Nostalgia’s been whispering to me a lot lately. Her sweet smells spark memories from years past that I can’t quite put my finger on for several minutes. When I finally do, a subtle smile forms on my lips, and I feel my eyes start to sparkle with secrecy. It’s just me and my memory – caught up in that moment to which only I am granted access. They aren’t big moments. They don’t call for photographs or congratulatory keepsakes. They’re…
Two of my students held hands in savasana today. They lied diagonal on their mats so they could reach each other, and when I invited them to bring some movement into their fingers and toes, they wiggled their fingers in each other’s palms. This quiet, sweet offering of affection struck me. As we walk through our days reciting our stories and abiding by imaginary walls, we have the ability to cut through all of it with TOUCH. Touch brings us into…
Last week, I started an experiment. I wanted to practice my idea of radical self-care: to get ready for bed. No, really. To take ACTUAL care of myself. I’ve done experiments like this before (I’m going to yoga everyday! I’m going to make a new smoothie everyday!) and quickly figured out that anything labeled “everyday” instantly goes to the area of my brain labeled SABOTAGE and dies. A nightly routine eludes me. I tend to buzz around all day and…