Unfurled Hearts

Unfurled Hearts
Before we arrived at this place,

We lied still in the dank dark earth,

Waiting for that moment when you and I fell inline to cross paths. 

 From opposite ends we unfurled and stood in the thick of tall dark branches,

Until we found in each other a reflection that pushed them aside to let the light through. 

Creating hearts

Feet entwined,

Brows touching

Passing life 

Breath by breath 

Mouth to mouth.  

Transforming us to divine

Gods Immortal. 

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Plant Therapy

Woke up in a funk today 

In light of some recent events in the world, the states, my microcosm, the home, my room….

The first thought after teaching yoga this morning is that I need to clean, and then I’ll feel better,

But the heaviness would not leave for me to lift a limb.

Then I thought, I need a little motivation,

And so I went to the nursery,

Walked around conversing with my enlightened toddler,

Found a healthy new fiddle leaf fig and a lush maiden hair fern.

I never pretended to be perfect. 

Happiness in a swipe and small talk, “yes the weather is much nicer today… no receipt please.” No paper trails. 

Now my Boston fern and birds nest fern look happier and truth is, their chances of survival have just increased with their new companions….

As well as mine. 

Community 

C O M M U N I T Y

The beauty of it all is, by themselves, each of them struggled to stay up and balance. I had them walk forward and link arms and try and they all smiled simultaneously. Instantaneously it became easy. From all walks of life, all ages, genders, and without a thought on what another’s story is, we created union. 

#senioryoga #yogaeverydamnday #community #isupportdaca #dreamers #immigrants #humans #wearealljusthumans #balance #yogaeverydamnday #yogaforeveryone #yogaforall 

The Beauty of Receiver 

I’m finishing up my last three classes of the semester for my senior classes through Rio Hondo College. 

Yesterday and elderly Indian woman and her husband waited patiently to speak to me after class after speaking with several of the students who wanted to wish me well before we start again for he fall in two weeks. She came up to me, her eyes glazed with tears and told me, “you have made my dreams come true. Growing up in the Brahmin family as a girl, I always wanted to learn the sun salutations. All the boys and men went outside after morning prayers to practice Surya Namaskara, but I had to go into the kitchen to prepare meals with the women. Thank you so much for bringing me this gift!” And she gave me the most heartfelt hug, both of us in tears as her husband sat contentedly on a chair nodding the whole time with a smile on his face. I drove home crying happy tears at the blessings life brought me. 

Today wrapping up another senior class, both classes we focused on learning Surya Namaskar C so they can practice at home every morning without my assistance for the next two weeks before the next session starts again, another student came to me and asked for help with her shoulders and we did a little shoulder clock. She started tearing up telling me that her heart feels like it’s being pulled, but it was a happy feeling and I told her it can have that effect. She grabbed both my hands looking directly at me and told me, “I bless you every morning I wake up for bringing me this gift! You are an amazing teacher and thank you so much for everything you have taught me.” And she gave me the warmest hug and I told her thank you, again crying. Walking out of class I felt so full and shared the stories with a good friend, who told me that she feels blessed to have me in this world, and I have to say, I am the one blessed to have come across so many beautifully receptive and open people. I am reciprocating what I have learned from my teachers, whether they be yoga teachers, authors, philosophers, my children and my own students. In the past I have been received with sarcasm, skepticism, closed mindedness, and fear. It is worth so much to receive open and complete. 

Karma, perspective from a Carnivore 

“Mom, why are you vegan? You know that people are still going to kill animals and then it’s going to be for nothing.” 

“I’m doing it for more reasons than just animals, although the less people eat animals, the less they will have to hunt.”

“You know that scrape you got on that arm climbing down the tree yesterday?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It’s called Karma. That’s what you get for becoming vegan.”  

Morning After Pill

     After an eventful weekend of sound healings, Reiki, storytelling, and shedding, I woke up and locked myself in the bathroom, sitting on the “potty” to cry in solitude. Whether it was the Capricorn Moon pulling emotional memories from the stories ingrained into the fine grooves of our skin, or it was merely pure coincidence, the three days of this full moon came with others, as well as myself, sharing stories of our ancestors and our own past. Some told their stories loud, and some just shared it with their presence, but the intensity of everyone’s want for healing was thick and heavy. 

     During ceremony as my sister Arvindjeet chanted, sang, and sent out vibrations in the beautiful way she does, I walked from person to person performing reiki, hovering my hands over head, heart, arms, belly…. and in some instances feeling my heart heavy with that deep kind of hurt that makes it burn in ones threat, some with that kind of love that makes your skin tingle, some sighs, shivers, and some with a sort of softening release. The aftermath is often heavy for me and it takes a couple days for me to process everything I felt, on top of my own healing. So I found myself seeking Solace away from my kids in the bathroom with the door locked, and basically pissing from my eyes, but I began to think back to something a friend said this weekend. “People’s stories are so rich with beauty, whether it’s painful or joyful,” resonating and I couldn’t help but laugh while fully clothed on the toilet thinking about how beautiful it all is, so much so that we are capable of feeling the immensity of the pain and love in the way we do, that it brings us to places such as ones of this weekend, sprawled on the floor amongst friends, family and strangers, singing, crying tears, laughing, sharing intentions, and letting someone wave hards all over their body,

Trusting, vulnerable, open. 

     I heard the romp of 4 little feet running towards my sacred sanctuary yelling, “mom! I need to swallow a pill! I figured it out! I think I can do it! Can you give me a pill to swallow?”

