tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33562352631233827612024-03-05T01:55:00.395-08:00Ujjayi LifeA Yogi's Journey to Better LivingWriter Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.comBlogger83125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-87578331223000356882013-01-15T12:40:00.003-08:002013-01-15T12:40:56.374-08:00NEW LOCATION I HAVE A NEW LOCATION FOR MY BLOG! PLEASE JOIN ME AT<br />
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<br />Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-7595956962014068862013-01-11T12:38:00.000-08:002013-01-11T12:38:22.887-08:00Yawning Us Awake Greatness<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We the manifestation of our dreams destination connected to stars shooting having string attached to this wet globe with earth patches our consciousness gives conscious decision for the world to turn lifting dust from our pasts ashes and spreading to lungs of fellow three from the sun planet dwellers and starship sailors we haven't met because they know we're not ready our breath will continue into the next decade century millennia as breath of someone far from us now but feels where we've been that extra inhale of air taken every once in a while when the sunrise is seen and the past crosses the mind like morning birds across the sky we're the determination of cells and DNA to be more than human Morse Code and scribbled symbols to define the origin of our skin holding infinity within our souls rolling over during sleep before standing in the morning yawning us awake greatness where we are so continue to be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-14761888240795527352013-01-09T07:07:00.001-08:002013-01-09T07:07:30.326-08:00Questioning the Support of the Universe Part 1<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There is a saying that if you put what you want out to the Universe, it will conspire to make it happen. That's very true. Even knowing that, how does one welcome the help? Do you research and study all you can and then give what you have? Or do you say "Hey, F.Y.I, this is what I want," then begin from there? From what I've heard, it's all of the above. Not always together either. Some people quit their job and then almost immediately find the perfect one. A game plan won't even be in place. How does this happen and why?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Maybe the act of quitting, that declaration of having enough is so strong the Universe has no choice but to quickly respond. Like a ping pong match. When someone serves, the Universe better be quick if it wants to rally (which it does). Is the plan "In two weeks, I'm out of here," a solid enough affirmation to bring about such change? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I began practicing yoga in April 2012, everything about the rest of the year began to fall into a better place. I decided I wanted to be a full time writer, I cut hours at my job, cut my hair and went all natural and realized I could have a passion about something in life. Yoga was the key to that. One decision, "I'm going to take my first yoga class this week," resulted in me finding one of my passions in life. Helped me to find a way to understand myself, my spirit and the world around me. What are the odds when I take my first four yoga classes I have the opportunity to go to the yoga studio four times a week the whole next month and a win a challenge? Universe, was that you? *said coyly* </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Is that it then? Just claim something and trying it out no matter how small or great? This is on my mind since the worsening condition at my job. I want to quit. Yes I know, want all I like, the universe will allow me to keep wanting. Actually quitting...Oh I CAN quit. I should. At least there is another income and a couple months rent saved if I did. Is that still fair to my partner? Will the Universe back me up? It's not so easy when I think about effecting other people and bills. Why is it so easy to jump to the negative thoughts with such decision and not the super awesome ones that are bound to follow? (That's for another post I think) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I remember when I felt like I had no passion in life. A passionate person with no passion to pursue. I would see others and wonder, "What is that like? Why can't I have that?" I'd ask myself how a person finds something that makes sense to them and intrigues them so much they learn from it everyday. They don't mind working with it every day. They don't get bored, its just more exploration though familiar. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yoga was that for me. The passion I found to pursue and have tons to learn from all the time! I know that feeling now. The practice, practitioners, asana, meditation, spirituality...All of it is a continual process of exploration, interest and learning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My point is, I thought to myself about having a passion, "Why can't that be me?" A few months later it was. Now I'm asking again about quitting a corporate job to fully follow my career as a full time writer and yoga instructor, "Why can't that be me?" And then...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>To Be Continued.... </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-89283917622850069262013-01-06T20:04:00.000-08:002013-01-06T20:04:06.706-08:00Dreaming Reality (Literally) <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A few nights this week I've remembered some of my dreams. Groggy yet interested I grabbed my phone and keyed in what I remembered, trying my best to not illuminate my sleeping husband. I took some of the symbols and looked them up in an online dictionary tonight. Here's the dream that struck me the most this week. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was in bed, in my room at my mom's house. I just woke up from a nap I suppose. The room was dark and for some reason a ceiling fan was set directly above my bed that sits next to the wall. I stood in the middle of my bed to turn on the lights. They burned out. Except one, with a somewhat off rhythm dull pulse. Not completely out; struggling weakly to shine anything at all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Being on a bed isn't sturdy and I stumbled a bit trying to fix these lights. All of a sudden about five of my girl friends rushed in. "Are you okay?" "We'll help you!" "Let us get it! You alright?!" One of my friends was holding me gently by the arms as if I was in need of a jacket. "I'm fine, really, I'm okay." I said a bit confused and pleased they were so concerned. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Telling this dream to a good friend of mine she responded, "Yay support!" Support indeed! For what? The most striking aspects of this dream were the light bulbs and friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Looking up light bulbs I got a description of feeling ineffective, out of ideas and having nothing to offer. This is true. Lately I've been concerned about my current job situation and unsure of what to do. Not knowing where to turn or any steps to take. Also, the worst feeling of having nothing to give of substance. Even if I quit, what then? What do I have? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Seeing my friends meant aspects of my personality that I've rejected but am ready to incorporate and acknowledge. It also means positive news. Checking the date on my phone, I recorded this dream January 1, 2013. <i>01/01/2013 at 6:23am. That same evening I got the seed planted in my head to seriously consider teacher training this year.</i> This gives me a serious feeling of the Twilight Zone, only with a happy ending. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Oh Universe how subtle you are! </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'll explain. I feel it's significant one light bulb wasn't completely burnt out. It was very faint and barely pulsing but there was light none the less. Though I felt a bit useless and confused I wasn't completely down for the count. A small part of me was saying in a faithful whisper, "No Chelle, there's more. You have something to offer I promise". I've always been a person of many beginnings. I've mentioned this before, trying over and over and over again. Wanting to give up and (thankfully) never being able to. