a bit of the beginning

1 J Leavens - this is what grief looks likethis is what grief looks like: acrylic, charcoal, golddust.
artist: heartashome , 2009.

this re-post visits a time when, earlier in my practice and before my yoga teacher training, i was quite ill and wildly discontent. in that time, my practice offered me what i did not have – a ground, a moment of respite from my fears and worries, and moments of breath and relief from pain. it was also confusing and difficult. and work. it was/is a lot of work to be with myself.

now, after a few more years of intentional, committed and consistent practice, i am called to share these words again.

as a reminder. as a celebration. as witness.

move the body, spark the soul

there is a part of me that is stuck. stuck and sad and tired. this ill health is, yes i know, an opportunity. but but but  i am struggling. some days i just want to get off the busy mind train and into the wide open space of heart. and some days i just want to sit in it.  and i do.

the tracks of my mind are rough and tumbled and i see the same scenery …. i dip into the stories of loss and done-me-wrong … the trees whisper ‘forgiveness’ and ‘light’ … teachers say ‘let go’ …whatever that means … and little bolts of joy come every so often …

i know it is true that to stay disempowered and sad doesn’t serve anything or anyone and yet, the tracks seem to be getting more and more worn and harder and harder to jump off … fear, anxiety, self-hatred — such strong words but present here, now in the spiral of disease and discomfort.  so, where to go from here? today? right now?  what to do with all this fear bouncing around in my mind?

how bout some yoga?  move a little.  breathe in. breathe out.  stretch to the sky. and fold to the earth. letting the flow move through me and keeping my mind on the movement is sometimes the most grounding thing i can do.

When I move my body to the rhythm of yoga, to my breath, and to my teacher’s voice, i am sometimes able to just be right there. no where else. not on the train. not locked in my mind. not completely afraid. here, with intensity, with calm, with emotion, with feeling, with sensation.  i feel a little spark in my soul. i remember. and then i forget again. and then i remember. try to just come back with gentleness. sparking the soul. moving the body. jumping off the train.


basic goodness: wool, copper, thread, chesnut, fabric map, message in a bottle, acorn squash mold.
artist: heartashome, 2013

oh what sweet relief it is to reflect on this piece of writing and recognize – i am now able to hold my own heart with a depth of kindness and care unavailable to me at that time. over time, my practice has cultivated a compassionate resilience within that i did not dream possible, ever. in truth, i have experienced a cellular transformation from a place of self-hatred to a deep knowing of my own basic goodness. woah.

yes, i still dip onto that track and sometimes take a ride on that train. it always takes time and practice and work and breath for me to find my way through. but the moments in between are long, sweet, and filled with gratitude. i have jumped off the train and into a wider sky-heart-field. and i am so grateful.

all of this is the ground from which my offerings flow.

this is recovery.

take good care,

listen to the sea

We keep on diving into the heart of the matter.

As we move through this season, what has Autumn offered you?

 Here in this place, we still have much green and the dandelions continue to thrive. And yet, the leaves fall and there is a presence of decay, of clearing, of interiority. All is moving into the roots.

In this season, I am reminded of a few gifts from my past.

A few years ago, I was very sick. My body was in full revolt. It craved a revolution. It didn’t recognize itself. It was out of my control. I felt betrayed. I just wanted to be well. I didn’t know how. And yeah, healing is not the same as cure.

I heard this…

Listen here:
Go deep into the roots.
Get curious.
Make your way into the spaces you can explore, into what you might be able to transform.

Consider this:
What wants to die?
What is ready to simply be let go of?
What within is asking to have a sweet death so that you can breathe again?

Please make no mistake: I am not talking about suicide or physical death here.

This inquiry does take me to some scary, shadowy, and crowded places within. And I find old truths. Other people’s beliefs. Space. Practice. Tight gripping. Expectations. A broken heart. Basic goodness. Achy wounds. Rusty fences of distrust. Apathy. Love.

The usual.

A resilient, resourceful, tender, self.
Cover allll that with a blanket of kindness. Immense kindness. Loving kindness.

Move through this:
What is workable here?  What can be given gratitude and a grave? What is becoming compost?

My yoga practice is one of my places to listen deep, to notice what is arising, and to explore how to move through. So, in this season, I use these gifts:

What wants to die?
I notice a ‘going-through-the-motions’ kind of attitude.

And how does this affect my practice?
I am stiff, distracted, spacey, distrustful, tired, unbalanced.

What is workable here?
I become still. I listen. I take a wide view. I slow my practice down. I set the intention of deep devotion.
I recognize my broken heart with kindness.

I do a wall-based Yin practice with a focus on breath to regulate my nervous system. In my active practice, I alternate between steady, strong, basic postures to remind myself of my strength and flowing dancey moves to invoke my curiosity and fluidity. I take longer savasanas and naps. I write about it.

I pay attention. I take it easy.
These messages are asking me to to attend to myself, as this manner is mirrored off of the mat and into parts of my life. I take action.

I know that the roots are deep, things are clearing, and patience is my friend.

Take good care friends,

This reading is from Mark Nepo, Book of Awakening, October 26 passage.

this is a bit of a dream

Friends, I have some lovely news to share with you.

Last fall, I was invited to be part of a wonderful project and a team of awesome folks. The project is one that captured my heart and imagination. The team is so dedicated and passionate about health, wellness, and soulful work. The work is in alignment with my heart’s deepest longings.

So happy to announce the opening of  nourish yoga and wellness studio and
T-Fit Training Centre in Powell River.

Originally T-Fit yoga and fitness studio, Terri Cramb (the owner) had a vision to separate the spaces and allow each studio’s unique character and feel to emerge. And it has.

nourish is a gentle space… focused on yoga, dance, and gentle movement practices. We are held in its embrace by a long wall of windows and flowing curtains, high bright walls that reach up toward warm cedar beams. Our little reading library is part of our tea lounge, featuring local tea and local art. Our studio is spacious and inviting. The teachers are passionate, skilled, and bring a variety of traditions, perspectives, and class types.

This is truly a space of transformation. Of healing. Of community.
And I am so honoured to teach and work there.

And the Training Centre is pretty great too. Energetic, friendly instructors teaching fantastic classes like cycling and pilates.

It is pretty dreamy to work with like-minded friends and community members to dream and vision and co-create this space in our town. I am so grateful to my many teachers, students, and colleagues who share time, space, and energy with me on this path of yogic grace and love.

And here is some of the juiciness of it for me …

* This work is a way for me to more fully awaken and to become aware of some of the unskilled parts of myself. I love that and it is hard. Shining the light of awareness onto my inner workings. Sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all. But I hold myself with compassion and then things seem to ease up a little. I slip up, I fall, and I spin out.. and then I come back to the breath, this body, and our basic goodness within as my anchor.

*Wow! This work has also been a way to check in with my remission process and remain committed to my own wellness. There is always one more thing to do, one more email to send, one more facebook post to make. So, I am continually reminded to find steadiness and ease. To hold myself with kindness. To state my boundaries and limits and then stay committed to them when I can. With reverence, I offer my body and heart the rest, silence, and stillness that it so thrives upon to be well.

*My heart’s deepest longings continue to emerge. And I love the surprises that my soul and this life brings to me. I do love this work and what it brings forth in myself and others. And there is still more to uncover.

take good care,