I asked her what she wanted in a lover, and what had worked in the past to find one? Dancing, she said. When she lived out west, she would go out dancing and amaze her friends with her ability to reliably pull in men. She had a sensual shrug in her shoulders. (She showed me over Skype and I could believe it.) Now she lives in New York and she had not been able to find the right kind of club to go dancing. The only places where people danced, she said, people were drunk and out to score or grope, and the dancing did not have the natural, uninebriated quality that she likes.

I asked where else does she feel turned-on in New York City? “Good question,” she said, and listed some possibilities, though none seemed to be the answer. We hit a blank place, familiar to single men and women. Where to find that person? I asked her to sit into herself and breathe deeply and then to think of the first words that came to mind. Anything.

She said, “Plants, stars, and pizza.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“This is your intuition!” I said. “Follow these words and see where they lead.”

Between coaching sessions my clients have homework. The most important part of coaching happens between sessions when they explore what we have talked about and then report back. Her homework would be an art-life project, following plants, stars, and pizza.

She texted me two hours later. “”Just met a guy in front of a pizza place!”
I texted back, “No way!”
“Yes, ma’am.”

I was so turned on by my client’s quick success, I tried this method myself. That afternoon I went to Trader Joe’s. When I got out of the car I took a breath, before opening to door to leave, and decided my word would be “pumpkin.” The word itself gave me a sly feeling as I shopped. I felt more friendly too.

As I finished up in the produce aisle, a man turned to me with his shopping list, and asked, “Squash?” He wanted to know if Trader Joe’s sold squash, and what on earth was it? I told him Trader Joe’s sells cubed butternut squash and pointed him to it. He asked, “What kind should I buy?” I said, “There’s only one choice, that’s the only kind they sell.” He said, “Thank you, and by the way, you are beautiful.”

I said goodbye. It was kind of intense. Hard to receive the compliment from a stranger, I suppose. What to do now? I went on to the grocery line where I spotted a box full of whole butternut and acorn squash. I left my cart to go tell him. I felt obligated, having given him misinformation! I showed him the squashes, and we chatted. This was the pickup conversation in the grocery store that I always imagined would happen as an adult. He seemed great with one exception: he had a strong alcohol breath at 2 pm on a Wednesday.

As I checked out, I felt energized. This squash guy is not for me. But how cool, I thought pumpkin and got squash! It is amazing that both I and my client could set an intention with a simple, intuitive word. What a mystery life can be when you tune in to your intuition. Life can take on a magical, unexplainable depth. Choose a word, believe in its power and see what happens.

The flip side of getting what you want, of course, is the ability to receive. My client told me, “The guy outside the pizza shop was all turned on about me. instead of going for it fully I hesitated. He asked me for my card. i gave it to him and ran.”

Next up, the challenges of receiving what you want.
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1) buy propecia onlineWe are ashamed by what we fear will separate us from others; we fear some part of us will be judged unworthy, I have always been fueled by shame in my writing–there is so much juice in our shame that helps us to connect with others when we express what we are ashamed about. My book (and the quirkyalone movement) come to mind (expressing the shame of persistent singledom) and I have always found shame to be great creative fuel for connection with others. Expressing the charge we feel about our shame can be fuel for connecting in our relationships as well.

2) buy propecia online Being willing to be vulnerable and to invest in a relationship when you are not sure of the outcome is one of the characteristics of people who feel worthy of being loved–and feel more joy in their lives.

To warm up the group, I am giving a workshop called “Beyond the Steps: The Essence of Tango.” There are still spaces to come for the afternoon and evening. Here are the details for the .

And here are the details for my workshop:
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Saturday, November 19, 3pm at the West Point Inn

This workshop/discussion is appropriate for all levels. I first discovered tango in South America and want to share the essence that I learned in Colombia and Argentina. If you are new to tango, this will be a chance to dive into what makes tango so meditative and healing. And if you are an experienced dancer, this will be a chance to explore and deepen what made you fall in love with the dance–and to experience tango in new ways.

We’ll begin at 3 sharp and go til 4:30.

After my workshop, there will be a beginner’s tango lesson at 6pm and a buffet dinner. The milonga, 9 p.m. to midnight, includes three sets of live acoustic tango music (Ville & Maho), interspersed with old tango music on 78 rpms on the old Victrola (if you have any 78s, bring them). Note: Electric or amplified music is strictly not allowed at the inn.