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Aspects of my personality being rejected does not surprise me. I usually have multiple goals to go for and ways of understanding them or aspects to them. I mean really, about five friends for a few light bulbs? I can't be anything but grateful for such support! I do like how I am ready to incorporate and acknowledge them. Even if it takes time to realize that's what I'm doing. They didn't walk or stroll in. My friends, my personality aka true nature and purpose (which I feel at times can be the same thing) rushed in! I was grateful though confused. Positive news. That brings me back to the friend with her hands on my shoulders. As if she was protecting me. My purpose, passions and destiny are here for me. We're friends. Only good can come from that. I'm safe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I had this dream five days ago and thinking on it now makes this first week in January make sense. Some of the things I signed up just happened to show up to me at the right time, like the both yoga challenges!</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I signed up for a 40 Day Personal Revolution with yoga</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A support group to encourage women to follow their dreams</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A yoga blog challenge to get me over my fear of posting </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Told my family and a few friends about my interest in being a yoga instructor. </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>All to tremendous support, good vibes and love! </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first day of the year I had a dream about my insecurities. The same dream projected me dashing them away with acknowledging my passions, embracing and following through with them. Five days later, I'm very excited and lovingly supported. <i>It's amazing what your soul knows and how the universe will conspire with it when the need is great. </i></span></div>
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I'm also glad I write down my dreams when I can. Even if I don't know what they mean at the time, going back to them I can understand how I'm feeling. More importantly, I can more fully appreciate what has happened because of them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-42452452528900159682013-01-05T20:33:00.000-08:002013-01-05T20:33:40.217-08:00Did You Breathe Today? <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Did you breathe today? Think about it. Have you felt your breath? Lungs? Are you aware of your existence? I want you to take a moment to sit back, close your eyes and take three strong yet calm breaths. I'll do them with you...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Did you do it? I did mine. If so, I bet you felt a difference. Did you realize you had a body, a chest with life energy flowing through it? If you didn't do it, that's okay, thought I hope you'll reconsider.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What is all the breathing about in yoga? Pranayama. Have you heard "If you can breathe you are doing yoga" or a variation of it. For me, it's about living. Waking up the sleeping or reviving the dead. Yes, the dead. There are multiple forms of life and therefore multiple forms of death. As I say, zombie's walk but they're not alive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Did you breathe today? Are you living or existing through space? The limbs can be alight by electricity as Frankenstein's poor monster. Or lived in like a child shivering in the sprinklers. Teeth chattering and still not ready to stop feeling the day's fun. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So often we walk around a bit numb. This is no judgment. I do it too. Life can go along without our realizing we were there. "Is it Friday already? Where did the week go?" It passed all the same, we just weren't there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Did you breathe today? Cry? Did your body ache from an overdose of joy? I hope so. If not, sit back and take three strong breaths. Life is within you. Let it circulate your blood. </span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-87090933246793962522013-01-05T16:26:00.000-08:002013-01-05T16:26:37.186-08:00Fear of Greatness<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yoga has a way of unlocking our buried thoughts and feelings. Or, putting the view of ourselves into greater focus. Fear is one of my feelings that need intense examining. I need to uncover my fear from piles of clean clothes, unwashed dishes and scattered papers with bits and pieces of different dreams and ideas. Put it under a magnifying glass. Not to over analyze but put into focus. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have a fear of greatness. A fear of the amazingly worthy unknown before me. How does one fear success? Fear the life they think about daily; daydream living the perfect existence? It's unfamiliar territory. As humans we naturally fear what we don't know. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">During a amazing Candlelight Yoga on January 1st ( a great way to start the new year!) at my home studio, a thought crossed my mind. <i>What if I taught yoga? </i>What if I used asana as the vehicle to seep my words into the souls of others as my teachers do? What if I was in front of a class of 40 reminding them what they are there for. Encouraging them to attempt a pose slightly feared because they now know they are better for it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Fear strikes! What about money for teacher training? What about my weak arms? Can I tell them what they need to know? How can I be a leader to others as I struggle to lead myself? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Money can be saved. Arms can be strengthened (I never thought I could chatarunga!). Knowledge is learned and everyone has the ability to lead if it's from the heart. When thought of this way, I'm left with excuses. Left with fearful words to slow or stop progress into a successful unknown. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Let me break down this phrase "successful unknown". The fear comes from "unknown". But why? It's successful! When you're used to living a certain lifestyle, happy or not, it's difficult to change. What's the solution? Turn the unknown into the known. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Instead of "What about money?" claim, "I'm going to have X amount of money by X." My arms aren't weak. They are progressively growing stronger. I can tell others what they need to know by passing on what I know. It's all you can do anyway. Leading from the heart, others will follow my love, truth and search for connection. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I suppose, I don't fear greatness. I fear the unknown. I'll say, with the little I've already found out I know, what's really to fear? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-33764085294859799142012-12-03T07:27:00.001-08:002012-12-03T07:27:21.059-08:00The Darkness Spoke Nightmares, The Light gave me Dreams<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>I.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The darkness spoke so loudly I could barely think
myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The familiar sound of its faithless taunt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Reverberated between my eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A serpent’s tongue before the strike<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Stalking my mousy shine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The darkness spoke nightmares behind my lids. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">No shutting my eyes for daydreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My morning sandman had gotten all wet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Muddy and swamp like, my new boogeyman.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The darkness spoke an identical rhythm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Calling on my frequency. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Stay down my dear. Why try to get up?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The darkness spoke with my voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>II.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The light opened my eyes with truthful words,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Why close your eyes? You cannot see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Purpose and possibility should be looked at
closely.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The light gave me my dreams in a crystal wind
chime<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Forever to jingle beautifully the sounds of my
