Yoga has been the one constant in my life for the past 18 years. What may look like twisty, squirmy, squishy, slinky, writhing, wiggly tricks on my mat, is actually a sacred practice that has saved me a million times over and continues to heal lifetimes of deep seated wounds. It is my medicine, prayer in motion, and the most requested remedy by my body+heart+soul+mind.
It provides slow+deep breaths to calm my mind. It removes the armor around my heart so I can love passionately. It invites me to exist in my truth. It cuts through illusion. It strengthens my intuition. It grants me confidence to dance to my own rhythm. It enlivens divine feminine energy. It celebrates the most enchanting parts of myself I’ve hidden out of fear or shame. It heightens my senses. It gives me access to ancient wisdom buried in the depths of my soul. It guides me on an endless journey through my inner universe. It broadens my perspective. It nourishes my cells with oxygen. It honors my emotions. It gifts me the ability to fall deeper and deeper in love with my essence every day. It equips me with tools to navigate this unpredictable journey. It grants me patience. It leads me to multiple dimensions within myself. It encourages me to let go of what no longer serves me. It inspires me to learn+grow+evolve. It emboldens me to explore the unknown. It awakens my primal instincts. It begs me to ask the hard questions. It asks me to look at the answers, even when the answers are less than favorable. It deepens my relationships with all living creatures. It protects my wild. It indulges my never-ending curiosity. It holds my hand through my spiritual walkabout of highs+lows+everything in between. It connects me with source. It urges me to stay open to possibilities beyond my wildest imagination, and by goddess do I have a wild imagination.
The ancient healing art of yoga is a mystical+magical expedition through galaxies far and wide. I’m grateful she asked me to dance all those years ago. And even more grateful I said yes.