Please let me know if you will be able to join. . .

Come join me tonight at a , candidate for mayor in San Francisco. John is a fantastically real human being (outrageously real for a politician) and I met him 11 years ago when we were both on the communications team for another progressive mayoral candidate, Tom Ammiano. He supports my values and I support him! I’ll be reading on the question of “The San Francisco You Want to See.”

Here’s what I’m reading.

Chris Cook, the organizer tonight asked us to write on our visions for San Francisco. The question has special resonance for me now because I’m training to be a life coach. Being a life coach is all about asking people what they want. As a coach you ask clients, What do you want? many times because people are so conditioned to talk about what they don’t want. When people finally say what they want it’s a breakthrough because their minds are so accustomed to he articulation in the negative. In more woogie-boo language, the universe doesn’t respond, or manifest, things if you talk about what you don’t want. It’s logical. Ask and ye shall receive. The same goes in politics.

So the question for tonight is What San Francisco do you want to see? I lived in San Francisco for 13 years and I loved it. I formed friendships with many creative, free-thinking people who supported me to do outlandish things like start the quirkyalone movement and publish a magazine based on people’s to-do lists. San Francisco made me who I am in many ways–the kind of person who believes I can make a living creatively collaborating with others. And for my life to be one improvised, entrepreneurial adventure after the next.

After thirteen years, I moved to Oakland. I spent a year and a half traveling in South America, and I knew, when I came back to the Bay Area, that if I was going to live here, I wanted to live in a place where people look each other in the eye. Where there’s play in everyday life, and it’s not all mediated by Facebook and smartphones. The tech-drenched nature of San Francisco alienated me. Everyone on the bus stared into their phones and so did I. I live in Lake Merritt now where the races actually mix above a cafe where strangers talk to each other more than they type. So the first thing I want, for San Francisco, is to be more like my experience of Lake Merritt: that sense of people mixing in public space. For people to warmly greet each other and to cross boundaries of race and class.

I asked people what they want for San Francisco and most people get stumped. My friend Jenny told me she wants Halloween back in the Castro.

Here’s what I want for San Francisco. My list includes:

–Brilliant public schools in every neighborhood and the best-paid teachers in the country

–A bike-sharing system like they have in Paris and Lyon, France

–BART trains that run until 3 am

–The ability to take bikes on BART during rush hour

–WPA-style grants for artists, writers, magazine publishers, and poets. 10,000 units of affordable housing for artists, writers, teachers, social workers, others who contribute to the social good. Taller buildings in out of the way neighborhoods are OK by me.

–Public health clinics in every neighborhood with preventative care and screenings for celiac disease, diabetes, and other undiagnosed illnesses. I got diagnosed with celiac, an autoimmune condition and the only cure is a strict gluten-free diet. The awareness of celiac disease in the US is extremely low compared to Europe, and millions of Americans are suffering from chronic fatigue, pain, and increased mortality from cancer and other diseases because they don’t know they are celiac. One in 133 Americans are celiac–that’s three million people–but 90% are undiagnosed. I want San Francisco to take the lead by screening all children and adults for celiac through Healthy San Francisco and mandating screening at schools and in health plans.

–Elevators that work at San Francisco county buildings. My sister worked as a social worker at Child Protective Services for five years on the seventh floor. She and her coworkers regularly got trapped in the elevators and the county couldn’t bother to fix them. I want to see a CPS with elevators that work.

–And finally–for the whimsical–unicorns. I want San Francisco to stay on the cutting edge of whimsy.

As part of this new adventure, I am sponsoring a contest. Three lucky souls who want to grow and support others in their growth will get to play.

CONTEST RULES

What you win: A month of play and coaching. I will choose three people. You will win three individual coaching sessions with me, and we’ll meet as a group in person to co-create a game that helps each person get what he or she wants. This is a commitment of time and energy. You need to be ready to jumpstart your own growth and to supporting others along the way.

Who can enter: Anyone who wants to get unstuck and go for what he or she wants. That could be: a new business, writing, being bold in everyday life, getting over your tired stories, telling people what you want. What you want is as unique as you. If you are fuzzy about what you want, that’s OK. Coaching helps you get clear about what you want.