passion<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Reflecting the sun with blinding brilliance<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Making lovely the teardrops on rainy days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The light took my hands and danced with me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We kicked the dust of dried up baggage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">“Breathe your limbs exhausted triumph.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Water your plants. This is life.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>III.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The darkness SPOKE.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The light didn’t listen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://cdn2-b.examiner.com/sites/default/files/styles/image_full_width_scaled/hash/e5/d0/lightinhands_0.jpg&sa=X&ei=QMO8UO71J8jUyQHt9IGQBg&ved=0CAkQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNHsBP6V8C0baH1pWcRLndF9VZhwAA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://cdn2-b.examiner.com/sites/default/files/styles/image_full_width_scaled/hash/e5/d0/lightinhands_0.jpg&sa=X&ei=QMO8UO71J8jUyQHt9IGQBg&ved=0CAkQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNHsBP6V8C0baH1pWcRLndF9VZhwAA" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">image from www.examimer.com</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The darkness Spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The light didn’t hear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The darkness… spoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">No one was there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I saw a tree and decided to climb<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The light widely smiled, then joined me. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>~Writer Yogi (Chelle) </b></i></span></div>
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Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-20615121339800395492012-11-10T05:05:00.001-08:002012-12-03T07:49:31.773-08:00TRUTH: Quotes 1 <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.yvonnelieblein.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/elemental-truth.jpeg&sa=X&ei=a1CeUIKmA8iHywHL8YEQ&ved=0CAoQ8wc4VA&usg=AFQjCNHqAq9X2gyveO1RTug50eJEZ1vAyw" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.yvonnelieblein.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/elemental-truth.jpeg&sa=X&ei=a1CeUIKmA8iHywHL8YEQ&ved=0CAoQ8wc4VA&usg=AFQjCNHqAq9X2gyveO1RTug50eJEZ1vAyw" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 15px; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;">Image from yvonnelieblein.com</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Beatles were right, "I get by with a little help from my friends!" Here are just a few quotes that recently came up, or have struck me for my Truth Journey from friends of mine. I hope they help you too! They say three is a charm, so why not give you a lovely three. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>"Is it possible that what you fear is not success but rather the loss of your old identity that believes you cannot be successful?" ~Richard La Rosa</b></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>"Gotta love on yourself" ~<a href="http://www.facebook.com/bodyimageblogger?fref=ts">Tammy Griffith</a></b></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>"You must have patience with miracles. When you wait for them, they will show up, often in disguise, but there nontheless" <a href="http://www.facebook.com/JenniferPastiloffYoga?fref=ts">~Jennifer Pastiloff </a></b></i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Remember "Yea, I tell MYSELF the TRUTH". That's what matters.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>With love, </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>Writer Yogi, Chelle </b></i></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-1954143605745799062012-11-06T07:29:00.001-08:002012-12-03T07:49:50.276-08:00TRUTH: Sickness, Joy and Guilt <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I took a day off of work yesterday. I woke up, threw up, then my husband put me back to bed. I had work later in the day. How could I afford to miss work? You may be thinking, "Well, that's easy, you're sick." In my case, it wasn't easy.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtFeX04xTeMHwLythFciZzgaDfXcQOqo8XtY8f7kfUD7L8aA4QuEV3SRZdWJgLhyphenhyphenomIM45xBdn7jm7rtlf-n5chU_iI56RDGKW27jPjm891_kmxzrPzrvHY_lv3q2mg6JRjDqcw4mFdg/s1600/1truth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtFeX04xTeMHwLythFciZzgaDfXcQOqo8XtY8f7kfUD7L8aA4QuEV3SRZdWJgLhyphenhyphenomIM45xBdn7jm7rtlf-n5chU_iI56RDGKW27jPjm891_kmxzrPzrvHY_lv3q2mg6JRjDqcw4mFdg/s200/1truth.jpg" width="119" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><u>My Truth Is</u>: I felt guilty for calling off work because I was sick. </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I felt guilty because it's the busiest time of the month at my job and I wasn't there to help out. I felt as though I was letting my co workers down. In reality this comes to,<b> I felt guilty for putting myself first.</b> I chose myself over the job and that did not completely sit well with me. I was supposed to push through. I have gotten sick in the morning and went to work before. Those days were different. I felt okay after.Unlike yesterday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was dreading going to work from 12pm -9pm. I was dreading putting my clothes on. My hand shook slightly as I ate some soup. My mind had moments of fogginess. I didn't get out of bed, again, until 2:30pm. For me, who considers sleeping Way In 12pm, this said something. I was exhausted, not well and needed the rest. If this was the case? Why such hard feelings? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>I have come to find, that I am the ring leader in sabotage when it comes to my own happiness and well being. </b>Even the smallest thing like sitting for 5 minutes to clear the mind clutter can be a challenge. Perfectionism gets in the way. I believe having the "right" time and the "right" place to sit for a few minutes are required to clear my head. Perfection isn't real! So why try to strive for it?! I even pride myself on the fact I know I am imperfect, and that coloring outside the lines can be beautiful and freeing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>The heart and mind are two different entities. The mind shouts it's demands and the heart whispers it's needs. </b></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The beginning of joy came from the fact I decided to lie on the floor. I decided to take a savasana and see if I could do a body scan. Though the body scan didn't really help me out much, it did give me a moment to think. I gave myself the opportunity to be present and make a decision by asking, "How do I feel? Is it worth going in?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I could feel the soup moving down my intestines in an uncomfortable way. I remembered the shaky spoon in my hand. I remembered hunching over a trash can. Thoughts of a long 55 hour week at work. Six days in a row. The another six days I was in the middle of. 12pm - 9pm. Did I really want to trudge through the day feeling like this? I remembered the tears the night before. Having to stop writing in my journal being overcome with crying at the thought of three more days in a row. I thought about myself. I should be kind, loving, take care. I chatted briefly with my network in the morning as to why I couldn't make the chat. They reminded me to take care of my health. My husband did as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And so I did. Joy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I called work,feeling guilty, but stood by the fact I was not coming in. I was sorely needed, <i>but so is my health</i>. <i>So is a good state of mind</i>. Joy comes from the fact I made the decision to take care of this body I live in. Though sick, I showered, did my hair and changed into clean house clothes. I took care of the outside a bit, to encourage the inside. I got to write (Oh My Joy!), share my truths and later in the day talk to my network. Joy from seeing my husband walk in the door even though he was not feeling well either. <b>Joy from saying Yes to loving myself.