I know I’m a week overdue with words to feed your hungry heads and hearts.
I’ve been stepping through the forest, making yoga mats medicinal and looking up at the night sky resting quietly above the outlines of craggy tree branches, alongside fog and night lit buildings. Let’s not forget what the winter air feels like when it becomes nostalgic and reminisces over fall’s lingering moisture.
The art of the story
is that there are a thousand lights inside here, inside your heart, your breath your flesh and bone.
Makes me wonder, if in our moments of struggle we are collecting the eclectic charms within that the girls in the magazines wear without, hanging from delicate wrists with
a loose and long credibility. Authentic in where they’ve been.
At the same time-those lights-they’re illuminating your soul saying
‘What is worth my time,
attention, prana, love?’
what might happen if you let your body and mind evolve more organically-
Don’t miss the in between spaces.
And Trust that your new location will align with the organic and serpentine path of the Soul. That everywhere you’ve been along the way is part of what makes you wax in your present fullness.