Who am I?: My name is Sasha Cagen. I’m a turn-on coach. It’s all about turning on to what makes you feel most alive, in work, life, and love. I’m highly intuitive and help people tune into what’s authentically true for them. I stand shoulder to shoulder with you as you step over the clutter that’s holding you back. My training is led by the talented coach trainers Jeff Jacobson and Mai Vu, who have both served on the faculty of , the largest coach training org in the country.

In addition to being a coach, I’m a writer. I’m the author of (HarperCollins) and (Simon & Schuster). I started the for people who prefer to be single rather than settle, published a nationally award-winning magazine To-Do List, co-founded a street fashion social network and sold it to Glam Media, and traveled South America alone for sixteen months (read more at ). I love travel, tango, and coaching others tune into what makes them feel most alive.

To learn more about me and my coaching, visit sashacagen.com.

How to enter:
1) Tell me what you want in your life and why you I should choose you.
2) Bonus points for being creative. Make a video and send me a link, send me a series of tweets (@sashacagen #iflifeisagame) or . . .
3) Send communication to sashacagen AT gmail.com.

Entries are due by end of day Monday, October 17.

I’ll announce the winners the following week and we’ll start coaching and creating our game thereafter.

My purge began almost two years ago when I decided to go on a walkabout (travel adventure with no plan) for four months in Brazil. Four months turned into over a year of traveling (and hanging out getting to know people and places) in Brazil, Colombia, and Argentina. That’s a longer story that I am writing in memoir form.

Before I leapt into travel mode I had been living in a San Francisco apartment for four years with two roommates. Four years was the longest I stayed in any one apartment since I left for college at 17. Four years equals a lot of stuff! Moving always caused me to sink into temporary holes of depression. The process always seemed more emotional than seemed warranted. I was forced to stare at things I acquired in the heat of the moment and then see them with fresh eyes. What is this junk and why do I have to pack it up with me? This cheap costume wig that is so mangled I can’t even comb it, this unflattering schwag t-shirt? I could think of one thing with value: a juicer that could easily juice a beet. If my stuff was a reflection of life, my life seemed to be filled with junk.

Thus began the purge that continues to this day.

I began in Brazil with a bloated bag of dresses and skirts and quickly realized the weight was too much. I spent $80 to send clothes back. (One advice for anyone embarking on long-term travel is to not worry about clothing. Shoes are a different story, but you will get the appropriate clothing anywhere you go and understand better what you actually need.) (I am going to put together an e-book of advice for long-term travelers.)

Now that I am back in the States–and considering future adventures abroad–I want to remain buoyant and light. I think wistfully back to the days when there was so little laundry to do. I bundled up the bag more frequently but it wasn’t so laborious and heavy.

My stuff was stored in a storage unit for over a year. Like most people, I had no desire to deal with it. If I had survived without those boxes for 16 months, what did I need them for? But I was paying a ghastly monthly fee. I didn’t want to be one of those Americans who pays to store junk in storage for the rest of my life. The storage industry now .

Since those cardboard boxes came back into my life, I have been purging. It is funny how I still feel a sense of loss when I pick up the pair of tango heels that are unstable–no matter how many times I brought them to a cobbler–and then put them on a bag on the street. It’s a loss, and then a joy–I’m free of that problem now! I get a buzz out of giving away CDs, books, and dishes. I work on wearing every piece of clothing in my wardrobe, and if I don’t wear it within three months, it goes out on the street to someone who will love it more. I hope these objects will be received with joy by someone else.

Even better, ever since I came back from my travels, shopping is no longer therapy. I no longer acquire clothes as a hobby. That’s pretty amazing since I spent 30% of my free time in junior high school and high school in malls! I take this as a sign that I have more fulfillment in my life–I don’t need to seek fulfillment in shopping because there are other things I want to spend money on, like travel and tango. Over the last six months, I spent $100 on new clothes for practicing or dancing tango.

Here’s a that makes this accomplishment feel bigger: “By 2005, according to the Boston College sociologist Juliet B. Schor, the average [American] consumer purchased one new piece of clothing every five and a half days.”

Steadily getting rid of possessions brings me a lightness and joy that is hard to name. It is easier to create order when I am surrounded by fewer objects to organize. A simple home reflects a calm mind.

