and family for my son’s coming of age ceremony, so some centering beforehand seems like good timing.

Silence, nature, nourishment, freedom. It’s a simple recipe, but it takes some prioritizing and commitment to gather the ingredients. It requires turning away from a culture that says, “Keep going! There’s more to do! People need you!” All that is never going to stop. So I have to. 

I know this kind of quiet retreat isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I hope you too gift yourself lavishly with whatever fills you up and speaks to your soul. The more people taking care of themselves on this planet, the better off we’ll all be when we get back together! 

Hope you have a lovely weekend wherever you are,

Julia Aziz

PS- No time to get away? Here’s a few simple practices to replenish and love yourself anywhere, anytime.

When things get real

PhD’s are doing research on vulnerability. Does that not strike anyone as sort of strange? Have we all been hiding so well that we need scientific studies to prove it’s better to be real? I’m not suggesting everyone walk around talking about their troubles all the time. It’s nice to ask if people are available before we unload. But being vulnerable is also about letting go of pretenses in general, not participating when something doesn’t feel right, and asking honest questions. 

Part of what I loved so much about hospice work was there was no room for posturing. No one can pretend to have all the answers about death. People are real at the end, both the ones leaving and the ones staying behind. Masks come off, and anything that has been avoided rises to the surface, urgently asking for resolution. 

Sometimes big life changes are what shake us into authenticity. The breakup of a significant relationship, quitting an addiction, watching a loved one die, getting a scary diagnosis, or even leaving a job can set the soul into a dark night. These little deaths are opportunities to be real with the most important person in your life: yourself. The darkness is a ripe place for inquiries of the heart and soul.

What do you truly care about? 

What do you need to let go of? 

If you were looking back from your final days, what story would your life tell? 

What story do you want it to tell? 

If you’re at a crossroads right now, and it’s throwing almost everything into question for you, it may be a good time to be asking those questions. Gently, though. If you push a butterfly out of its cocoon too early, it will die. Sometimes we need the darkness for incubation. We may not get answers to our deepest questions right away, but we can be real about where we’re starting from. It’s a great place to be reborn.

Wishing us all the courage to be just who we are, and plenty of love and forgiveness in the process,

Julia Aziz

PS–If you’re looking for ways to face the hard questions and be with the discomfort of change, some of the tools I work with in session are things you can practice on your own too. Some clients come for weekly psychotherapy and others come on and off as needed. It depends on the level of support you’re needing, and that’s totally up to you. Find all the details here. And if you’re not feeling called to counseling at this time, but you’d like a little more inspiration to get real with yourself, sign up for my mailing list here.

What is a Coming of Age Ceremony?

Some of you have asked me about the coming of age ceremony/nontraditional bar mitzvah I’m working on for my almost 13-year-old son Kaleb. There were a couple different reasons to create this event. As a ceremonialist, I wanted to continue the tradition common to many different cultures, including my own Jewish one, of marking the passage from childhood to adolescence. I knew our process would incorporate a more homegrown choose-your-own-adventure spirituality, as my husband and I come from different cultural and religious backgrounds. So I set out to create a rite of passage that would remind our son of his roots, while also giving him the freedom to follow his own compass and know his own heart. 

Then the social pressure cooker of middle school started happening in earnest. I won’t go into details because I want to protect his privacy. But the idea of gathering family, friends, teachers, and mentors that have truly appreciated Kaleb started to feel essential. I want him to remember there are people out there who see him and who have his back, especially on the darker days. As much as possible, I want him to understand that this next phase of life really is a transitional bridge. No one can give a kid this kind of context. When we are young, we can’t imagine the current dramas ever passing. But ceremony creates a context, as well as a deep memory of community acceptance. 

To prepare for the coming of age, I’ve included some elements of the traditions my husband and I each come from as well as some new ideas. There are aspects of physical preparation, spiritual study, self-reflection, creative play, and community service. The ceremony itself will be a coming together in community to acknowledge and support one of our young people as he develops into the man he will someday be. So far, the process has been a fun experiment, a homeschooling in life preparation. 

Here’s one of the study projects Kaleb has been working on. I pulled out some of our best wisdom books and asked him to pick five to read and reflect on. As you may imagine, he’s been choosing the thinner ones. So far, he seems to have liked The Alchemist best, judging by the fact that he read it in one evening. Definitely one of my top ten favorites too. 

Kaleb is our first child, so he’s getting the trial run in our family. I’m looking forward to spending a weekend with relatives we rarely see and friends who have taken the time to know our quiet, earnest boy over the years. It’s a lot of attention, for sure. But hopefully the good kind, the kind that stays with you through the lonelier days and reminds you where you come from. 

