Love’s Year

The moon will show herself one last time this year. She begs me to do the same, calling my name in that sweet soul-whisper only she and I can hear. It is a hushed riddle she requires me to answer before opening the door to the unmistakable truth. She only uses it to beckon me when I’ve been hiding too long. She’s quick to remind me it’s been a while.

Don’t worry, sweet one, she murmurs. We’ll wait for you if we need to, and we’ll love you voraciously all the same. But it’s been long enough now.

I can hear the indisputable thump-thump-thumping of my heart… or is it hers? There is no difference, 491ef5df644db602d3142dd48662a3acI feel, but I cannot know for sure. There is an unambiguous anxiety that builds as the clock tick-tocks it’s way to a new calendar. The moon has orchestrated a mesmerizing rhythm of waves crashing over each other like the days of the past year, muddled and messy and powerful; and this cold, salty air pleads me to look back as though it carries all of my secrets, disappointments and revelations. I can feel it right down to my marrow. I’ve been stretched in a way that cannot be unstretched. I’ve learned things impossible to unlearn. I know it is a good thing – it’s been a formidable few months. I’ve taken giant steps only to (momentarily) fall back tenfold. I’ve brushed myself off and seen the ferocious beauty of my universe-sized soul only to hold a mirror up to where I’ve conveniently been hiding a small speck of darkness. More, always more, she urged of me. Each time, managing to force me into deeper knowing, added forgiveness, and continually expanding grace. So now this head of mine begs for some spacious silence, a patch of warm ground to rest on for a while, a few spotless moments to piece together the puzzle of sagacious wisdom gained and not yet fully understood.

I will draw a bath in these last hours of the year. The salts will leach the worries out of my precious bones, one by one. The water will soak away the impossible expectations I’ve come to have of myself. I will replace them all with lists of laugher and smiles and sweetness past. As the hourglass drops her last grains of sand, I will set the unresolution to just be. I will deepen all of my cracks and wrinkles until they become grooves, prayers that hold an infinite capacity for love. I will meet your eyes with unconditional softness and trust that you will do the same for me.


playing with rocks


i feel like a kid.
it’s nothing new, i often feel like one. but today it’s really apparent, i’ve got my toys out.
it’s raining and chilly outside. it looks like an april skating rink out there and i don’t want to move.
so i’ve been playing with rocks: tourmaline, citrine, sodalite, to name a few.
i’ve been picking them up and feeling their weight.
the hematite is silky smooth and heavy. i let it sit between my legs at my root.
i put the rose quartz on my heart and just breathe.
the amethyst’s jagged edges scratch at my forehead reminding me to look and see with my other eye, the one that doesn’t blink.
don’t tell anyone, but i’m lying on the couch as i write this, my laptop propped on my legs. this is the only way i can get the stones to stay put. it must be quite the sight but the dog doesn’t seem to mind.

my partner asked me if I am becoming “all wooey wooey”.
and you see, this is the thing. as a yoga teacher, i’ve always had a fear of being perceived as “granola” (and i’m not talking about the goodness of breakfast cereal).
my sister thinks I’m pretty close to wearing socks and birkenstocks. she teases me about being flaky because i love to touch trees and be barefoot in the grass. i get really excited about lichen and moss. Sometimes i want to eat lilacs because their perfume is so intoxicating, it transports me into another reality.
in the past three weeks of my yoga classes, we’ve been exploring the chakras. we started at the base and are working our way up. next week my classes will be themed around the heart chakra.
it’s a pretty new-agey concept i guess, but when you let go of the stereotypes and start to connect with the meanings and ideas behind those little balls of energy, the practice has the potential to show you exactly where you are.
the base of the spine asks: am i actually holding myself on my own two feet? am i living a stable, balanced life?
the second chakra begs you to look deeply into your pelvis: am i connected to my creativity, my sensuality? do i still know how to take pleasure in my life and have fun?
i am certainly not trying to spin my chakras back into alignment.
i am not wearing rose-colored glasses either.
i think i am pretty grounded even though i sometimes dip my feet into magical territory.
i’m not trying to convince you.

the truth is, it is my groundedness that allows me to explore the mystical aspects of life without getting lost and without floating away. when i take the time to dig my toes into the dirt i am always reminded of where i came from and why I’m here.

so why am i telling you all this?
perhaps because i’ve been sitting with ideas.
i’ve been wanting to take myself in a (slightly) different direction.
i imagine some tiny little gnomes tugging at my hands: this way! No, no! this way!
it’s no surprise i guess. i have this thing with duality as you may have noticed.
my head tells me to be rational, to let go of the dreamland.
it also warns me of what people might think or say if i showed them what i carry in my coat pockets – gasp!
but my heart… my heart wants to pick up feathers and cedar. it wants to talk to foxes and whales.
my hands want to make food to feed your soul. they want to lay sweetgrass across your throat and help you sing.
i want to tell you how beautiful you are, how much you are loved.


i am navigating the sea of possibilities right now. i’ll let you know where it takes me, i promise.
maybe there is a way to do it all. i don’t know yet.
in the meantime i am enjoying spending time with my stones.