Get to Date Formula - Free!!!

5/22/14
I wrote this tongue-in-cheek post in September 2011.  In fact, this entire blog is from that time period.  If you are interested in seeing what I've been writing about recently, please visit the Wonder With Institute blog.  Love, Anna

Get to Date Formula

After a break-up, what is the socially sanctioned amount of time you're supposed to wait before you start dating again?  When can a person start dating without being assaulted by judgements and criticisms from family, friends and society?  We're all asking the question, and now Anna Allocco is giving out the answer.  Keep reading to access the Get to Date Formula absolutely free!

When asked why she's revealing this formula absolutely free, Anna said:

"I realize that our judgements and opinions about how other people should live their lives and what we think other people's judgements are of us, influence our behavior.  A recent Onion article about dating moved me to tears.  After the tears, I heard a quiet voice.  First, it whispered that if we're going to value other people's opinions, real or imagined, we should be scientific about it! Then, the voice whispered this amazing formula.  I know I'm risking a lot by putting the Get to Date Formula on-line now, without a copyright.  Wayne Dyer, Caroline Myss or even the Dalai Llama himself could get a hold of it and make millions and further their reputations.  Still, I can't keep it under cover; this needs to be shared!"

Anna Allocco's Get to Date Formula:


A couple caveats.  First, if you are one of those women who eye someone else's husband and judges his wife for being too loose with the ativan, demurely encouraging their break up as you emphasize again and again how you can save him from the vulgarities of codependency, you never get to be part of the Get to Date Formula.  That's right.  There is a never a time when you figure into the equation.

Also, if you are one of those guys who likes women (or men) until they like you back.... You too, you're out.

Obviously, anybody who is abusing someone... your Get to Date Formula is simple:  Get Your Shit Together.  Stop beating somebody else because you can't handle your own frustration. Deal with your issues and earn the referrals of FOUR well respected health professionals who will vouch for your non-violence.  Then, maybe, you can get into the Get to Date Formula.

Okay, let's get down to business....

Determine the number of years you've been together in a committed relationship.  This value is called LC, Length of Commitment. 

This number needs to be multiplied by the percentage of the relationship time where you were actually 'Into It'.  You know, mostly liking the person, finding joy in being together, learning from one another even if the learning felt like being impaled by an iron gavel.  You can't say you weren't 'Into It' just because the relationship was difficult.  Don't do that!  Lots of people have difficult relationships and are loving each other and committed.  Two reliable indicators you weren't 'Into It' are you were having sex with other people and and you were medicating yourself so you could tolerate your partner.  Those are just two of the indicators.  Be honest, and calculate your IP, the 'Into It' Percentage.  The IP is essential in determining your Waiting Factorial.

LC x IP = Waiting Factorial (WF)

The Waiting Factorial is key, folks.  You got all kinds of people out there assuming they know about the Waiting Factorial but who are, in fact, playing loose and fast with the numbers.  We've all heard the story - "Look, they were married for 15 years, no way can s/he be ready for dating, not for another 2 years at least!  She'll just be focusing on her/him.  Plus, s/he should think of others - How does s/he think the family feels?  It's awkward for the people at church.  Damn, man, consider the neighbors!"

This used to be a conversation stopper, right?  Not anymore; not with the 'Into It' Percentage.  If you weren't 'Into It' for half the time, your Waiting Factorial changes from 15 to  7.5!  Just tell your concerned cousin, your soon to be ex-sister-in-law, the well-meaning woman in line at the Hannafords, "Listen, I know what you mean.  But, I wasn't 'Into It' for half the time so I only have to wait one year before I get to date."  

Now, hold on.  If you're thinking that you have free reign because you weren't 'Into It' for half the time you gotta slow down and consider the Righteous Variables (RV),  There are two types - those that add to your Eventual Date Appeal  (EDA) and those, unfortunately, that don't (LUGGAGE).


