To New Beds, Christmas Trees and Breakfast!

I generally am not very materialistic. I'm really not. I was half into that phase for a minute and it gets old. Not very fulfilling.

I AM into nesting, however... and I have to say that after many years of wanting them, I finally got the Anthropologie bedding. I'm so excited about it. I'm pretty sure that all I'm going to want to do is snuggle in my bed all day in my new cute blankets. 

I can take my computer to bed. I can write there, mess with my new website, schedule trainings and retreats and whatever else I get myself into. It will kind of be like I invested in a new office. Right?

It's not so bad if you look at it that way. Plus I bought it when it was 25% off on Black Friday.     

(I get my thrifty, a.k.a cheap gene from my father, thank goodness.) But this was a spend worth the wait. When I get a bed that is not in a hotel next week, I'll post a picture of my office/bed. It's the simple things, people. 

To new beds, christmas trees and breakfast in your own kitchen!! 

Not my stuff. Just thought it was funny that it had two of three things I'm excited for. :)

Yoga Shmoga.

Reading a book by Paulo Coelho. I rarely get to read fiction anymore, it's usually either a book about yoga philosophy or a book about the body. But I LOVE Paulo Coelho and since I'm on vacation...AND I no longer have a job even though I'm jumping in to start my Erin Kouvas, Creative Wellness business. 

It's interesting this book because it brings up questions of life satisfaction and the meaning of it all and it weaves in yoga. Of course, who doesn't weave in yoga these days? But the main character in this book is searching for something and she takes yoga classes but can't help but feel that it's all a bunch of malarkey. It makes me wonder if that's what some students in class are thinking. The odds are good that it must be happening for some. 

I never had that experience. It's always just clicked for me. Not all the physical practices did but certainly the message and the spirituality of it. And it's making me wonder what would be the difference between myself and someone who does it but can't help but think it's a lot of hoo hah. 

The fact that I have questioned the status quo, adults and religion since I was a young child maybe? Don't get me wrong, I love and believe in God but I have always doubted hellfire, all of the rules and certainly God's stern view of these children that he lovingly created. And even more than those stories, I questioned the fact that every religion said that it was right and that all others were wrong...even if they thought they were right...it must just be the Devil confusing those poor people. Not us, though. We've got this shit down pat. Hmmmm, I thought, interesting... 

Either way, yoga and everything else in this world is something you have to decide for yourself is helpful for you or not. If you decide to try it, commit yourself to 10 classes and at least 3 different teachers and while we're at it, two different styles of yoga before you say no thanks. I truly believe that yoga is for everyone but that you just have to find the right teacher/style for you to get you hooked. It's physical, which helps you calm the mental which lets you tap into the emotional and experience the spiritual. 

It's a whole lotta good. Check it out, skeptics! ;)

Mother Experience.

I get that things don't always go the way we want them to. 

I get that. 

I have seen in the past something that I really wanted burn into dust. I am sitting with something going on in my life at this very moment, a situation that I wanted to go one way...but is very definitely taking a turn in another direction. 

And it is because of these past experiences that rocked me and taught me, that I am able to sit in the midst of uncertainty and breathe. 

Thank you, Experience. 

All You Need Is...

       Love needs no words.   No explanation.     It just is.

Sometimes people need it to be qualified, quantified, proven like a mathematical equation.

Sometimes that happens. But when love is flowing, you just feel it, you just know. It doesn't have to be proven because you feel it in your stomach and your bones. 

Sometimes you will wait until seemingly the end of time for a person to say the words you've wanted to hear from the very first day you met them. And they just can't say it. Perhaps they've been hurt too deeply, they're too afraid. Perhaps they're waiting for you to say it.

Sometimes they say too much, too soon and you feel too much too soon...and then it all folds in like a house of cards that haunts you.

Whoever can write down the recipe for things turning out in the form of a perfectly baked relationship, well, that person deserves much more than the Nobel Peace Prize. Whoever can judge others'  relationships because they are and always have been perfect at relationships needs to stand up and be known. 

You must go through the ups and downs. You must climb the mountain and be knocked the hell off of it. Scrape yourself on every body part during the long way down. And hurt. And always remember that day, not by choice but because it sits in your body like a kidney stone.

But then. Be brave enough to do it again. Without knee pads and wrapped up in mummy tape, like the dead. No one wants to date a mummy. If you want to be one for a short time to heal, that's healthy but don't wait until your next lifetime frozen hard in there if you can help it.

No, be alive and fierce and weak and sweaty, nervous as hell but expecting only the best. Only the best.

Because someone wants to give that to you. And that person will show up, day after day. When you need coffee. When you're in the hospital. When you're the meanest thing in the whole wide world. When you claim that you do not love them, that you cannot, that there is simply too much that has happened and it will never, ever work.

When that person can root down like an oak tree and make you see the height of their strength and the depth of their love and it will make you shake. When they will wait and give you space and let you breathe your air, think your thoughts and feel your feelings, without needing you to be or do anything, you will know that you are loved.

We are all the assholes and we are all the heroes and the victims and the god blessed saints. What matters to you? Who matters to you? How are you showing up for that... how are you, you beautiful be-ing. May you be loved to the depths of your soul and the height of your amazingness. 

Amen.

Muddy Brack. Poetry.

Stillness hears your heart beat
silence hears your wish
the tightness of this moment
is capture to the fish

the moment that he's hooked
is when he knows somethings amiss
but when the air and sunlight hit
his muscles start to twitch

Let me go back...

Into the darkness
into the black
back to the coldness 
and the muddy brack.

it's safer there
there's no light to shine
on my scales and
the noises aren't pitched so high

i can hide, I can slither 
mud on my belly
and feel the cool comfort
ouch, you throw me around so carelessly.

it's over now
the deed is done
one moves on with the day
and the other becomes none.