My desire for simplicity doesn’t stop with possessions. I also want less in my information diet. I want to be informed. I do not want the debt ceiling limit to result in seniors not being able to get health care, for example. But there are limits to how much information I can take in. I was a perpetual NPR listener in my previous life, and now I am more likely to intersperse silence and college radio (music). The news can be a barrage and my brain can’t hold on to all the threads. The voices become noise after a while and noise is clutter.

I lived without an iPhone while I was in South America and it was a joy to be free of the distraction.

My goal is to be simple in all ways. How can we be sustainably simple in this “crazy” world in the United States? I am always struck how people call their days “crazy” in the U.S., and I don’t want “crazy” days whether I am living here or abroad. I want simple, love-fueled days. I want to keep the light, well-edited minimalism of travel with me now always.

My friend Laura informed me that South Korea has a National Singles Day too on June 14. Single people get together on “” to eat noodles with black bean sauce.

A few weeks ago my wonderful peer coach from the program was coaching me on the phone. We were talking about my life (my career; relationships; whether I will have a child). I broke down in tears and said something to the effect of, “I can’t believe I don’t have it all figured out yet.” I have published books and a magazine, started a company, traveled extensively, and despite all that, I sometimes feel like I am at the beginning again with a blank slate. There is so much uncertainty in my life, so many paths that can be taken (or not taken). I get the feeling that from the outside I look strong and sure, but I often feel small and confused. Like a child. Breaking down in tears to my peer coach felt potent and real.

Later that weekend I snuggled on the couch rereading an old favorite book: buy propecia online(Harper Collins, 1992). I stumbled on a perfect passage to clarify why admitting that I don’t have it figured out–that I feel like a child–actually felt very pressure-relieving.

Sometimes you hear adults in their thirties and forties say lightheartedly, “I still don’t know what I’m going to be when I grow up.” No matter how lightly this common sentiment is stated, the feeling is full of inferiority. What’s wrong with me? I should be a success by now. I should be making plent of money. I should be settled. But in spite of these wishes, the sense of the child who is not yet ready for success and settling is strong. This recognition can be a soulful moment. It bears a melancholic tone that is a signal of soul reflecting on its fate and wondering about its future. It is a potential opening to imagination, and to some extent this is the power of the child. The child’s smallness and inadequacy is the “open sesame” to a future and to the unfolding of possibility.

What a beautiful passage. It so aptly describes the fertile moment of acknowledgment that we don’t have it all figured out. And there is a feeling of power after the truth is shared, an unblocking of the future path. Later he writes of the “beginner’s mind” of a child, “we have to find ways to unlearn those things that screen us from the perception of profound truth. We have to achieve the child’s unknowing because we have been made so smart.”

There are child qualities that never grow up, that we never grow out of. Because the presence of the soul child with its ignorance and clumsiness generates such discomfort, it is tempting to deny the child or try to cover it up or force it to disappear. But such forms of repression only make the child more difficult to deal with. The more we try to cover up our ignorance, the more it is displayed. The more we try to act cool and suave, the more obvious our inexperience. The more adult we try to be, the more childishness we betray.

For those of us who seek to reinvent ourselves through career change and any kind of life change–opening a new business, moving to a new country, even becoming a parent–it’s critical we accept our child parts in the transition. There is no faking it when you are starting from scratch once again. That is the beautiful open sesame to the future.

Oliver is 38 and has spent the last few years caring for his father who announced he was gay after Oliver’s mother died. The movie flashes back to Oliver’s childhood throughout the film. Oliver never believed his parents were really in love, and consequently never really fully believed in love for himself.

You could say it’s a fear-of-commitment story, but that would be too simple a shorthand. Oliver is afraid of slipping into a passionless domesticity driven by the model that he saw growing up. The mother figure is tragic: so bursting with life and quirkyness, but she was never going to get the passion she wanted from her husband (and she knew he was gay). I loved the scene where Ewan and his new love recognize each other as “the same”–both leavers. This is no romantic comedy with an easy resolution. We get to see Oliver and Anna in love, and at the same time, riding out hard moments, battling out their sense that “this is not the way I was supposed to feel.” And if it’s not the way it was “supposed to feel” in the moment, does that mean end it? Deliciously real. See it!