Teaching LOTS in Early November

Hello, friends! I’m excited to announce that I’ll be teaching three classes during the first week of November. Such a great way to welcome a month of giving thanks.

Here’s a peak at my schedule that week:

The leaves dancing whimsically toward their final rest on the earth signals continuous change and a shift in energy toward the cooler, darker months of winter. I look forward to welcoming this these changes with you, as we build solar energy together (and perhaps some lunar energy as well!).

See you on the mat!

For Women Who Are ‘Difficult’ to Love

Warsan Shire

you are a horse running alone
and he tries to tame you
compares you to an impossible highway
to a burning house
says you are blinding him
that he could never leave you
forget you
want anything but you
you dizzy him, you are unbearable
every woman before or after you
is doused in your name
you fill his mouth
his teeth ache with memory of taste
his body just a long shadow seeking yours
but you are always too intense
frightening in the way you want him
unashamed and sacrificial
he tells you that no man can live up to the one who
lives in your head
and you tried to change didn’t you?
closed your mouth more
tried to be softer
prettier
less volatile, less awake
but even when sleeping you could feel
him traveling away from you in his dreams
so what did you want to do love
split his head open?
you can’t make homes out of human beings
someone should have already told you that
and if he wants to leave
then let him leave
you are terrifying
and strange and beautiful
something not everyone knows how to love.

Another Birthday

Another birthday. Where did this year go? My energy is stretched in different directions today, hoping to “use” this day for something “productive.” Maybe I should reflect on the past year: What went well? What didn’t? Or maybe I should set goals for the next: How can I be better? What can I improve?

As I slump into my desk chair, weighed down by a mild mid-afternoon crash, all I want is to be. No looking back. No forecasting. Just be here. Present. Fully me in this moment, and feeling grateful for the sun streaming through the windows, warming my skin. (I’ve missed autumn in Ohio.) Grateful for Sarah’s visit this afternoon filled with cupcakes and gossip, laughter and poignancy. For the millions (literally millions) of processes in this universe that had to function perfectly in order for me to be alive. Right now, in this very breath. In this very moment.

The Kookaburras

Mary Oliver

In every heart there is a coward and a procrastinator.
In every heart there is a god of flowers, just waiting
to come out of its cloud and lift its wings.
The kookaburras, kingfishers, pressed against the edge of their cage,
they asked me to open the door.
Years later I wake in the night and remember how I said to them,
no, and walked away.
They had the brown eyes of soft-hearted dogs.
They didn’t want to do anything so extraordinary, only to fly
home to their river.
By now I suppose the great darkness has covered them.
As for myself, I am not yet a god of even the palest flowers.
Nothing else has changed either.
Someone tosses their white bones to the dung-heap.
The sun shines on the latch of their cage.
I lie in the dark, my heart pounding.