Hi Everyone:

The ebb and flow of life has made itself visible again. Just the other day I wrote about how we welcomed two fresh new faces into this world in Daron and Michelle Rahlves’ baby twins. Today we remember a friend who has been with us for longer than I can remember.

Paul Robbins, esteemed ski and travel journalist, passed on in his Vermont home this past Saturday while doing what he loved: writing.

It’s strange for me to think of a world in which he isn’t around. After all, he had been writing for the US Ski Team and about skiing long before I was even born.

“Hey Julia, Paul has a few questions to ask you for a piece he’s writing. Can you swing it?” they’d ask me.

No doubt. I’d always make time to talk to Paul, because he was always such a delight. He was warm, friendly and always funny. I’d always hang up the phone feeling better than before.

In some mysterious way though, even though he won’t be calling anymore, I feel this sense of ease and joy that now Paul is not bound to one place anymore, in one spot in a specific time. Now, much like Daron and Michelle’s twins were “out there” in the field of energy before they were focused into their present form, Paul has returned to that same everywhere and always.

I need to think about a book I recently read by Wayne Dyer called “The Power of Intention” and I think about the part where he asks: “where does ‘you’ begin and where does ‘you’ end? The air you breath for instance, when is it yours and when is it not yours?” Now the breath is in me and now the breath is outside of me. When does it become ‘not me?’ When it passes over the trachea? Out of the mouth? When you breathe it in?

It’s the same air.

And if you think about the fact that your entire body completely regenerates, that every cell is replaced with a new one so that after time your body is made up of totally different cells entirely, wow, well where does ‘me’ end and where does ‘me’ begin? What is ‘me’? What is ‘Paul’?

The truth to me is, Paul is with us now more than ever before. The air he breathed lives on in all the people he’s touched: family, friends, colleagues, the skiers he’s interviewed and the reader’s he’s informed and entertained. Indeed, he lives on in us and everywhere. The air he breathed is the air we breathe.

In a very magical (and understandably ‘weird’ way) I say, “hello Paul, nice to have you with us. You’ll be with me on every interview call I do.”

I was wondering whether we could all do something together. Just like we did with Resi when she got injured, will you send your collective “love and healing energy” to Paul’s family and friends? Close your eyes for just a moment and meditate on a personal prayer to them. They will feel it.

With Love,

Julia