Grace Meyer Yoga

every year since i moved to Seattle, when the quince start their flowering, i have renewed Hope. Spring is upon us after the dark gray winter. last year and this year it’s beauty has a somewhat different meaning to me. last year i lost one of the loves of my life…our sweet sweet kitty, Arthur Grey Mouse. this year, Spring is marked with a decision to let go of treatment and move my Dad to Hospice. after last year, i wasn’t sure i’d survive my heart being broken again. but apparently, my heart still has some resilience. and i’m still breathing. but it hurts.

One of my favorite mantras lately - as I go thru a healing process.

‘I am made of Trillions of cells, each one filled with endless healing capacity.’

Let the sun shine and the growth continue!

Dave Matthews at the Gorge.
Fool in the Rain and everything that followed swallowed up the weariness in my heart.

Gratitude;
for this amazing place
for the wonders of movement and vibration
and really good company.

among the trees i seek solace and find my smile. they never fail to bring me to my heart. which is where i absolutely need to be right now. i’m heartsick. i grew up in a world where - if i made a ‘mistake’ or there was an accident or i was assaulted - i could retain control of my body. i’m not sure what to do with the rage and sadness i feel. the stain left by our last ‘president’ is feeling permanent…

all i can think to do right now is to visit the trees, and check in with people I love. i will also redouble my efforts to treat everyone with the greatest compassion i have to give. and for those who think this is a win…this desecration of Roe v. Wade, as my friend Mark used to say, f**k all the way off. that is my compassion for you. less than zero.

the desert. love. and then, the night sky lights up 180 degrees with flickering lightning. magic and love together.

Life wants life. And so the garden outside my door grows unbidden, unattended. She grows whether I notice her or not. I want ‘my’ life back, I plead. I want for it to grow, and for the opportunity to bloom again. So I stop, notice. Breathe. Here I am. I pause to gather my strength, I re-member myself, before the garden calls me again. And I go.

Grateful for the beautiful sky tonight.

Here we are, in an airport, getting ready to board. I/we haven’t been on a flight since March of last year flying home from SF. I feel excited and also anxious...it’s been forever since I’ve been with this many people in one place and I’m noticing how much my sense of personal space has changed. I am VERY sensitive now to others location and especially their overall energy. I’m hoping this is a good thing.

My Dad. Vaccine dose 1. So so so so so grateful. Unexpected tears of grief over those lost...and the breath after waiting, so sweet. Exhale.