Righteous Variables with Eventual Date Appeal (EDA)

• Add 2 for the first child
• Add 1 for each additional child
• Add 2 for first shared property
• Add 1 for each additional shared property

Righteous Variables with no EDA (LUGGAGE)

• Add 4 for participation in a dogmatic religious tradition that uses guilt and shame as a way of getting people to behave in a certain way
• Add 4 for each health issue that has not yet received your full commitment for two years running (include addictions, untreated and undiagnosed personality disorders everyone else knows you have and lack of dental care)
• Add 4 for each issue with your marriage ending that you KNOW is all your ex's fault

Take the sum of Righteous Variables with Eventual Date Appeal and subtract it from the sum of Righteous Variables, that are, in effect, LUGGAGE.

LUGGAGE - EDA = RV

Let's retrace our steps.

LC x IP = WF


LUGGAGE - EDA = RV

WF + RV = GD, when you finally Get to Date.  


If you're not happy with your Get to Date Number, for the next 24 hours you can purchase Anna Allocco's Get to Date Formula Fixer for just $19.99.  This is an advanced package that teaches you how to translate your flexibility, willingness to grow and high regard for all people on the planet into a free pass to date whom you please, when you please, and be responsible for the experience!

Back to Borg

About a month ago I had a vision of myself as a Borg* stumbling around the set of Mad Max trying to figure out what to do with myself.  In that vision, energetic cables emerged from my head and body looking for something familiar with which to connect.  Finding nothing recognizable, those cables just vibrated a searching kind of energy.  It wasn't a pretty picture, kind of pathetic actually, but it was a powerful vision for what I was going through:  loss.

Loss is a universal experience.  People die, experiences end, we move, we grow and change, relationships evolve, we get sick and heal, we can't find our favorite sweater, our pet runs away... loss is inevitable.   Trying to avoid it is ridiculous.  

My most recent experience of loss has me feeling like a Borg disconnected from the Queen - confused because I'm looking to connect with something that isn't there.  In every episode with the Borg, the same theme is revisited:  the Queen tries to convince someone (oh, like, Jean-Luc, Data, Seven of Nine) that being Borg is superior to being an individual.  Humans suffer from feelings of isolation, from aging, from confusion and moral dilemmas.  Give yourself up to me, the Queen advises, and you will never suffer again.

It's tempting.  I don't subscribe to any dogma or practice that has me give my discernment over to anyone or anything else.  That said, it's interesting to see the ways in which I do "Borg-ify".  I unconsciously rely on external sources of connection, energy and power:  relationships, certain rituals, foods, activities, habits.  There's nothing wrong with this.  Positive relationships, healthy food, and physical experiences can all provide amazing support for the human experience.  Here's the thing, if those external sources are not connected to an internal source, in the end it's a house built on sand.

I'm letting my vision of being Borg, and noticing how I Borg-ify, to remind me to consciously plug into practices that strengthen my connection to Energy, Joy, Love, Power and Interconnection that are infinitely available.



*If you don't know who the Borg are, then rent Star Trek: First Contact.  Or, look them up online.  They are a cybernetic race who exist as a hive.  Each Borg does, thinks and feels according to the direction of the Queen.  The Borg have a series of wires that must regularly plug into a cybernetic hive so that each Borg can be sustained and directed by the Queen

Iphone and the Holy Grail

Two days ago, my cell phone went into the x-ray scanner machine at Reagan International Airport, and never came out.  I know for sure it went into the grey plastic bin, because I attempted to check my email just before the security belt started moving again.  I remember feeling frustrated that gmail didn't load in time for me to see if I had any new messages before I had to give up my iphone for a total of 30 seconds as it rolled through the machine.  I also remember judging myself for feeling frustrated... I could check it in a minute, duh?  Then, I worried that the security people would think I was a freak if they saw my phone loading email messages as it came under their scrutiny.  So, a second before disappearing behind the car-wash-like plastic marking entry into the security tunnel, I hit the iphone home button so nobody would see just how lame I am.