</b> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The truth is I made the right decision. Though a part of me is biting its finger nails at it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>What is your truth today? </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Namaste all, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">~Chelle, WY</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-87442043238810529902012-11-05T14:26:00.001-08:002012-12-03T07:50:08.558-08:00YEA, I tell MYSELF the TRUTH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtFeX04xTeMHwLythFciZzgaDfXcQOqo8XtY8f7kfUD7L8aA4QuEV3SRZdWJgLhyphenhyphenomIM45xBdn7jm7rtlf-n5chU_iI56RDGKW27jPjm891_kmxzrPzrvHY_lv3q2mg6JRjDqcw4mFdg/s1600/1truth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtFeX04xTeMHwLythFciZzgaDfXcQOqo8XtY8f7kfUD7L8aA4QuEV3SRZdWJgLhyphenhyphenomIM45xBdn7jm7rtlf-n5chU_iI56RDGKW27jPjm891_kmxzrPzrvHY_lv3q2mg6JRjDqcw4mFdg/s320/1truth.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Starting this month, I begin my 18 month transition to being a full time writer. At the beginning of the year, I made a goal to do anything needed to better myself. I figured it would stop at better health and finding my dream job. It has turned out to be so much more! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I began to realize what I really needed was TRUTH. Truth and Foundation. What exactly do I mean by "truth"? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What I am meant to be doing in my life. The truths I find about myself (actions, thoughts etc.). Any truths that arise from yoga, going natural, my relationship with food, and so on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One truth a day about life. Truth as in seeking honestly and true purpose.</span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Living the life meant to be lived. Loving oneself and no longer living lies told by ourselves and others.</i></b></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am seeking foundation. One truth a day is one baby step a day to living and <i>Ujjayi Life. Victorious Life. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are no set rules about how to go about this. I have set one truth a day so that you know, you only need one a day to begin to change. Looking at the overall picture can be overwhelming and lead to ignoring the present, the now. What is happening TODAY. If you have more than one truth, that's great! A friend of mine said she started a truth list! A great idea. My truths will be in my journal and of course here. For you to be able to join me in my journey. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I want to be open and honest. I want to be free from the lies and fear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I will tell you the truth, Not All Truth's will be Nice. Some truths you tell may hurt. In that, is where the healing is. You are admitting that this pain is there. You are admitting there is something not quite to your liking. Now you can do something about it! <b>And you do not have to do it alone! </b>I have a network I have become connected with to help me through my truth about my poor relationship with food (which is actually a poor relationship with myself). Find a network, a friend, pets, family, journal, a higher power. Perhaps all that I have listed are a higher power to you. It is what YOU need.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Also, don't feel like you have to move quickly. Again, one truth a day is a baby step. Sometimes you may have the same truth for a couple days, month, this whole 18 months! Or a truth may come up again after a few weeks or so. It doesn't matter! <b>Truth, is Truth! </b>Remember that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In the end, this is a journey about LOVE. Yes love. Loving yourself! Truly, honestly, openly, fearfully, angrily, broken heartedly, and in the end victoriously! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Whose with me? Who wants to share one truth a day to further your life's journey? Each day I will post to my Facebook and twitter, or this blog. I'll be using the hashtag <b>#MyOneTruth</b>. Feel free to share your truths with me using this tag on either of these places. Even if you don't share with me, make sure to at least share with yourself! You owe it to yourself to be honest. To live a happy life. This is the only one we have that I am aware of. Even if it's not, why not live many happy lives? What's the point of suffering? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can honestly say, things have changed in the most unexpected ways since I have gone on my mission of truth. Finding out about what I really want to do in life, where my fears are, what I have been doing to hold myself back, where I have been living victoriously and not even realizing it! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am here with my hand out and open to you. I want you to take it. Not just because I want to hold your hand and help you. I want you to help me too. We are in this together. Connection only makes us stronger. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My name is Rachelle Alexis Smith Stokes and I vow to TEll MYSELF THE TRUTH. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Will you? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Namaste with All The Love,</span><br />
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<i><b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">~Chelle, Writer Yogi </span></b></i>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-64084292481156343432012-10-26T09:03:00.001-07:002012-12-12T03:59:31.113-08:00Truth and Foundation : Sutra 1.41<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My Mantra For the next few months as I try to figure things out </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Truth and Foundation". </span></b><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://birthwithoutfearblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/seek_truth_by_beautifullyevil.jpg&sa=X&ei=frCKUKjQMMibyAG99YHACg&ved=0CAkQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNGcNBsxKPntmi5pZvTVtgnAt2aZwA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://birthwithoutfearblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/seek_truth_by_beautifullyevil.jpg&sa=X&ei=frCKUKjQMMibyAG99YHACg&ved=0CAkQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNGcNBsxKPntmi5pZvTVtgnAt2aZwA" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">birthwithoutfearblog.com</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My main focuses! Finding my truth and following it will lead to what I really want to do. Building a solid foundation will allow me to go forward, build up, without falling over and collapsing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In the <i><b>Yoga Sutras 1.41</b></i> it talks about your thoughts. What you constantly put in your mind, your mind will form to. Everything else will fall away. You will be <i>"devoid differentiation between knower, knowable and knowledge".</i> Your thoughts will be all three.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It also states <i>"When you cultivate one alone</i> [referring to thought], <i>all the other impressions become weaker and finer" </i>Focus on truth, the lies will fall away. They will become weak and won't be able to stay on. Focus on a strong foundation, solid, consistent,unshakable. All the fear, doubt, weakness, materials not needed or too weak, will crumble to dust. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So these are my major thoughts to fight through the end of the year. To start the next year on the path I am meant to lead. Truth and Foundation. There is no more. There can't be any less.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Do you have an end of the year Mantra? What is it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>Namaste with Love,</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>Chelle aka Writer Yogi </i></b></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-54274540562008317582012-10-17T16:55:00.004-07:002012-10-31T19:54:16.628-07:00Zombies: Walking Rigamortis <span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As some of you may know, I am going through a transition in my life. One that needs to happen very soon and that I have been fearful to put into fruition. I admit, one of the fears is my ability to what needs to be done. The other fear is the fact that my life decision doesn't just effect me. I have a husband and if I plan to run away and join the <a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/whats-in-name.html">circus</a> that's all good and dandy but I leave my partner with all the bills. "Hey honey, going through some stuff, just gonna drop everything and figure it all out, remember the bills and rent and I'll see you when I'm back". Yeah, not okay. At least not without the proper explanation and set up to still support the household.