I arrived in Seattle in February 2016.

To say my landing was unexpectedly turbulent would be an understatement. I found myself alone and grieving in a city I didn’t know, without a job/place to live/a car, and only a handful of acquaintances.

Those acquaintances joined together to lift me up in my time of need… and I am now blessed to call them dear friends.

And, as the fates would have it, I soon found my way to Seattle Yoga Arts.

In April, I took my first SYA class immediately before interviewing for the Studio Manager position. I was hired! And so began my relationship with that beloved studio that shone its warm light on Capitol Hill for over 30 years (long before I’d ever set foot in the lobby!).

During the fall months, most traditions speaks of “the veil being thin” between the living and the dead. Whether by the influence of my own particular imprint of upbringing and ritual, or by my own sensitivity, I feel this. I feel oh-so-tender as autumn shows us its most necessary teaching – that letting go is as much a sacred part of life as everything else in the cycle. I feel closer to my own dead ancestors; how they once loved and lost and danced and saw with eyes wide open. I feel the preciousness of this moment’s living breath. Gratitude wells up within me regularly, like ocean waves, sometimes with surprisingly wild strength.

The new moon is a monthly invitation to embrace quietude, self-care, and inner wisdom. It is a potent time for both letting go and planting the seeds of intention. This special 90-minute gentle & Restorative yoga practice will be held on the auspicious evening of the New Moon in Scorpio – the perfect time to turn inward.

The winds of change are here once again. And I don’t just mean the blustery fall weather. (Although autumn remains one of the most brilliant teachers for how to let go gracefully, doesn’t it?!) My Seattle yoga home for these past 6 years lost their lease in August, and has now announced they are closing the business on October 31.

Almost without fail, when asked what helps to center and ground them, people will list “Nature” (or the equivalent) in their top 3.

I am no exception.

So, it was fortuitous timing that my partner and I had planned a week-long backpacking trip just after my beloved yoga studio, Seattle Yoga Arts, closed its doors for the last time. That news was sudden, unexpected, somewhat surreal, and definitely discombobulating. I was ripe for some Nature medicine. Packs on, we headed up those rugged mountains, into the Alpine Lakes Wilderness, toward Spectacle Lake (pictured above).

And here’s what the great outdoors reminded me…

Some thoughts on the last day at Seattle Yoga Arts’ current location, which I’ve identified as my yoga home and served in many capacities since arriving in Seattle 6+ years ago. Many of you on this list have never set foot in the studio, but all of us can relate to leaving a space or a place that has held so much…

Dear friends,

Some words of wisdom to contemplate on this day.

“Did you ever stop to think that you can’t leave for your job in the morning without being dependent upon most of the world?… Before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you’ve depended on more than half the world. This is the way our universe is structured. It is its interrelated quality. We aren’t going to have peace on earth until we recognize this basic fact of the interrelated structure of all reality.”
― Martin Luther King Jr., Christmas Sermon on Peace, 1967

I’m witnessing a boomerang effect on this side of the covid wave. Most of us spent so much time not doing the things we wanted to do for 2+ years that we’ve overcorrected and swerved back to the hectic, over-busy lifestyle we thought we were missing. Only to find ourselves exhausted or sometimes overwhelmed by it.

Many of us talk about our schedules as if we are captive to them. Yet most of us create our own schedules. So, if we are honest with ourselves, this busy-ness is actually of our own making. The good news is that means it’s within our ability to change this if we so desire.

Welcome to Summer Solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, longest day of the year. The sun has sun reaches its highest and northernmost points in the sky. In Seattle, this feels so expansive with our very long daylight hours.

Today, we are blessed with bright sun and thin, wispy clouds, and it does indeed feel like the kickoff to summer. On our morning walk, I took the dog through UpGarden, my neighborhood urban oasis where the explosion of color and vibrancy of the flowers is positively breathtaking. And wow, the bees!! The happy, busy bees got me thinking about cycles and seasons of productivity – in Nature, and therefore, all living beings.

Meet Dodge, our adoption-hopeful foster dog. This spry, wiry gentleman came into our lives precisely one week ago.

I’m in a group that sends each other images that have inspired and brought joy during the week… and so far, every single one is a photo of the natural world. Trees, mountains, flowers, water, stunning sunsets, and so on. It is any wonder that when we spend time in nature, we are rejuvenated on the deepest possible level of aliveness?

Dear friends,

When this email lands in your inbox, I’ll be on a long international flight. Nothing makes me want to stand up, stretch out freely, and take up all the space I want and need than being limited to an upright airplane seat for an extended period of time. Do you know this feeling, too?!

It’s one of those moments when I recognize how I take my daily unabated freedom of movement (or stillness) for granted. And that recognition, in turn, leads me to realize how many other freedoms I have come to take for granted in my lifetime – thanks to my ancestors and the mavericks of feminism / civil rights / labor rights / science.

This past week+, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to possess choice and autonomy over my body (or bodies) and its movements in the world… about who actually has such freedoms, who does not, and how often these freedoms may have an asterisk associated with them.

I've been on the road for just over a week. Celebrating a wedding, enjoying beloved family and friends, basking in the warmth sunshine, eating good food, forest bathing, and coastal sightseeing complete with harbor seal pups and Gray whales. It has been joy-filled and breathtaking.

When I'm in motion for a sustained amount of time like this, I notice that when I lie down at night, I feel as if I am still in trajectory down the highway: a persistent hum in my ears, vibration in my cells, an alert agitation.

One particularly long driving day, despite my exhaustion, I couldn't sleep initially because of this agitated energy. So I put on a yoga nidra recording and feel asleep before the recording ended.

The yoga nidra practice (often called "yogic sleep") allowed me to pause... return my body to a blessed state of inertia and reset my thoughts into a quieter, rest-inducing pattern. There are many ways to access a peaceful mind-body, of course. Yoga nidra is just one.

The past week did not go as planned. This is an understatement.

Does this ever happen to you? Does it feel like the gods and goddesses of space and time are laughing at you? Can you eventually laugh at yourself?

I’m a planner and a doer. (Many of you may have heard me say, “I get shit done.”) And, I know very well about myself that I get attached to things going a certain way. Even after 2+ pandemic years of relentless practice not being in control, I still have a hard time accepting that I am not in control of all the things. This week was another solid lesson in this practice.

Dear friends,

And so I begin a conscious intention to bring some beauty to your inbox.

It is true that there is unfathomable horror in the world.
It is also true that there is profound and breathtaking beauty.

Current events and headlines make it feel heartbreakingly skewed towards the former. I want to offer the latter. Not to pretend the horror doesn’t exist, but to keep us resilient and steadfast. Each of us is needed, today and tomorrow.

Beauty, simplicity, and ease are possibly the most precious touchstones I have for my work right now. So in that vein, I am starting here. From where I am: yogi, web designer, photographer.

Happy Solstice! We've made it to the shortest day and longest night of the year. In the Pacific Northwest, that is no small feat for those of us who are heavily influenced by the short gray, rainy days and lack of sunshine.

And so, we begin the journey back toward the light. Toward a new year. This can feel hopeful – an embrace of possibility, of a clean slate.

But if you are feeling discouraged...
If you are struggling...
If you are grieving...
If you are feeling disconnected / hopeless / confused / fatigued...

...I want to remind you, fellow human: you are not alone.