My eldest must have had an epiphany of sorts and I handed him a harmless turmeric gel cap. He ran to the kitchen and I hear, “ugh!” And a splatter of liquid hitting the floor and the little one squealing with laughter. “Never mind! That was gross!” He tried to chew it. And the little one said, “happy birthday!” 

“Who’s birthday is it?”

The elder responding, “there must be a billion people in this world so it’s someone’s birthday right? Or it’s a lot of people’s birthdays today!” And he smiled at this revelation, his teeth bright yellow from the turmeric. 

Soul Dance 

Found an old free write from after Julian walkers dance tribe earlier this year. 
Soul Dance 
Dance from the soul,

The movements Wild.

Wild Woman,

Heart untethered,

Wild woman,

Dance to no beat! 

Move like fire

Ablaze from within,

Strike a match,

One flame,

One blaze!

Oh, we danced and in a moment, time stood still.

Everyone walked into church,

Shed their skin suit.

Walked into church and sign said, “leave your skin suit at the door. Remember to take it with you on your way out.”

Wild woman danced until the water spilled from our skin,

Peeling off the skin suit,

Spilled blood on the church floor 

Sacrificing oneself to be resurrected. 

Wild woman danced arms flying through the air and sweeping the dirt,

Leaped and flew and she danced to the wild man crying as he spun like the world,

All the feminine parts of his,

Sold. 

Then the music slowed down. 

I looked up. 

Everyone was frozen,

Some in another’s arms

And I walked from statue to statue and stared at the calcified suits,

A garden of statues and I gasped. 

I closed my eyes and began to move again.

Everyone moved again.

I had to leave the skin suit,

Stained upon the church floor,

Sinning in that way,

Walking out naked of my skin suit. 

#freewrite #streamofconscious #dance #soul #dancetribe #julianwalker #poem #poetry #church #yoga #love #poet

I Found My Bodhi Tree


I found my Bodhi Tree 

After class today @balancedlifecenters we had a short discussion about what yoga is. Yoga is not just postures and movement. It is a return to our home, the knowingness of connections and oneness, a return to that place we felt safe to just be without our defense mechanisms up that cause us to grow tight and tense over time physically and calculated and protecting our thoughts mentally. The process of this healing work can often be painful because we are returning back home often by walking through some of our old experiences and pains, but as one student said, “but it leaves us feeling good.” 

We can find yoga in a multitude of ways, Siddhartha found it meditating for 7 days under the bodhi tree which is translated as the tree of enlightenment or awakening. We walk our own path and must find our own path back and some of us are blessed to find the guides that help facilitate that journey, whether it be a guru, child, or even one who might bring out the darkness in us. 

Namaste to this journey of home. 

Musingnude #18 on eight year olds and relationships

I picked Elijah up from school Wednesday and he stood outside of the car looking at me through the window. 

“Hi Elijah! Are you getting in?” 

“Marcus (his best friend) told me he likes Jerilynn now.” 

“Aw, get in the car love. Did that bother you?”  Elijah’s been crushing on Jerilynn all year.”

“No, and…. he told everyone that I like Jerilynn.”

“Aw, did that bother you?”

“Well, no I guess it’s a good thing. I mean, it is the truth and who cares if everyone knows.” I’m completely in awe of how confident my eight year old is. I know I would have been mortified and probably completely deny it, but I contemplate telling him because I don’t want him to question his confidence. 

“Did Jerilynn say anything about it?”

“No, but she just smiled and she still talked to me.”  

When Jose got home from work, I ask Elijah if I can share his story. He nods. Jose is amused. 

I ask Elijah, “so do you want to have a girlfriend?” He’s in third grade and too young. 

“Nah. I’m too young.” Good boy. 

And Jose chimes in,”and having a girlfriend is like having homework.” Elijah cracks up hysterically! 

“That’s so funny! I hate homework.” And we laugh. 

“Wait, are you saying I’m like homework?”

“Well I like homework.” He winks at me smiling. 

The next day I pick Elijah up and he stands staring at me with a smile on his face. “Mom! Everyone wants me to ask Jerilynn to be my girlfriend because they all know I like her.”

“What did you say?”

“I said, ‘having a girlfriend is like having homework.'” Still laughing and smiling. “So Luis said I need to make her my girlfriend and he’ll take care of her because he can cook and clean and that kind of stuff.” I’m cracking up.  

“So what does Jerilynn have to say about all this?” 

“She ran up to me and said hi. I told her to meet me under the tree next Monday.”

“What? Why?”

“Well Marcus is too shy to talk to her and he stalks her so I told him that she will be under the tree and he can go talk to her.”

“That wouldn’t bother you? I thought you liked her.”

“I do like her, but I think he likes her more and I guess I could like Jada and Marcus could have a chance. I don’t want to have a girlfriend. They’re like homework.” He laughs again. He is going to find any excuse to use that line. The rest of the ride home Elijah is singing songs and in a good mood. 

I have no words. This boy amazes me at how mature he is and understanding he is about his friend and also that he feels too young for a relationship, but I’m also asking myself how I’m going to parent from here on out when kids are already talking about relationships. Smh

Freckles

Clarence stared intently at my face and smiled, “mom! You have so many moles on your face.” Waving his hands in front of my face. 

A boy told me that once in junior high school and said he wanted to play connect the dots. 

“Do you think it looks funny?” I ask.

“No.” He stared quietly, “I think it looks beautiful.”