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So I know your thinking, blah blah, what about the zombies? Hey, isn't there enough of that these days anyway? ( I kid. Sort of).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here is my point, it feels like my body is dying when I feel how stiff I am. It doesn't help the absolute lack of yoga that's been my life for weeks! At the same time, even through unfortunate long bouts without yoga, I have never felt this way in my life on a consistent basis. It all began that week of almost 60 hours at <a href="http://www.elephantjournal.com/2012/10/if-youre-angry-you-know-it-say-im-pissed-rachelle-smith-stokes/">Not Ashtanga</a> aka work. It hasn't gone away since. Then the week before this one, I felt fine, but I had a few symptoms that I thought could be related to a cold. Not major sniffing or sneezing like now. And then this week, after being unable to stay warm (so zombie) in the cooler, going in and out to try to warm up (that helped sheesh!) I end up with a full blown cold by the end of the day. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">wpclipart.com</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's like I'm turning into a zombie. You start experiencing vague symptoms, an itch there, an odd urge. Then more specific ones like coughing (no blood here though). Then you finally change into the walking dead! Rigamortis and brainless overeating. Stiff from working and snacking all day because I run around so much. Got to keep my energy up. Plus I'm always thirsty or hungry (much like the undead with their metabolisms) and seeing unhappiness sits in your taste buds you must become happy with a snack yes? (The real answer is no but that's for another day) See the zombie relation there? I do <i>Not</i> however have any desire to eat human flesh. You're good. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> You don't really feel pain in the same way either as an animated corpse. Something may hurt a bit, but it becomes more of an inconvenience than anything. A zombie's arm gets blown off,and they are shocked an pissed mostly because now they have to try to eat you left handed (as a human it was righty) and the blast from the shotgun delayed it 1.5 seconds from charging it's meal. I mean honestly, on the job I look at my hands and wrists and go, "Where on earth did I get new little cuts on myself?" or "Ow, I just jammed something into my leg, it really hurts but no time for that." Then go home and see, geez, that was bleeding a little. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A specific part of me that is "decaying" are my hands. My hands used to be my favorite part on my body. Maybe they still are. Maybe they will be again. I always liked how they looked. Slender fingers and good skin. Nicely growing nails. I Write with them! Now when I look at them, I get a bit fearful and sad. What new cuts have they endured? Why are they so dry and worn looking? For the longest time my nails couldn't grow past a certain point without being broken off, Thanks not Ashtanga. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> I have not written a post in too long for myself and haven't submitted any to websites either. I looked at my hands yesterday, dear goodness what are they?! They were white and raw. (Shea butter to the rescue!) I mean, I could see flaky skin on the back of my right hand as if it had aged and was loosing moisture before inevitable decomposition. I know part of it is because of constant hand washing from the job. No it's not OCD but I can see the message in that. And sanitizing so not to infect anything that needs touching on </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">shelving after a brief sneezing fit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The point is the symbolism behind it. The decay of the physical connecting to the decay of the spiritual and artistic life. Make sense? I can see myself turning into a physical zombie, dying on the outside, and therefore see my art, dreams and purpose slowly fading away, decomposing, struggling to stay present in my mind. Trying to not lose my mind and drifting into the undead. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://merch-bot.com/wholesale/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/111-walking-zombie-shirt-design-black.gif&sa=X&ei=L0J_UP6iEOGkyQGSqIDYAw&ved=0CAoQ8wc4Lg&usg=AFQjCNEjpvsXmJc4N9mXR6bCLbFTpkkbLg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://merch-bot.com/wholesale/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/111-walking-zombie-shirt-design-black.gif&sa=X&ei=L0J_UP6iEOGkyQGSqIDYAw&ved=0CAoQ8wc4Lg&usg=AFQjCNEjpvsXmJc4N9mXR6bCLbFTpkkbLg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">from merch-bot.com</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><b>There is hope! Ah-ha-ha yes my dear friends!</b> This is not Resident Evil 100 or whatever it is now. (I mean really, let them be happy or end it all!). It's a bit more I Am Legend. Though probably one of the most depressing movies I have ever seen, at least there was a cure! Yes, humanity can be saved! All I have to do is quit my job, become a full time writer and yogi and live happily ever after. Aaaaand go! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Okay, so it's easy and not easy. I do have a loving husband who is absolutely amazing and that would be kind of, I don't know, inconsiderate, for me to just drop everything at the tip of a hat. Or is it? That is my struggle. (oh did I mention I have a bit of Jekyll and Hyde syndrome? Do what makes you happy! vs Be considerate of others! Halloween is in full bloom in this girl. *jack-o-lantern smile*)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I want to be a Writer, Yogi, Wife, Traveler, Searcher of Spirituality and leader to help others find there's, Connector of People, Open Book. The average 9am -5pm job has absolutely no appeal. Life is about Fun! There, I said it! <b>Life is about Fun, not work and Damnit that is what it shall be.</b> Well, one day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">But seriously, the cure. In the movie, I think he was strapping these zombie people to the table and starving the zombie out of them. Along with the cure he was working on. Again, I only saw the movie once. Really good but depressing! Either way, it's a great idea. Metaphorically be strapped to a table unable to do the things that are no good. (for the zombies killing and infecting people). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For me, can't work a job that doesn't make me happy if I'm strapped to a table. (aka quit) That's ripped out of my life. Not fully committing to my dreams and purpose will become torture. Just laying around I have nothing more to do but to think about them. Fear from making things happen turns into fear of not being able to if I stay on this table. Insecurity has been greatly dulled. I may still be insecure a little when I am freed but it's either go after what I want or go back to the table. <b>Starve all the bad out. Start dying. Just enough to regain my mind and be brought back to who I really am.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Then begin to get injected with the cure. Never working another job that doesn't have the slightest bit of meaning to me. Practicing yoga at least 4 times a week. Writing, writing, writing and some more! Following my dreams. No wait, even better. Grab my dreams by the hands like a best friend and walk together. Studying yoga philosophy, the chakras, my spirituality. Inspire others to do the same and perhaps one day teach them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I know I talk about this often. Unfortunately I am a person of many beginnings. I start over and over and over. And eventually I won't have to start over again. I will continue forward. I will say this, I rather start over again, then fail and never begin again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The good things is, I am soooo on my way to finally continuing with this beginning. Since I'm figuratively dying and all. Turning into a zombie with my walking rigamortis. What makes it so hard is that there is no hero to come in determined to change me back. I have to find my own abandoned lab, strap myself down and experiment. Like those enthusiastic mad scientists determined to prove themselves right so they become their own Guinea pig.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So here goes to the <a href="http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-6508/Why-You-Need-to-Take-a-Risk-on-Yourself.html">self cure</a>.</span><br />
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<b><i>Namaste with love,</i></b><br />