Feelings of frustration and shame are excellent pathways of memory.

Most of us know what the ambience of the security lines at airports are like, especially less than a week after Bin Laden was killed.  As soon as your stuff rolls through the machine, you gotta hustle: get your stuff back in your possession, the plastic grey bins stacked and off the luggage tram, and slide your shoes back on your feet.  In the initial frenzy of reclaiming my luggage and getting out of the way, I didn't notice that my cell phone didn't come through.  It was only after I walked away from the mayhem that I thought, "where's my phone?"

This is not an unusual thought for me.  Along with my keys, I regularly have fleeting moments of doubt that my phone is missing.  I looked in all the familiar places, then looked in unlikely places, and looked again.

I thought, "most likely, this is just anxiety.  I am in an airport, after all, and I do get nervous when traveling.  I bet my phone is somewhere very obvious."

Not 100% sure my phone was missing, I returned to the security station because I was scheduled to board the plane 10 minutes ago, and the plane would leave in 20 minutes.  If I didn't check with them now, I'd soon be hundreds of miles away.  A wonderful woman at security did her best.  When I told her I was there with my phone less than 5 minutes ago, we shared optimistic glances, words, and then launched into the search.  To no avail.

I got on the plane out of sorts.  My phone is an iphone and along with the phone numbers of every person I talk to, it has my calendar, voice memos, and access to my email and facebook accounts.  I didn't like the idea of someone else having access to my phone nor the personal inconvenience of being iphone-less.

On the plane, Charlie was kind and reassuring, "You okay, honey?"

"Yeah, I guess."

After half an hour flying, I turned to him and said, "I'm afraid of letting go of the phone, mentally.  I think that if I do there's no way the phone will come back. I feel like acceptance is giving up.  Like, if I let go, I'm not committed to getting it back."

He listened and in his listening, I heard myself. I heard my holding on.  I heard my fear of letting go.   When I told Charlie about my phone, I heard all my holding on, all my fear of letting go:  holding on to how I think my marriage should look, holding on to people's good opinions of me, holding on to what I wanted for my life five years ago, holding on to fitting in, holding on to my 20-year-old body, holding on to moments of joy.

This is what I do when I'm in a tight spot, I hold on.

In other words, if something does not go according to plan, I somehow flood my body with energy that stimulates the "Danger!  Danger!  Danger!" signal.  When, in fact, no danger is afoot.   There is no danger.  There is no danger.

Okay, I can let go of my phone.  It may come back.  It may not.  Either way, I am fine.

A little later in the flight, I had another insight. When we first boarded, I had sent a text to my iphone, from Charlie's, that said, "If you find this phone, please call:  (my cousin's phone number, who was still in the airport).  Bless you!  Bless you!!!"

I got honest with myself; I was using spiritual manipulation.  I hoped to appeal to the person's best self - one person who would bless a person to another person who would receive a blessing.  Surely, if we're in the mood for blessing and being blessed, we're in the mood to return cell phones to security/lost and found rather than sell the cell phone for $50 or watch porn on it, uninterrupted, for a couple days, then ditch it in a trash can.

That's not cool, I thought.  I'm pretty sure blessings aren't designed to get iphones back.  Plus, my blessing was conditional - I was blessing the person that would bring my phone back, not the person that wouldn't.  I decided that, too, is not cool with me.  We all, mistakes and all, are worthy of blessings no matter our choices.  Nobody needs to earn a blessing, that's the point of blessings - they are HIGHER ORDER wishes!  So, I blessed the person who found my phone, whether or not s/he chose to send my phone back to me.  I felt much better.  I live in a good world.  We all do things others wish we wouldn't do and we are all worthy of blessing one another and receiving blessings.   What a relief!

When we landed in Boston, I used Charlie's phone to call mine.  I didn't leave a message and I didn't try calling it again.  When I left my plane on a phone in Boston flying home from Puerto Rico three years ago, I called it 10 times in a row, desperately trying to get someone to answer it.  I wasn't going for a repeat performance, I called once and would leave it at that.  They would choose to answer, and help, or not.  Acceptance.

