My most shocking private yoga session request yet.
I have long legs.
Very long legs.
Yoga leggings fit my legs very well. Leggings are perhaps the most comfortable piece of clothing I own — but they are also the most attention-grabbing.
Over the past 15 years of teaching, I have had many eyes stare at my legs as they demo poses. I am unphased by those stares— that is until they bore through me.
Some stares stand out.
Some eyes linger a little too long.
Perhaps you know you know the linger?
The one filled with longing and lust?
Yoga stirs up all kinds of sexual energy. And for the student with lots of repressed desires— well doing a few hip openers has the potential of turning them on — a lot.
8 clearing rituals to keep your giving tank full.
Like most other empaths and HSPs, I’ve spent my whole life caring for others.
I’ve also spent my life fighting fatigue and depletion, desperate for ways to replenish my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual energy.
I’m the oldest of four siblings and the first of 13 grandchildren. Being the oldest meant I was the go-to family and neighborhood babysitter, advice-giver, and mother hen of my friend’s circle in my early and late teens and nurturer and caretaker to everyone that crossed my path.
3 ways I serve my anxiety that have saved my fearful ass — every time.
I thank my lucky stars I was born an anxious, colicky mess.
No really, I do.
If you think I’m crazy for loving my anxiety, then stop reading.
No, I mean it. Stop.
If you’re cursing your own anxious nature with made-up profanities, because the regular, run-of-the-mill curse words are used up, then read on. I got you.
4 uncomfortably comfortable truths of highly sensitive people.
I think I became highly sensitive in my mother’s womb.
She was loud and impulsive and very uncomfortable in her own skin. She was one of those sensitive people that pretend they can handle anything. She put on a tough girl suit whenever she showed her face in public — but in those quiet moments, she was a frightened little girl hiding behind the living room chair. Being in the womb, I sensed all that — and more. As a fetus, I learned this world was an overwhelming, sometimes frightening place.
According to Dr. Elaine Aron’s research, Highly Sensitive People (HSP’s), make up 20% of the population. When you’re highly sensitive, the world is often chaotic, a jumbled maze of noise. When 80% of that world operates on a different frequency, the world suddenly becomes as loud as a death metal concert to a newborn baby. If you’re not sure if you’re highly sensitive Dr. Aron has a quick and easy online test to determine if you’re an HSP.
And why I believe in unicorns and fairies and that everything happens for a reason.
I’ve been saved by grace a million times over.
I’ve been saved by the grace of something bigger and grander than my wee human self so many times that I definitely believe in magic.
In moments of overwhelm, moments where I’ve face-palmed myself in a how the hell am I still doing this alone? kind of way, I’ve been saved by grace.
Mindfulness, meditation, yoga, and therapy master that I am, I still fall flat — often.
I think I would question myself and the meaning of life more if I didn’t have those emotional wall moments where a torrent of tears or primal screams are the only thing that save me from a nervous breakdown.
4 reasons why being solo is uber-chic.
Notice I didn’t use the word single?
There is a reason for that.
I don’t consider myself single. At all. I’m partnerless, yes, but single? No.
You could say I have a polyamorous soul when it comes to romantic affairs. I’m monogamous when it comes to a lover, but not when it comes to romantic love.
Confused? Let me explain.
When one love is enough.
It only takes one heart to love you.
Did you know that?
Yes, you who tosses and turns all night, hoping someone other than you would love you.
Did you know those endless, restless nights don’t have to continue?
I have a secret for you.
Are you willing to come close and lend me your ear? I’ll be quiet, I promise.
Do you live as if your life depends on it?
Just like you, I often wish there was a shortcut to living the good life; but alas, there’s not.
All this talk about mindfulness makes it sounds like it’s a new buzzword; a new chic meditation style that can bring us instant enlightenment.
I wish mindfulness was the easy path to inner bliss, but it isn’t.
If you’re discouraged about reading on, just hear me out — at least for another paragraph or two?
Screw a college degree. Find a kid who knows nothing but the moment and study them up.
The year that old dude (well, he was old to me) wrote that bestseller about learning all you needed to know in kindergarten, I was overstuffing my brain with college wisdom.
I rolled my eyes at Robert Fulgham’s simple truths while sacrificing many, many precious trees to fill notecard upon notecard with endless biology facts. I filled many paper cups with vending machine coffee while yawning my way through Dickens and Tolstoy. I turned a blind eye at free-spirited children’s laughter and squeals in the park I ran laps in until my legs gave out.
I was a cutter. My body was my bullseye until his death transformed me.
I’ve always been a thoughtful, cautious person. Ever since I could remember I’ve taken great care with my actions. My family used to jokingly call me the alien child because I wasn’t carefree and careless at times like everyone else in my household.
Then when puberty hit and my hormones raged, I started to be more reckless with my life. I still wonder why no one told me about hormones and the moodiness that accompanied them like a haunting old flame? I think a semblance of awareness of the changes happening to my brain and body would have saved me loads of pain and inner-struggle, and perhaps even transformed my life.
Soul Writer. Single Mama. Life ponderer. Nature Lover. Therapist. Introvert. HSP & Empath. Life is my playground and each day a blank canvas.