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<b><i>~Chelle aka Writer Yog</i></b><i>i</i>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-9035705467192808742012-10-12T08:09:00.000-07:002012-10-12T08:09:21.442-07:00Jennifer Pastiloff Day: Manifestation! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/c1.0.403.403/p403x403/576405_487096604657600_542391504_n.jpg&sa=X&ei=xRt4UMqECqGqyAGb0oGAAw&ved=0CAkQ8wc4Ew&usg=AFQjCNEl9qxelD8hkGH2nOIQ1JjSfUYFrg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/c1.0.403.403/p403x403/576405_487096604657600_542391504_n.jpg&sa=X&ei=xRt4UMqECqGqyAGb0oGAAw&ved=0CAkQ8wc4Ew&usg=AFQjCNEl9qxelD8hkGH2nOIQ1JjSfUYFrg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today I decided was going to be Jennifer Pastiloff Day. As some of you may know, or maybe not, I am a crazy Jen Fan! I've written a few pieces on her in my blog; <i><u><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/08/dreaming-in-paris-poem-to-and-inspired.html"><b><span style="color: cyan;">Dreaming in Paris</span></b></a></u></i> and <a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/whats-in-name.html"><span style="color: cyan;"><b><i><u>What's in a Name?</u></i></b></span> </a> I look up to her and love what she does. So I decided to show her some love by trying to encourage others to read her work. I even created the hastag #ManifestJen to see if I can spread the Love and Inpiration that way. I was surprised to see No Jen hastags. Whaaat?! And if you are a fan, hopefully you will join in and share you Jen favs as well! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I will give you links to major places you can find this lady. Along with a few "awe-mazing" as she might say, quotes from her. And hopefully you will be inspired to Manifest your dreams too! I know I have! </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://jenniferpastiloff.com/files/LIve_With_Intention_Jennifer_Pastiloff.jpg&sa=X&ei=jxt4UK-jHI_OyAGK6oHQBQ&ved=0CAoQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNHTRtgRpw8eOJQSrq0mRBwHTtu8fA" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://jenniferpastiloff.com/files/LIve_With_Intention_Jennifer_Pastiloff.jpg&sa=X&ei=jxt4UK-jHI_OyAGK6oHQBQ&ved=0CAoQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNHTRtgRpw8eOJQSrq0mRBwHTtu8fA" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here is a short bio about Jennifer Pastiloff from mindbodygreen.com: </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;">Jennifer Pastiloff was recently featured on Good Morning America. She is a yoga teacher, motivational speaker, writer, and advocate for children with special needs based in L.A. She is also the creator of the Manifestation Yoga® and leads retreats and workshops all over the world. Jennifer is currently writing her first book due out 2013 and has a popular daily blog called</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;"> </span><a href="http://manifestationyoga.com/" style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title=""><span style="color: black;"><i>Manifestation Station</i></span></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;">. Find her at</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;"> </span><a href="http://jenniferpastiloff.com/" style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title=""><i><span style="color: black;">JenniferPastiloff.com</span></i></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;">and on</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;"> </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/JenniferPastiloffYoga" style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title=""><span style="color: black;"><i>Facebook</i></span></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;">and</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;"> </span><a class="twitter-anywhere-user" href="http://twitter.com/#!/ManifestYogaJen" style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title=""><i><span style="color: black;">Twitter</span></i></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue-Light, 'Helvetica Neue Light', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 17.316667556762695px;">. </span><br />
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<i>Jen will be leading a Manifestation Yoga® weekend retreat at <a href="http://kripalu.org/program/view/MYBM-131/manifestation_yoga_creating_breakthroughs_on_and" style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title=""><span style="color: black;">Kripalu Center</span></a> for Yoga and Health in the Berkshires, Massachusetts Feb 1-3, 2013. And find her other retreats at <a href="http://thetravelyogi.com/teachers/jennifer-pastiloff/" style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title=""><span style="color: black;">The Travel Yogi</span></a> and her online classes at <a href="http://yogisanonymous.com/yoga-video-library.php?teacher=Jennifer%20Pastiloff" style="border: 0px; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;" target="_blank" title=""><span style="color: black;">YogisAnonymous</span></a></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/c29.0.403.403/p403x403/554398_10151217190625914_415445424_n.jpg&sa=X&ei=Lxt4UOW6LIX7ygHggoHICg&ved=0CAkQ8wc4Lw&usg=AFQjCNEz-o3gtP8MjiQMv8_hj1i1X8c3xQ" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/c29.0.403.403/p403x403/554398_10151217190625914_415445424_n.jpg&sa=X&ei=Lxt4UOW6LIX7ygHggoHICg&ved=0CAkQ8wc4Lw&usg=AFQjCNEz-o3gtP8MjiQMv8_hj1i1X8c3xQ" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Her blog: <b><i><u><a href="http://manifestationyoga.com/"><span style="color: blue;">The Manifest -Station:</span></a></u></i></b> Where you can read her inspirational writing, and find links to retreats, interviews, videos, and More! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She is a Wellness Expert on Mindbodygreen.com : <i><u><a href="http://www.mindbodygreen.com/wc/jennifer-pastiloff"><b><span style="color: blue;">HERE</span></b></a></u></i> is a link to her articles she writes regularly for them! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You can also find her on <i><u><a href="http://www.facebook.com/JenniferPastiloffYoga?fref=ts"><span style="color: blue;"><b>FACEBOOK</b></span></a></u></i> and <b><i><u><a href="https://twitter.com/ManifestYogaJen"><span style="color: blue;">TWITTER! </span></a></u></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Fear, Strength, Yoga, Dreams, Family, Truth, Awe and Wonder and Manifesting are just a few topics you will find her writing about. She speaks of real life and also has no problem having a bit of fun! I mean, she did create<a href="http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-5085/What-the-Heck-Is-Karaoke-Yoga.html"><b><i> Karaoke Yoga! </i></b></a> Yes,you read that right. Rocking out and Yoga combined! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I truly hope you take the time to connect with her. Or at least drop her a nice line, I'm sure she'd love that. Namaste my friends, and make sure to Manifest your dreams! </span><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">~Chelle aka Writer Yogi</span></i></b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.yoganonymous.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/weekend-picks-jennifer-pastiloff.jpg&sa=X&ei=sxp4UKyMJbDKyQHclYD4Cg&ved=0CAkQ8wc4vwE&usg=AFQjCNG2Gkj8QtuQXSKOXbtjp4G2mNq6-w" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.yoganonymous.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/weekend-picks-jennifer-pastiloff.jpg&sa=X&ei=sxp4UKyMJbDKyQHclYD4Cg&ved=0CAkQ8wc4vwE&usg=AFQjCNG2Gkj8QtuQXSKOXbtjp4G2mNq6-w" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-35843157224586852372012-10-09T18:32:00.000-07:002012-10-09T18:32:41.256-07:00Weekly Updates (October 9)<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In case you missed it, here are my weekly updates!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDXkprkn6Yl5gyKPlNGpHx-3lFEV7Sz2RPXjvCH3FbUJ6GLhtlmLtPUyY4xMxsyenYWT4sRTEg3QSm5LW_yfv7urH_Qbj3IPRnNRMaOQCUO_tZolcZoOnjoTSpGhFmPbEft35xi_cGm1A/s1600/Ujjayi+Life+Weekly+Updates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDXkprkn6Yl5gyKPlNGpHx-3lFEV7Sz2RPXjvCH3FbUJ6GLhtlmLtPUyY4xMxsyenYWT4sRTEg3QSm5LW_yfv7urH_Qbj3IPRnNRMaOQCUO_tZolcZoOnjoTSpGhFmPbEft35xi_cGm1A/s320/Ujjayi+Life+Weekly+Updates.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Body Talk:</b> </span><span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: center;">Yoga makes a mouth of it to share my truth.