Hi, I'm Lila.
I am a writer.
I'm an open book and a blank page. I've been a journal keeper for thirty years, a newspaper columnist for two and have always loved playing with words.
I am a dancer.
I'm a movement facilitator and an artist who moves people to feel and fully express themselves. I've danced as long as I can remember and will continue to dance as long as I'm alive.
I am a playful spirit.
I'm a passionate advocate for play, laughter and merriment. I enjoy being spontaneous and silly and do my best to not take life so seriously.
I am a creative provocateur.
I'm an idea-generator, mischief-maker and I love to stir things up. I have a ridiculous amount of art supplies, writing paper and enough pens to last me a lifetime.
A Short Story of Lila
I am possibly half-way to my own death. This fact, along with a few life-altering experiences of late, has convinced me to take an in-depth look into my own existence and what makes life meaningful. At 47, I'm just now beginning to live my life with the awareness that there's no other place I need to get to other than be in the moment I'm currently in. I have enough self-help books on the shelf to know this, but knowing hasn't necessarily helped me up to this point in my life. What helps me be present is writing, dancing, playing, creating and being still, curious, vulnerable and real.
Lila (pronounced Lee-la) in Sanskrit means 'divine play' and it's the name I chose for myself in February 2014 as a more accurate reflection of who I am and what my offerings in service to others are mostly about. I weave a lighthearted silliness with a deep sense of spirit to create sweet spaces and places for us to play together.
I love meeting kindred spirits. If you think you might be one of mine, I'd love to hear from you. Drop me a note and say hi. Let's see what we discover when we find each other!
"We all get lost once in awhile, sometimes by choice, sometimes due to forces beyond our control. When we learn what it is our soul needs to learn, the path presents itself. Sometimes we see the way out, but wander further and deeper despite ourselves; the fear, the anger, or the sadness preventing us returning. Sometimes we prefer to be lost and wandering. Sometimes it's easier. Sometimes we find our own way out. But regardless, always, we are found."