I let go.  I created an unconditional blessing.  And, I accepted, again.

Then, wouldn't you know, someone called Charlie's phone from mine and said, "We have your phone."

It's all holy.  Every moment, every experience, any time we are conscious and willing to grow.

Super Powers: A Flashy Distraction

Inner Tapestry’s (www.innertapestry.org) next theme is “Super Consciousness.”  Although I had never heard the term before, I imagined it was a synonym for Infinite Radar, so my interest was piqued.  I wrote the following for Inner Tapestry and submitted it a week late:

“At brunch the other day, I asked my husband what Super Consciousness brings to his mind.  He’s an avid graphic novel fan and referenced how “Miracle Man,” by Alan Moore, treats the theme of Super Consciousness.  In “Miracle Man,” a scientist hijacks an average kind of guy, sedates him, and sends his consciousness into an alternate reality.  In this new reality, the man can fly, heal people, and rearrange matter; he’s Miracle Man.  The skills Miracle Man exercises when sedated, are skills we imagine possible when in a state of Super Consciousness.  When we aren’t hemmed it by habituated ways of experiencing the world, when liberated from the rational mind, anything is possible – even Super Powers!  The thing is, Miracle Man has no idea that he is kidnapped and lying drugged in a laboratory.  In this story, then, the Super Powers are revealed for what they are – the trappings of spiritual awakening, not the awakening itself.

As the plot unfolds, Miracle Man connects with an undercurrent of subconscious remembering that facilitates his awakening from sedation into his body on the lab table.  Once back in “average” reality, Miracle Man discovers that anytime he says “Kimota”, the Super Powers he had in the alternative state manifest in his “normal” reality.   The Super Powers, then, become a reflection of awakening!

Part of the human experience is the longing to awaken to who we really are, a particularized manifestation of Divine Consciousness.  Any practice we engage in - meditation, yoga, prayer, chanting, breath-work – is an expression of that longing.  When re-connected with Divine Consciousness/God/The Universe, we might levitate in meditation, hear God’s answer in prayer, harness miraculous healing powers, shape shift into our spirit animal or realize Super Powers.  We might. 

Of course, we might not.  We might become less reactive, more compassionate, or forgive more quickly.  We might listen more attentively.  Not as sexy as Super Powers, certainly, but transformative all the same.

After exploring Super Consciousness with my friends and family for several days, I did a little internet research.  Online, I learned that Super Consciousness refers to a state of elevated awareness.  I read Autobiography of a Yogi last month and I imagine that each time Yogananda went into a state of meditative bliss, he was experiencing Super Consciousness.  It’s easy to see, right?  Likewise, when I read Carlos Castaneda’s excursions with his Toltec teacher, it was evident when he was in a state of Super Consciousness.  In some traditions, Super Consciousness is flashy.  Not flashy, like bling and superficial.  But, flashy like meteors rocketing across the sky. 

In other traditions, and who comes to mind is Thich Naht Han meditating while washing dishes, or Mother Teresa caring for sick people in Calcutta, Super Consciousness is more humble.  Not humble like boring and mundane.  But, humble like crocuses breaking ground to little fanfare.  

How many of us get side tracked looking for flashy signs of Super Consciousness?  I do, sometimes.  How many of us forget to recognize the moments of Super Consciousness that were not met with applause?  Me.  Then, I remember. 

I practice a healing modality called Reconnective Healing.  In a session, people access the energy, light and information that reminds them of who they are – connected to all that is, including Super Consciousness!  It’s not uncommon for clients to wonder if a healing happened if they did not, for example, hallucinate a Pegasus with the face of their deceased grandfather leaping through their heart chakra.