</span><span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Free as a baby’s imagination. </span><span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Let its flexing tell my story without ink...more <a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/i-want-my-body-to-talk-poem.html"><i><b>Here </b></i></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Nursery Yoga: Circles and Squares:</b> <span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">This square, my doing what I am not meant to do, is wedged in this round area. The space cut out for me to live my passions, dreams and my calling. What to do with something crammed in a space that it won't get out of? Change,its size and shape!...more <a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/10/nursery-yoga-circles-and-squares.html"><i><b>Here</b></i></a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Medusa's Eye's: Being paralyzed by fear:</b> </span><em style="border: 0px; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">“Do not look directly at it!”</em><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em;">are the shouts you can hear from a gang of warriors attempting to slay the monster Medusa.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">One look at this dreadful creature in the eyes and you turn to stone. Snake haired and mortal hating, she was a force to reckon with.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 24px;">Thinking of accomplishing a major goal makes me think of Medusa. If we look directly at what we’re trying to change it’s almost like turning to stone. We begin to freeze up, the mind goes blank and we’re stuck forever looking forward and never going anywhere. The fear, Medusa’s eyes, have us paralyzed...more <i><b><a href="http://www.rebellesociety.com/2012/10/05/medusas-eyes-being-paralyzed-by-fear/">Here </a></b></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 24px;"><b>Yogic Prayer:</b> </span><span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">Sometimes it's anger, sometimes it's tears, other times its complete joy, or the feeling of what it's like to be a soul. In the ends it's one thing...more <a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/10/yogic-prayer.html"><i><b>Here</b></i></a></span><br />
Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-36202857394788987912012-10-05T20:50:00.001-07:002012-10-05T20:50:56.401-07:00Yogic Prayer <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I did a google search "yogic prayer" and this is an image I got. </span><br /><a href="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRYqIeuhf_j98AEYa0y6rYgMs3kg5cTyL5M3jJS2zV0wOvrtdClrg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRYqIeuhf_j98AEYa0y6rYgMs3kg5cTyL5M3jJS2zV0wOvrtdClrg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Yoga in the sacred place. (Padmasana Prayer Anahatha) A man doing yoga in Canti Ijo buddhist temple at the highest point of Yogyakarta, Indonesia. from flikr.com</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes yoga and meditation can be like that. You are so open and honest with your body and the experience you have no choice but to lay in savasana, vulernable to what comes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes it's anger, sometimes it's tears, other times its complete joy, or the feeling of what it's like to be a soul. In the ends it's one thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Truth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>~Writer Yogi</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>(Chelle) </i></b></span><br />
Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-1308425124880672202012-10-02T08:09:00.000-07:002012-10-02T08:09:12.233-07:00Nursery Yoga: Circles and Squares<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today I had the thought, "Who Am I?" Probably one of the oldest questions around and one whose answer can change from year to year or month in the same person. A friend of mine, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/mamastenyc?fref=ts">Sharon Pingitore</a>, read an article I wrote, <a href="http://www.rebellesociety.com/2012/09/30/the-yoga-diaries-sweat-spirituality/">The Yoga Diaries: Sweat & Spirituality</a>, to her class. I was so honored she would ask to do this and that it turns out my words were well received and others could relate. I am so proud and in awe that I can make a difference to others which is exactly what I want to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This brought up the classic question. Who am I? The answer I got was <b>"I am what I do"</b>. I <i>do</i> yoga. What I do with yoga is I explore it and spirituality. I write. I write of inspiration, and love and whatever else moves me. So I am a yogi, a seeker and writer of the truths I see. What an amazing feeling to know I am what I have wanted to be. Like in the article "You are already there." Man! I can't even explain how crazy it is. Crazy in a good way to know I am on the path I've been searching for after choosing the wrong way so many times.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xlrp0iYHAOZrXPfP-EiEjig2FJHRPzCs0P5c2bXrprVyqVhnYDsTo-TD53JW3t6qq4_Vnb_djVX2ePgezZjpJQKzGbQnO4zW9jJSmJZCBGAs7SGa-CxabCoJu0fxXgsZ91PJZ_DTdI6c/s1600/square_peg_in_round_hole_2.jpg&sa=X&ei=XgJrUPD6AcKXqAHZ5YGQBA&ved=0CAoQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNFI_PAma-_is4d9YuOTJT0gT1Apow" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xlrp0iYHAOZrXPfP-EiEjig2FJHRPzCs0P5c2bXrprVyqVhnYDsTo-TD53JW3t6qq4_Vnb_djVX2ePgezZjpJQKzGbQnO4zW9jJSmJZCBGAs7SGa-CxabCoJu0fxXgsZ91PJZ_DTdI6c/s320/square_peg_in_round_hole_2.jpg&sa=X&ei=XgJrUPD6AcKXqAHZ5YGQBA&ved=0CAoQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNFI_PAma-_is4d9YuOTJT0gT1Apow" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It brings up the claustrophobic feeling I have had for the past week and into this one. I <i>do</i> work too much at a job I have absolutely no heart for. I do put effort into something that brings me no joy and I see as a waste of time I could be putting into my practice and writing for others. It took a while, but I have finally got it out! YES! (I have been contemplating this for some days now). Perhaps the claustrophobic feeling is coming from not necessarily having a lack of space, <i>but trying to fit something into the wrong space. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Like trying to put a square into a circle. It's not that the space isn't sufficient, the circle fits just fine. The square just doesn't belong so it wont fit! </b>There is no space for it, its all wrong. By George, she's on a roll! I have been feeling crowded because my current occupation is being crammed where it doesn't belong. It's the square to my circular space. Now, this space is a long space. It's big. That's why you can fit more than one circle in it. It just has to be a circle! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm working weekends, and all throughout the week, running around all day, then trying to find time to write, practice and spend time with the ones I love. The later is trying to stay where it belongs and is almost being pushed out because the stupid square is clogging up the space. Forcing itself to be where it shouldn't and therefore twisting and turning around to try to make room.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The sides are all smashed and wedged,chipping, and the area it's in is just about ready to burst! I've got to find a knife and hack away at it. Or gently begin to carve it out so it falls away. Or, better yet, shape it into a circle!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This square, my doing what I am not meant to do, is wedged in this round area. The space cut out for me to live my passions, dreams and my calling. What to do with something crammed in a space that it won't get out of? Change,its size and shape! I'll cut off the corners a bit. Round out the rigid sides. Condense it a bit, and there. you've got a circle! If I am working harder at anything, it needs to be changing my career to being a writer. Change my lifestyle to include more yoga. Explore more spirituality from my practice and myself. Then share what I have and continue to learn from others. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Geez, I am so glad I finally got that all sorted out. We learn our shapes when we are young. Triangle with the triangle. Star with a star. But as we get older, we think we're smarter than that and try to fit things where they don't belong. It's like we regress. "Nope, this rectangle is going to fit into this star by God! I can do it!" It's scary to do what comes easy to us at times. To go with the natural flow of things. Letting the circle drop oh so smoothly into the round space.