my mind
my body
and i
all live in one place
but it feels like we are
three completely different people
- Rupi Kaur
September came. I blinked and she was gone—seemingly crossed out like a list item; checked off my to-do list.
The lightness of summer bled into September and I thought this feeling would be infinite. I was flying and everything was beautiful from a million miles away.
And then my feet touched the earth. The soft soil held me as I struggled to find a way back home.
And I heard the words. I felt them reverberate in my body:
Now is the time.
Now is the time for nesting, for slowing down, for letting go—letting go of the things keeping you distracted.
Now is the time for shedding that old version of you—that you, who is healing and learning and exploring the subtle edges of your growth.
Now is the time for wrapping yourself up in layers—layers of almond oil, of cotton socks and scarves, of butternut squash soup and stewed apples.
Now is the time for making a home—a home within yourself, a home within your home. ✨
Home has meant different things to me at different times. Home is where the heart is. Home is where one starts from (T.S. Eliot). Home isn't a place it's a feeling (Cecelia Ahern). Home is a shelter from storms—all sorts of storms (William J. Bennett).
I spent September rushing between different homes. Homes within best friends and memories of my twenties. Homes in the cities I used to live in and the jobs I used to have. Homes in my dad's best friend's laugh and my grandmother's hand.
The thrill of rediscovering an old home is like none other. The nostalgia, the (perhaps misplaced) feeling of simpler times, the surprise of unearthing this lost treasure, and the grief of losing something that once was an extension of your own self—even once you've found it again.
After that trip, I came back to my current physical home and I felt like a stranger. I'd been running around all through summer enjoying vax girl freedoms and sunshine that I'd neglected to tend to the home within me.
Summer is inherently an extroverted time. There is no shame in deprioritizing stillness and reflection during this time—let yourself bask in the light—but autumn arrived on my doorstep and took me completely by surprise.
So I welcomed her in with a bit of unease and soon remembered she was an old friend.
I spent some time reacquainting myself with myself—not expelling energy to anyone or anything, but simply holding that light within.
I packed up my shorts and dusted the house. I moved furniture around and made space for a new altar. I walked underneath towering trees and remembered how beautiful it can be to let go.
We love summer. We really do love you, summer.
But autumn… Autumn is magic. There's nothing like her.
She reminds us to move slow, take care, and make a home. She invites us to take stock of all that we have created and let it nourish us. She asks us to get comfortable, to rest, and reflect.
Summer is fun. Autumn is tenderness.
Autumn is self-care. She is reconnection, she is a bright burning flame warming us from within, she is a home within a home.
Welcome autumn. We're ready for you. ✨
Yoga of movement ✨
We are back to our regularly scheduled programming this week!
Monday ✨ Slow flow 60 *in person* (book)
Tuesday ✨ Rejuvenate 45 (book)
Saturday ✨ Yoga in the fields 60 *in person* (book or drop-in)
Sunday ✨ *no class as I'm in my yoga teacher training this weekend*
Please try to sign up at least 3 hours before the start of class, and if you can't make it in real-time, you'll get the recording in your email.
I'm also available for private and corporate classes. I'm offering complimentary corporate classes to nonprofit and not-for-profit organizations. Reply to this email if you're interested!
Yoga of action ✨
I'm tithing 10% of my income from my online yoga classes to organizations that fight against white supremacy. Every month, I'll pick a new organization and highlight it below. If these organizations call to you, please consider contributing (no matter how small).
My October donation will go to Seeding Sovereignty, an Indigenous-led collective that works to radicalize and disrupt colonized spaces through land, body, and food sovereignty work, community building, and cultural preservation. The organization's work centers around land liberation, mutual aid, community defense, emancipation through education, and solidarity with marginalized populations.
Have a suggested organization? Leave a comment to share.
Yoga of words ✨
Grab a pen, grab your journal. Have a seat somewhere comfortable. Close your eyes, take a breath in, and let it go. Your weekly writing prompt is below.
Write about what home means to you. How can you create an environment within yourself, your house, and your community that feels nourishing and supportive?
Feel free to share what you've written by clicking the link below. Of course, you’re also welcome to keep this practice as just yours.
Other musings ✨
Respect AAVE (The Anti-Racism Daily)
What is somatics? It's culture (Instagram)
What if trigger warnings don’t work (The New Yorker)
What do video game heroes who go on epic quests mostly have in common? They meditate. (The Daily Meditator)
The year is 2014. It’s the middle of Barack Obama’s presidency, and everyone is discussing “The Oscar Selfie” and Pharell wearing “the hat.” (Refinery29)
“What time do you eat dinner?”—a question so seemingly basic that a respondent is likely to use it as a prompt to talk about something else. Ask about dinnertime and you’ll end up hearing all about a person’s upbringing and her current family situation, her workload and her waistline, the intimate dynamics of her life. The when of a meal can be as important as the what. (The New Yorker)
On repeat: Sorry - Original Demo by Beyoncé (Spotify)
I'm here for you—for class, for advice, for anything that you need or would like to share. Always a phone call/text/DM/reply button away.
LBC ✨
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