What you gonna do?… Nothin…

As I rolled over into a crazy bought of nausea coupled with some dizzy, I began to ponder what herbal and yogic combination I put together to make myself feel better.

I mean, I could double up on the ginger tea and introduce some peach leaves. I could do more standing postures. I have to research ways to rid myself of these… uncomfortable sensations that keep me on the couch watching Fixer Upper while my son runs around the room. I mean, I gotta do something.

Then the idea came to me. I will do nothing! I mean, pregnancy is not a disease. It won’t kill me. I’ll be uncomfortable for a while and then it will pass. Things will be okay.

If you are asking how that’s working for me, my head is swimming as I type :). But, I feel okay with this choice. I feel like being in my body, a pregnant body is an amazing miracle and I want to experience all I can.  I don’t want to dull or avoid any of the “symptoms of pregnancy” because this is my last go around. I want to enjoy every little bit of it.

I am also beginning to feel like life is to be experienced the good and the bad; the pleasant and the painful. For once I am fully here and now. I don’t want to miss a thing. Events come and go, what makes them beneficial to us is our ability to experience them fully.

I say this now. Who knows what tomorrow will bring 🙂

Until then.. take precious care!


Another fucking yoga thinkpiece

My thoughts on yoga, how I feel about the practice and my experience of practicing yoga don’t quite match up. I often get angry, confused and threaten to quite teaching. But somehow I always end up back on the mat wearing tight pants and reminding folks to breathe. Life is weird.

When I think about yoga I get angry. I think about yoga as a colonized practice that is far away from it’s root. As an American I feel embarrassed because I participate in perpetuating the experience as yoga as something that is potentially less than a direct hotline to God. I could get into the latest brouhaha about whose teacher was caught fucking whom, why xyz, should not be taught in public classes and how white yoga is– but let’s not 🙂 These observations and the way they arise are more a sign of what’s going on in our culture, than an indication of yoga itself. Yoga is much more that what I capable of perceiving. I am slowly learning that.

When I teach and practice I often feel a bit of guilt and sadness, because I wish that I knew more. However the knowledge and experience that I seek is intangible. It’s more than the experience or feeling of a balanced, well rounded practice. It’s more than having a capable or authentic teacher. The thing that I most seek I imagine isn’t Stateside. Sadly, I am not going to India to time travel. Maybe next life time 🙂  Even though, I often feel something is off in the way I work, I am not quite sure how to remedy it. No amount of study or practice I’ve done makes me feel better. My moments of clarity in regards to yoga come when I yield to something larger than myself; which connects to my personal practice.

Yoga found me when I was a graduate student in Bournemouth, England. I don’t use my graduate degree–at all. But since that first class many many years ago, I’ve never stopped practicing yoga. When I practice, I feel God. I feel loved. I feel cared for. I feel seen. I feel known. I feel forgiven, empowered and uplifted. When I step on the mat, to practice or teach I feel a larger, infinitely wiser and more loving hand guiding what and how I do. In this moment, whatever I am going through fades into the background. It’s just me and my breath. All I need to do is make it to the next breath. All is well. Whenever and however I practice or teach my needs in the moment are met. Somehow, despite whatever brings me to the mat in the moment–everything is and will be alright.

Oddly enough, this is why I practice. Outside of herbalism, it’s one of the few spaces where I can surrender to a tangibly higher power and know that everything is really alright. I can actually let go of my frantic me, meld into something divine and then decide whether to reside in that space of divinity or not. Most often I flow back into myself, but its so nice to know that God is always an available option.

I guess that is why I practice and teach. It always brings me back to God.

..till next time..

Take Precious Care


Finally a Yoga Practice

So, at some point I mentioned that I had changed up my morning practice to accommodate my super cranky hips and lower back.

Here is what my morning practice has been looking like lately.

My intention was to gently warm things up while creating some strength and stability in my hips. So far, so much better 🙂 ahhhh

Happy Practicing!


I’ve been drinking: Tea of the week

IMG_3705This week I have been enjoying a nightly combination of elderflower, elderberry, rose buds, rose hips and hawthorn. It’s calmed me down, helped me sleep and supported me in managing a recent barrage of grief.

Okay, a barrage isn’t quite honest. I just.. stopped… grieving for a few weeks. I had developed this little ritual of arriving early to my Sunday morning yoga class, so I could sit in the car, listen to the blues and cry. I cry because I miss my Dad. I cry because no one incarnate loved me and cared for me like he did. And even though I know in my heart of hearts that he is quite happy now that he’s passed on, there is a part of me that can’t let go of the fact that the human being who cared for me first, and most in this whole world ain’t here anymore. Every Sunday I teach prenatal yoga, I would drown in my own tears and then get ready for class.

Until, I got tired of crying and used that time to just enjoy quiet. And then I stopped getting to class so early because my son and husband are cute and I don’t like leaving them all the time.

I thought all the emotion I felt was frustration because lil boo (my son) has decided that screaming at the top of his lungs for an hour was preferable to napping. I mean yeah, that grinds my gears, but it doesn’t induce the levels of stubborn evil I was at.

When I stopped my nightly yoga practice, started waking up in the middle of the night and started hitting the bottle, I knew there was a problem.

So…..I ended up with this tea..

4 parts Elderflower

1 Part Elderberry

1 Part Rose Buds

2 Parts Rose Hips

2 Parts Hawthorn Berry

From my experience, Elderflower is great for directing and managing emotions. I also find that Elderflower is super soothing. It’s my Grandmothers combined in plant form. Hawthorn puts me back in touch with my heart and supports me in expressing my grief. Rose Bud and Hips allow me to be compassionate with myself and others as grief unfolds. This shit ain’t easy and it’s okay. Elderberry is there to keep me from getting sick and feels like it’s supportive to my heart as well. I have a tendency to get sick when emotionally overwhelmed.

Now, I haven’t gotten fully back into my evening practice. But I have been practicing more since I  modified both my morning and evening  practice. I changed which hip opening postures I was doing and eased off the standing postures a bit. I’ve incorporated more restorative postures  because restorative yoga creates space for me. I find that since I don’t always have space to connect with myself, it’s easy to skip out on grieving. Incorporating poses that relax me, help me feel safe and encourage me to be with myself have been super awesome. I also started giving myself more space to talk to Daddy in the morning and cry if I need to 🙂

So this my friends is the tea of the week. If you decided to enjoy some yourself, please let me know how it works for you.

Infinite Blessings