It’s like the parable about the flood.  First, there is a warning on the television, warning people to move to higher ground, the water is rising.  A faithful man is offered a ride out of town by a neighbor and the man replies, “No thank you, I’m waiting for God.”  The waters begin to rise, the man moves to the second floor and another neighbor comes by in a boat, “Want a lift?” “No, thanks, God will take care of me.”  Eventually, the man is standing on his roof and a rescue helicopter throws him a rope, which he refuses.  “God will save me.”  When the faithful man reaches the pearly gates, he finds St. Peter and implores, “I’m a faithful man, why didn’t you spare me?”  St. Peter replies, “What do you mean?  I sent you a car, a boat and a helicopter.”

We wonder:  was that swirling cloud of orange dust and that cool wind on my ankles Super Consciousness/Divine Mind/God?  There must be something more.  Carolyn Myss, respected medical intuitive and teacher, addressed a similar wondering – whether the “Average Joe” can develop intuition.  In her characteristic straight shooting style, she says we all have intuition we just don’t listen to it: 

·      “Don’t eat that second cupcake” – Intuition

·      “Give your Great Aunt a call” (she dies two days later) – Intuition

·      “I probably should go home, now” – Intuition

We don’t always listen to our intuition, imagining something sexier will be communicated like the winning lottery numbers, what our boss is thinking, or that we would be wise to fly to a particular island on a specific date to meet our soul mate.  Myss says that the practical approach to developing intuition is to listen and honor the humble voice of intuition that speaks.

Super Consciousness is not a place to get to.  It is not a particular expression.  It may not be flashy.  It is a field of awareness where washing dishes, sweeping floors, and changing tires, can be powerful expressions of awakening.  As can Super Powers. “

The Dark Power of Intuition

I would love to confidently distinguish the voice of my intuition from the voice of my ego.

Seriously, understanding the difference would make my life easier.

This weekend, I met someone at church who said to me, "I just want to be around positive people.  There's so many dick-heads and assholes out there.  You know?  People who don't know shit.  I just want to be around peaceful people.  That's why I'm here.  I don't want to hang around assholes."

Then, inside fifteen minutes of conversation, this same guy told me what I considered intimate details of his life.

When my husband and I were home later that day, I told Charlie I thought this guy had some issues.
"Who doesn't?  Come on, you barely know him."
"I know, but I get this feeling about him."

As I attempted to explain to Charlie what this feeling was, by repeating the conversation the two of us had, I realized it wasn't what this man said, exactly, but the energy around him.  I made a case, to my husband, that this was my intuition, some deep knowing, that was responding to this person.

This is an important distinction.  Because if it's my ego, than I'm "just" not liking this guy because he's different than me.  This isn't particularly noble. In fact, it makes me look petty and insecure.

However, if it's my intuition, then I can claim a kind of "spiritual knowing" and lord it all over town: "No, Charlie, it's not me being threatened by someone with different boundaries and ideas than I have.  There's something not quite well about him, it's an intuitive thing."

It's a conversation stopper. Don't challenge my intuition, bro. There's no way to challenge it because it's not about science and it's not rational.

Intuition can give me carte blanche to justify any perspective I have.  Without requiring facts to back it up, I can say just about anything and chalk it up to intuitive knowing.  "Going to work today doesn't feel right," "I have a sense monogamy is not my path right now," "My intuition is telling me that spending $5,000 on that new skin revitalizer will make a positive difference in my life."

I can see why people like prefer facts over intuition.  Let's face it, how do we know someone has a good sense of their intuition, anyway?  For all we know, they don't know their intuition from a hole in the wall.  I can say it's my intuition that this guy isn't altogether well, but it also might be my complete resistance to his energy.  Seriously, for all I know he's doing the best he can, aiming for the good life, and occasionally latches on to people and tells them stories that are disproportionately long relative to the length of time he's known them.  My ego doesn't like that because it wants to circulate the room, get to know more people, not get stuck in a conversation with some guy who doesn't seem particularly consistent or stable.

