So I just read on mindbodygreen that a disease doesn’t usually just pop up like a Jehovah’s Witness on your doorstep some random Saturday morning.

Apparently it takes months or even years of dysfunction for it to build and present itself.

It’s so cray looking back,

I’ve been having vertigo attacks since I was twelve. Was it that sip of mam’as red wine that shocked my brain into a frenzied blury spinning furry?

Was it destiny?

Were all the increasing vertigo attacks and days turning into weeks of being dizzy leading me to this?

To this roller coaster sailing on a sea boat swaying life?

I’m getting emotional just thinking about it

If I had known, would I have lived my life different?

Or is this a push in the right direction,

to take every day, holding tight, grasping for what I have right now

in this moment.

Most times when I have to face my balance on the yoga mat,

it’s more real to me then any other time besides when I’m driving.

I get emotional and usually end up weeping silently, not sad

Maybe, a little

Just remembering and grieving for the old me lost.

Shedding my skin and coming into the new Queen.

Years it took, to get here

and (maybe) years to go.

nothing is permanent.



Letter to Christopher


Well, I guess I can’t call you that anymore (that hurts)


I love you. The most important thing for you to know: Is that I love you.

In fact, I have never loved you more than the moment we decided to part our ways.

The moment I could finally feel myself releasing the vice like grip I had on your being

and allowing myself to slowly unravel and peel myself away from you-to let go.

To free fall away from you.

Because freely falling away from you was the single most kind and compassionate thing

I could do for you.

To allow you to grow, to learn, to evolve, to love

by yourself or with someone else-

that was love. Is love. Is the most compassionate and loving thing I can do for you.

I was

grasping onto you so tightly for so many selfish reasons-

including love.

You comforted me, loved me, fucked me, held me, kept me warm at night,

we had fun together.

You are,…were…a companion to me.

And losing that-would be too hard.

But love, sometimes, is hard.

But love is never selfish, never greedy.

Love is not self-seeking.

Love is not self-seeking.

How can I confess my love to you in honesty,

but be holding onto you for so many selfish reasons Chris.?

I can’t.

And so, I’m tying our love up in a red balloon-

Blowing it full of all our memories and love making,

gentle story telling, our laughter and plans of future,

(while keeping it hidden here too)

and letting it sail, to find the wind, to follow

it’s own path.

To travel, to sail, to follow

to find,



is all I have for you,

all I want for you,

All I desire.

I pray

you find it again.

And I will too.






Yoga teacher Training Month 2

Why I decided to do yoga teacher training this year 2018 

I decided to do something good for myself.

I decided to treat myself to a year of self discovery, growth, flexibility and hopefully spiritual awakening.

I did it because I always said I would.

I did it because I kept kept kept saying I would in the future. Next year, five years from now. When I had more money. When I got better. When I retired. When I died?

Yoga teacher training is something that had always stuck with me and kind of sparked a mini mini little spark in my head. Something I half considered.

I actually have been working my way through a pretty discombobulating and intense year of chronic vertigo and dizziness that had left me pretty sedentary and even pretty mentally foggy and depressed.

There were days when it was impossible to even walk in a straight line.

I am not playing, I could not even do a mountain pose without swaying miserably and feeling nauseous, some days. (Mountain pose is literally just standing up straight with your feet touching, or slightly apart, and hands down by your side btw)…:/


Even throughout this, I would still find myself getting my mat out and practicing my half drunk tipsy turvy topsy yoga. I did what I could, and I found that even through my disability at the time, I wanted to do yoga. It was healing and nice, and allowed me to move my body at a time when I just wanted to lay down and be sick and cry.

So, deciding to do yoga teacher training was my way of learning to balance again, come to terms and even heal my weird balance disorder, and to challenge myself to get out of my comfort zone, and explore something that had been calling to me since I was twenty.


Inspired from Kashi Ashram

This piece is inspired by a post I hand wrote in my journal after three hours of yoga at the Ashram  on Monday night 3/5 at 9:22pm

Today, after 3 hours ( 2 back to back classes), I realized that religion doesn’t matter.

So much of my life has been wrestling and fighting the confusion in my head about what I believe, what I should believe, and what I could believe.

So much grieving and tight stomach pain has been cramped into my body in trying to stifle my own thoughts about religion and God.

And so much confusion has rotted into anger being mad at a God I barely believed in.

Something always made me keep holding on-if even by a hair strand, by a pinky graze. I kept my hand reaching out for Jesus, for someone’s garments-for healing, to stop the flow, the blood, the pain of not understanding.

To stop the pain of unanswered questions, and unreasonable expectations of understanding the universe and hundreds of thousands of ears of creation and destruction and remaking.

I’m constantly creating, and destroying,and remaking myself-and my views on God.

Yoga teacher training

Soo, I have been neglecting this page recently.

With my yoga teacher training and you tube page.

If you ave not already, check out my youtube channel here- click here

I have really been forgetting to put my thoughts and ideas down here.

Hello, to all my new people who found me through Tinybuddha.

If you emailed me, thank you for your kind words.

It’s amazing that so many of us go through similar trials and tribulations. We all have so much to teach each other.

And just when I thought I knew a decent amount, my eyes have been opened more and I’m aware of how much I still don’t know and how much ignorance is still in my life.

I’m excited, I’m awakened, and I’m eager to share my stories and my thoughts on my eight month yoga teacher training at the Ashram with you.

The art of waking up

You know, lately I’ve found myself in a slump. It’s like a half awake slump. A wow-I’m kind of awake and going through life but kind of not. It’s a constant struggle to “stay “awake” and really experience life.  It can feel this way for days or even weeks.


It may take weeks for me to have an event that really wakes me up and to experience life. Like maybe a holiday occurs or a really scary event happens that wakes me up and makes my eyes wide, my sense of smell heighten, and makes everything tingle and I can actually feel the blood in my body rush and remind me of my humanity.


I’m going to start doing things that help me feel awake. Yoga, running, writing, talking with loved ones, learning, reading.


What makes you feel awake?