My Panic Attack and Yoga

A few days before my trip to see my now ex fiancé, I landed in the hospital for an anxiety attack. 

Landed might need be the right word. Floated. Hoped no one would recognize me on the red line as I rocked back and forth. 

Head rushing. My body was shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't see straight. My breath was like a stray jacket. 

I prayed to God that no one would recognize me, would want to start a conversation, or glance in my general direction. 

I don't remember the walk to the hospital from downtown crossing. I just remember texting my best friend Joell. 

I remember her replying in better words, but the gist being "I know you don't want me to be there, but I am gonna be there."

I remember them putting me in a room that looked like the room they make extra when no shipments are going into the ER. 

My head was spinning. Thinking of all the ways out of the relationship I was in. 

I remember the lyft ride home. The shame I felt. 

I was a Yoga teacher. I took leadership courses. I talk about self care and reflection for a living. Why the fuck did I land in the hospital for a panic attack? I should know better.



What the hell does this have to do with Yoga? 



Life is but a practice. It doesn't mean you get it right every time. It doesn't mean you have all the answers. It doesn't mean you are able to figure out every situation. You succeed in many. Fail in some. 



Your yoga practice has the potential to be the same. No. I don't just mean the physical shapes. I mean the non harming, truth speaking, discerning, meditative practices. The messy stuff. The stuff that forces you to question your actions. The meat that forces you to take a long and hard look at yourself. The shit that crawls under your skin and makes you want to run because you may break a person's heart in what you need to do for you. 



Yoga is not meant to be easy or simple or nice. It can, however, mean the difference between being stuck in the mud forever and learning to grow from the cracks when it dries. 




Some of you will read this. Some of you won't. That's okay. I hope some of you will feel more open to share your stories in the process. I hope some of you pass it on. 



Big love



Intentions vs. Resolutions

Resolutions tend to be short lived. They have a specific outcome. A majority of those times, if the outcome is not met in a short time of "all or nothing," we give up. 

Resolutions are inherently not meant to last. 

However, intentions are. Intentions have a more "day by day, moment by moment" flavor to them. 

Intentions give you an opportunity to start over. Moment by moment. No messiness. No gripping. Just a breath and get back on track. 


You can choose. Either works. I'd say the latter may free you up, though. 


Happy New Years Intentions.




Why I stopped caring if I pissed a few people off.

Now  I didn't intentionally piss others off. 

That's not what I meant. 

What I stopped doing was caring what others thought of my art. I was creating through movement and mind and body connection. And it was individualized. Still is. 

Why ?

Because the world doesn't need more sets and reps and more of the same. 

It is begging for innovators. 

For connectors. 

For lovers of intimate designs. 

The world is begging for people like you to feel listened to. 

I started to bring my loves of Neurology, Spirituality, Women's Empowerment, Yoga, and Strength Training together. Not out of randomness. It was out of necessity.

Why? Because it was worth it. 

It was and is messy. It's never certain. When is life ever certain? 

Take your pursuits and blare them loudly. Stop giving a fuck. Start creating change. 

If it weren't for pissing a few people off, I wouldn't be where I am today.