So, what to do?  Do I honor that voice, that feeling something is not quite right about this guy (I don't feel threatened, by the way, so there's no issue of safety as far as I can see) or do I challenge my ego and practice acceptance?  How do I know?

One of the greatest pieces of advice I ever heard was from Carolyn Myss, renowned medical intuitive, writer and teacher.  She said, everybody is connected with intuition, we just don't listen.  The voice that tells you, "Don't eat that second cupcake, you don't need it" - Intuition.  "Why don't you give your great aunt a call?" (and she dies two days later) - Intuition.  "I keep thinking that if I start exercising more, I'll feel better" - Intuition.  How often do we listen to that voice, value it, heed it's advice?  The more we listen to it, the more it'll speak, and the easier it will be to distinguish it's sound from our ego.

It's simple, really.  Intuition isn't advanced spiritual science, it's practicing what you know to be true.

The Road to Recovery

I have the good fortune of having friends with addictions that they are responsible for.  Meaning, they are in various states of recovery.  Some of the people I admire most are active in the 12 Step program.  Over the years, I’ve developed a tremendous respect for the 12 Steps and have wondered whether our society’s addiction to natural resource consumption and consumerism would be best addressed by collective participation in the program. 

April 6, 2011 at 2:30 pm, I declared that I am in recovery.  I am in recovery from my addiction to convincing my husband to do something different about his work situation. 

It’s an awful addiction, like all addictions, because even if I get a fix, I’m never satisfied.  I’m left with craving, wanting and then getting angry that I don’t get what I want:  my husband to behave differently.   Those of you loving people with addictions, you know what it’s like.  They are their lovely selves and then someone mentions crack and they start acting all sneaky, jittery, and you wonder if they’re going to run out and pimp themselves in an abandoned building somewhere to get a fix.

It’s not pretty, what this addiction does to me. 

For instance, yesterday morning I’m charmed by how kind and loving my husband is, how handsome, interesting, smart and generous.  Then, he mentioned he watched the Colbert Report.  It’s a benign reference, right?  It’s a perfect opportunity for us to share a laugh about Stephen’s latest antics, right? Wrong.  

Television shows?!???!!  Did you work on your resume?  Did you write about the things you like to do?  Did you look at help wanted sites?  Did you make any phone calls?  Did you clean the bathroom?  Did you praise me for working and keeping the house tidy?  Did you practice martial arts? Did you do any art?  Did you do anything that might convince me that you’re in action to create paid work you enjoy?

People who know me will tell you I’m an open-minded kind of gal, non-judgmental, alternative, loving and kind.  Yes, I am, when I’m not besieged by my addiction. 

The internal tirades challenging my husband to prove to me that his day was well spent, they’re not coming from Love and they are certainly not coming from an Infinite Radar.  This thought stream is sourced in a reptilian part of my brain that is reactive, survivalist, narrow and fearful.  This part of my brain is anxious!  Will he ever work?  Will we have money to get the sealants on our daughter’s 12-year-old teeth?  Can I count on him? Can I accept his working this little for the rest of our lives?

It occurred to me, maybe from seeing so many bumper stickers, maybe from my friends in recovery, probably from the profound influence Recovery Programs have had in America, “No, I don’t know how to accept this forever.  I can only be with it one day at a time.”

I experienced so much relief from thinking about just one day, that I wondered, "Do I have an addiction?"

I'm trying on the answer yes.  

Kicking the Dog, Didactic Parenting and Deepening the Practice

Yesterday at the beach, someone kicked our dog.  My daughter, her friend and I were all there when it happened.

Jake, along with 20 other dogs, was running around off leash at the beach.  He went over to the only two dogs on the beach that were on leashes, sniffed around and tried to engage them in play.  The women who were holding the dogs on leashes didn't appear too friendly so I sent Jake elsewhere.  Oh, but a dog knows what he wants.  A minute later, he was back by those "leashed-up" dogs.

