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I try to rouse others to find their truths by writing about my own! Yoga, meditation and aromatherapy teacher. Author: The Reddest Rose Bleeds the Deepest.
Photo by Kyle Cleveland on Unsplash

I teeter on the brink of depression. Alcoholism. Suicide. Anxiety that’s all-consuming. Psychosis. Normalcy that’s not the norm for me. Societal deformities. Freakish areas of grays and blacks and blues and… reds.

I see the egg shells.

They surround me in my mind, my friends, my environment, my frequent habits, my dreams (nightmares, more like), my closets, my car, my memories, my past life, my future goals.

I see them everywhere, and it’s as if they’re shards of glass about to cut me at any moment.

any moment

Sometimes? I avoid them at all costs, bouncing from cushion to cushion…

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“A million words would not bring you back. I know because I tried. Neither would a million tears. I know because I cried.”
— Unknown

I need you to lift me up, when the waters are too heavy for me to wade through, exhausting and depleting all energies I’ve mustered to just stay afloat, lest I drown in my own damn sorrow.

I need you to lift me up, when the gravity’s force is stronger than my will to live — live alone, that is — without you by my side any longer. …

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“We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.”
― Kurt Vonnegut

Labels are tricky, no?

I’m a sister. A friend. A co-worker. An artist. A dreamer. Lover. Yogi. Seeker. Teacher. Student. And the list goes on…

But why label anything when I’m simply me? What happens when I have a career change, a relationship change, a move in scenery, a new outlook, new thought, new mindset, new age?

Do I become different on the inside, deep down?


I’m still me.

I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. I didn’t know…

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“You were born a star; autograph your life with excellent works.”
― Matshona Dhliwayo

I step outside the realm of forever and find myself in the here and now.

I dip my toes into the cooling waters, sending shivers up and down my spine.

I can feel you in my bones. Might you feel me, too?

They say forever is just a word, but I think maybe (just maybe) it’s a place, instead.

In this place of forever, you’re alive inside my heart, my soul, my essence.

Your name forever rings true to itself, as if you were given this…

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“The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.”
Carl Sagan

on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam

suspended in a sunbeam

Whilst sipping coffee on the…

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“Would it please you if I said your eyes were twin goldfish bowls filled to the brim with the clearest green water and that when the fish swim to the top, as they are doing now, you are devilishly charming?”
― Margaret Mitchell

When you look longingly into my eyes — as if about to kiss me — I want to look down toward my toes, shying away from the reality that I don’t like you. Not even a little bit.

But when you look deeply into my sole being — as if about to sweep me off my feet…

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“Believe it or not, some of us have piercings and tattoos and dye our hair because we think it looks pretty, not for any deep sociological reason. This isn’t an act of protest against cultural or social repression. It’s not a grand, deliberately defiant gesture against capitalists or feminists or any other social group. It’s not even the fashion equivalent to sticking two fingers up at the world. The boring truth of it, Gabriel, is that I don’t dress like this to hurt my parents or draw attention to myself or make a statement. I just do it because I…

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“I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.”
― Emily Dickinson

For anyone who knows me at all, it’s no surprise that my favorite f word (let’s be honest here — my favorite word) is fuck.

From the Urban Dictionary itself, fuck is defined as follows:

an extremely flexible, magic word that exists in nearly every part of speech

Indeed, fuck is quite flexible and also pure magical. It stems from anger, love, lust, contentment, confusion, mystic, wonder, curiosity, allowance…

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“Another werewolf thing. Like most animals, we spent a large part of our lives engaged in the three Fs of basic survival. Feeding, fighting and… reproduction.”
― Kelley Armstrong
Or might we (I — because it’s my favorite word) say: fucking.


We feed on the energy consuming us, granted to us from the heavenly skies above, as we feel the urges to eat and feast and grow and strive. We feed on our passions as we cultivate our dreams into realities. We feed. We feed. We feed. As if inhuman. As if like werewolves.


We fight back the urges otherwise…

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“I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs
treat us as equals.”
— Winston Churchill

To name a few below, yoga incorporate animals, plants and insects alike to mimic the behavior of the abundance of creatures surrounding us, whilst we deepen our stretching and postures in our breathing, our movement, our alignment and so on.

Tree Pose:

We root our feet (roots) deep into the ground, until we find stillness in our lower half, meanwhile branching our arms upward toward the heavenly skies that gift us with its miraculous energy, as we sway from…

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