Some of the books he’s been choosing from

Maybe you’re going through something important in your life, whether it be a marriage, a divorce, a death, a birth, or parenting a child transitioning into another stage. In addition to individual counseling and group work, both of which can be super helpful during big changes, I work with people in creating personalized, meaningful events that reflect who you are and what you value. Changes can be rough, but they are also ripe for growth. I hope you give yourself permission to receive all the support that’s available to you. And may that be true for all the children as well!

With care,

Julia Aziz

Sign up for my mailing list and let’s keep in touch!

Trapped in the Head and the Doorway to Freedom

When I was 21, I discovered Buddhism and vipassana meditation. I was often anxious and worried, so it wasn’t about seeking enlightenment; it was about finding a way to actually enjoy being a person. In learning how to compassionately witness my over-stimulated nervous system, I didn’t change who I was as much as I became much better at being with myself no matter what was going on inside. 

In the fall of 2000, I traveled to Thailand and Nepal because I wanted to dive deeper into meditation practice closer to its source. I spent nine days of my first ten day silent retreat in complete resistance. I wanted to get out of there so badly. I loved the silence. I could have happily lived in silent community for months. But everything hurt. My body loves to move, and sitting still in the half-lotus position was killing me. My mind was also obsessing like crazy. All I could think about was (1) my pain (2) how I could possibly escape early and (3) why coming here was my worst idea ever. These thoughts led, of course, to many other miserable thoughts of past mistakes and future worries. I continued trapped in this mental prison for nine days without distractions, as we alternated sitting and very slowly walking from 4am to 10pm every day. 

On the ninth day, the teachers announced that we would only be having one meal instead of our usual two. It would be a 24-hour fast, and it would give us more time for sitting. Pushed to the limit, I finally landed at the bottom of all that fierce resistance. What I discovered there was absolute, pure joy. I had fought a losing battle through every dark feeling there was to feel, and when I finally gave up the fight, all that was left was bliss. All the more so because nothing on the outside had actually changed. I still had to sit in this uncomfortable position for 18 hours on and off all day. But I was happy anyway. This was freedom.

Anxiety, worry, and overwhelm can be a doorway, as can all the things we struggle with. When we’re stressed out enough, we are often more open to trying new things. Meditation is, of course, only one of many tools that help. I am profoundly grateful to have been exposed to so many wonderful teachers and practices over the years. I love to share them because I know they’ve helped me. 

These times are full of struggle, and that is why they are also ripe for awakening. Have you experienced your own suffering as a doorway to freedom? What’s helped you? I don’t believe everyone needs to learn how to sit still for hours. That’s not the point. The point is to be willing to experience everything that this human life has to offer. To stay with it all, as it comes. To surrender, one little moment at a time.

With you in the journey of human-hood,

Julia Aziz

PS — Here’s a few simple tools to help along the way.

To Be Whole

Lately, I have been creating some curriculum for my son’s coming of age ceremony that we’ll be hosting in a few months. It has me thinking about what’s important for a young person to consider as they move into the crucible of adolescence. 

One of the first assignments I gave my son is an exercise developed by Maria Nemeth to help clarify your own personal Standards of Integrity. The idea being that what integrity means to me may be different than what it is for you. Rather than following institutionalized morals that tell people how they should behave, it’s about looking at what you personally value and creating your own measurement of wholeness and success.

The exercise involves coming up with names of people you admire and distilling down the qualities they represent for you. I went through this process a couple years ago and made the little integrity card pictured below to keep in my purse. I look at the card every now and then, when I need to. It encourages me to live up to what I believe in, and it reminds me that I get to decide what those things are.

I love the word integrity. It has been a major theme for me this year. I have taken a hard look at the places where I needed to get into better alignment with the truth, and it has required me to let go of quite a few things. Jobs, schooling, relationships, personal patterns, etc. If I was saying one thing and doing another, or receiving clear intuition and ignoring it, I couldn’t hide anymore. While the process has been rocky and emotional, it has made me stronger and more trusting in the long run.

This is what integrity comes down to, for me. If I am being kind, brave, and genuine, I am doing alright. I do my best. I can’t expect perfection; in fact, perfectionism has been one of the first things to go. I care more about forgiveness than getting it right the first time.

I’m asking my son these questions now too. What is important to you? Who do you want to be in this crazy, beautiful, painful, glorious life you’ve been given? You’re welcome to get in on this conversation too.

With care,

Julia Aziz

Sign up for my mailing list to receive inquiries like this in your inbox.