I heard one of the women yell, "There's gonna be a fuckin' dog fight!"  I was looking at the same dogs she was looking at and I didn't see this storm brewing.  What I saw were dogs on leashes jumping around, wanting to play with Jake.  But, I walked back over, this time with the leash.

As I neared, one of the women said, "Your dog doesn't fuckin' know how to play" and kicked Jake away from her dog.  Not an overly aggressive kick, but a kick nevertheless, a kick where Jake actually caught air.  Fortunately, Jack didn't cry or yelp so I knew he was fine.

"I don't know about that.  Dogs play different when they are on and off leash.  I think it's hard for dogs on leashes when other dogs aren't on leashes."

"So, fuckin' leash your dog," she told me, as I was leashing Jake.

I looked at her, I looked into her eyes.  This woman was pissed off and she thought it was about my dog but I'm telling you, that's the tip of the iceberg.  You know what that's like, being with someone who is angry?  They don't have to say a word because it's in their eyes, in their posture, and in the vibration of the energy around them.  I have no idea what's going on for this woman but her anger is huge.  I held her gaze and I said calmly, "I am."

"Yeah, it fuckin' took you a half hour."

I kept looking at her, "Alright."

(A word about the f-bomb is called for at this point.  I've got friends who drop the f-bomb regularly.  Like, "Shit, you really fucked that up, Anna."  Really, what they are saying is, "Dear, you botched that one, eh?"   

These f-bombs on the beach didn't occur like that.  No, her f-bombs landed like, "You fuckin' stupid-ass dog owner, you don't do what I'm telling you to do and I'm going to fuck you and your dog up.")

Now this was one of those perfect teaching moments for parents like me, parents who like to turn everyday life situations into moral codes for their children to live by.

My 12-year-old daughter was furious!  "Mom, she kicked Jake!"

"Yeah, but Jake's okay."

"Mom!  It doesn't matter, she kicked Jake.  I had to walk away otherwise I would have told her off."

I didn't tell her this but I admired that and it cracked me up at the same time.  This woman was easily 5'9" and 200 pounds, wearing Timberlands, jeans and a sweatshirt.  She could have kicked my ass in two seconds if I were inclined to get into fights.

"Well," I said, "I wasn't going to take her hot potato."

"What are you talking about, Mom?"

"You saw how angry she was, right?  It didn't make sense.  She's got a hot potato, all that anger, and she was seeing if she could pass it on to me.  If I wanted to take some of her anger and get angry myself.  No thanks.  No thanks.  If she wants to give me $50, I'll take that.  Not her anger."

We talked about the dog-kicking, which is how we refer to the incident on the beach, for a while: me, my daughter and her friend.  Later that night, I told my best friend and my husband who was out of town.  And in all the tellings, I was pretty proud of myself, I didn't lose my cool and I artfully modeled to my daughter how to be an exemplary human being.

I took Jake on a walk today, in the woods, and told the two guys I met who were also walking their dogs about the dog-kicking.  "You know, it was a good reminder that people have very different norms around dogs," I told them.  And, I believe that.  Some people are very strict with their dogs, and expect the rest of us to be, too.

As I walked away from the second man I shared this with, my arrogance hit me full in the face. I did not react with anger.  I did not escalate the emotional charge of the situation.  And that is good.  However, I didn't consciously give this woman any love.  I was behaving well to resist her, not to connect with her.

I'm not pretending I'm Gandhi, here.  All I know is that I feel better, I'm happier, when I look around and see people as possible friends.   This woman never had a chance with me.

In yoga, we train ourselves to never arrive, to always deepen into the experience.  If we ever think we've arrived, mastered a pose, we know we're in trouble!  Because perfection is not the goal, practice is what we're after:  Practice makes practice.  

I see the next possible practice for me is to engage a person like that as if s/he were my good friend.  I would be non-reactive, like I was, and I would respect myself, as I did.  What I will add is an awareness that were we to meet in a dark alley with a rabid dog chasing us, she could save my life.