I don’t know.
Why fall feels hopeful.
Why fall feels hopeful.
Note: Thankfully I was not involved in the pictured car fire, except that I drove by it on the interstate near Las Vegas and I can’t imagine how the people who had to jump from their burning car felt, on top of everything already going on this year. Right now I’m sitting on the end…
In my neighborhood are a pair of wild, green parrots. If you go for a walk around sunset you can see them flying high overhead, chattering back and forth to each other. They have only visited my yard once, to my knowledge. Shortly after I bought the house, my sister came to help me move….
Last week I found myself rolling back and forth on the ground with a bunch of giggling asian women. I was in my kundalini yoga class at the YMCA. We were doing an exercise where we put our hands out in front of us, superman-style, while lying on our stomachs, then we turned to the right until we were on our backs, then back to center/stomach, then to the left. As I rolled back and forth on the floor with these giddy women, I thought, I live such a rich life!
I’m going to pause here because THIS is mind-blowing for me. I’m not required to constantly shift and work and adjust and strain until perfection is obtained? Really? There is space in life for a moment’s pause to sit and smile?
Food programs and thought work can strip away the bullshit reasons we give ourselves for eating and drinking the things we do. So do the food programs, do the thought work but let it bring you to consciousness. See the box, feel the box… then burn it!
As I stood in warrior II with my arms resting by my sides, I was overcome with respect and humility toward my body. MY BODY! Which is such an amazing tool for all the things I love.
Identify those ingredients that make it bliss and put them together in your current circumstance. Put your butt in the sand. Fry bacon on the beach miles away civilization. Stare into the starry sky. Give your soul what it craves.
It’s Tuesday morning. I wake up early, probably 20 minutes before little one starts chant-singing, Mommy-Mommy-Mommy. I lay in bed watching the gray dawn through my bedroom curtains. I’m thinking about my journal session the night before. There are many days when I write and it doesn’t amount to much. But sometimes, when I’m really…
There’s an unspoken rule, once you reach real adulthood (I’m not talking age 18—I mean the time in life when you can really do you) that you should only do things you are good at. That rule is silly. And it sucks. Literally it sucks all the fun out of life.