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It comes from society and ourselves. In my case, a little of both. How many times have you hear "Oh, so you want to be a writer? You don't think you're going to be Stephen King do you?" Or "There is no money in that" And there is yourself. "What if people don't read me?" Mixed with society. "I really love what I do, but how will I make living? I guess I'll have to get a regular job on the side right?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Wrong. You <i>can</i>, but that doesn't mean you should. You don't have to. Another old saying, "If there is a will there is a way". People live by being writers and yogis all the time. And that is what they do. Some with other jobs on the side. And some not. More yogi's I am getting to know who have jobs on the side, love that job! We get caught up in doing what we are supposed to do to supplement ourselves and forget, <b>You can do what you love even if you are not rich and famous. </b>Something I feel is a message that lacks advertisement.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will leave you with this. Are there any squares shoved in your circular space? Is there a way for you to change its shape? If not, don't sculpt it, just cut it out and let it fall away. Whose coming back to nursery school with me? Let's work on our shapes! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>~Writer Yogi</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>with love, namaste </i></b></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-70887273063674054032012-09-25T15:03:00.001-07:002012-09-30T06:11:44.859-07:00Body Talk (Poem)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfhyPmb9UVHzx6_Ka7j96XzlzJReqqHfRPUZY9THMgP6pvbZmfpnwG0HAN4tWFa_ZrVDZ2kQyaAuI_fjbQKcgQf2moSVve7rrKEDuDRk2lGaoRydMaR0HC3M2wJeFVKFBtqyTqrm4vlRN/s624/yoga.jpg&sa=X&ei=WBFiUNuYHuO5ygGg9ICADA&ved=0CAkQ8wc4TA&usg=AFQjCNGIhg553BjNS0PyDDeJNrXsUT0o2Q" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfhyPmb9UVHzx6_Ka7j96XzlzJReqqHfRPUZY9THMgP6pvbZmfpnwG0HAN4tWFa_ZrVDZ2kQyaAuI_fjbQKcgQf2moSVve7rrKEDuDRk2lGaoRydMaR0HC3M2wJeFVKFBtqyTqrm4vlRN/s624/yoga.jpg&sa=X&ei=WBFiUNuYHuO5ygGg9ICADA&ved=0CAkQ8wc4TA&usg=AFQjCNGIhg553BjNS0PyDDeJNrXsUT0o2Q" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">image from ashtangayogameditation.blogspot.com</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yoga makes a mouth of it to share my truth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Free as a baby’s imagination<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Let its flexing tell my story without ink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As reaching fingers in a sun salutation grab at
air<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Forming my intention. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My most back (bending) and forward (folding) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Negativity sweats out of my pores. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In Warrior I my thighs yawn widely the details.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Without practice, my tongue is still as a lost
child in a great cave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What really comes of a mouth that hangs open and
shut <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As a broken door on well-oiled hinges? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ah, how the heart unfurls like secret flowers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What passion it expels <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As the body begins to feel wispy in a vinyasa
ballet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">By savasana, there’s no need for verbal words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The body has said it all. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-90435178593060269432012-09-23T14:06:00.000-07:002012-09-23T14:06:02.519-07:00Weekly Updates (September 23)<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In case you missed it. Here are my links from my blog and my other writing homes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As always, thanks for reading! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDXkprkn6Yl5gyKPlNGpHx-3lFEV7Sz2RPXjvCH3FbUJ6GLhtlmLtPUyY4xMxsyenYWT4sRTEg3QSm5LW_yfv7urH_Qbj3IPRnNRMaOQCUO_tZolcZoOnjoTSpGhFmPbEft35xi_cGm1A/s1600/Ujjayi+Life+Weekly+Updates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDXkprkn6Yl5gyKPlNGpHx-3lFEV7Sz2RPXjvCH3FbUJ6GLhtlmLtPUyY4xMxsyenYWT4sRTEg3QSm5LW_yfv7urH_Qbj3IPRnNRMaOQCUO_tZolcZoOnjoTSpGhFmPbEft35xi_cGm1A/s320/Ujjayi+Life+Weekly+Updates.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/lesson-from-labyrinth.html"><b>Lessons from </b><i><b>Labyrinth </b>(9/17)</i></a>: <span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"> J</span><span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">ust because you have to take a major part of it alone, doesn't mean you can't come back with the other's when it's over.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/to-grandfather-from-baby.html"><b>To Grandfather, From The Baby</b> (9/19)</a>: </span></span><span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">I can hear you wondering aloud about our clothes and the small bright things that make noise and everyone is touching all day. The great grandbaby's are playing and shouting and Grandmother uses a cane now. The house is almost a new thing but much is still the same. You built it with your own hands and of course your family still lives where they belong right? Your work is solid. You always knew it. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><a href="http://www.rebellesociety.com/2012/09/20/practice-and-all-is-coming/"><b>"Practice and All Is Coming"</b> via Rebelle Society (9/20):</a> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The life you were meant to live. The life that lives up and over your fullest potential if you work at it. The life you feel warming your solar plexus like butterfly hums. A tingling during brief moments of paused thought and all of a sudden you know you’re on the right track.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://media-cache-ec5.pinterest.com/upload/285415695105287273_b9ORxXLQ_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://media-cache-ec5.pinterest.com/upload/285415695105287273_b9ORxXLQ_f.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Since I was gone all weekend for a wedding, I thought a fun yoga wedding picture was appropriate! Even though they weren't yogis. haha. :) </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Namaste My Friends, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Chelle aka Writer Yogi </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f1fffe; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-63623681872684345882012-09-19T09:09:00.001-07:002012-09-27T18:45:32.480-07:00My Writing Arm: Poem of a proposed future<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This morning before I got out of bed,I got an urge to do something I don't believe I've ever wanted to do on my own. I wanted to visit a grave. Your grave. I've never wanted to visit any cemetery really because the dead rest there. Today was different. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wanted to go to your grave. Brush the dirt and grass from your name and read it. Feeling the cool sensation of your earthly title and years. I wanted to sit on the grass where you are and cry because you are so close and yet so far. How far I have no idea and that hurts a little more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I laid in bed weeping, I wondered how it could still hurt after almost 20 years. How I can still miss you with the few precious memories I've got. The thought crossed my mind if I could give my writing arm, not just my hand, my arm, it would probably be worth a prosthetic and learning lefty for a while to see you. </span><br />
<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://bearlymemories.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/preview-for-a-lifetime-of-love-and-beautiful-memories.jpg&sa=X&ei=7upZUK2CHc-LrQG50YCYAw&ved=0CAkQ8wc4swE&usg=AFQjCNHAcG2LQittTojFaKC8cu9Is9IFfw" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://bearlymemories.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/preview-for-a-lifetime-of-love-and-beautiful-memories.jpg&sa=X&ei=7upZUK2CHc-LrQG50YCYAw&ved=0CAkQ8wc4swE&usg=AFQjCNHAcG2LQittTojFaKC8cu9Is9IFfw" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">To have you show up at the door of my grandmother's house. Thanksgiving when all of us usually are there. You'd recognize me I think because my hair is the same as when you first saw me. An afro. Only I'm not so small and chubby with a green felt dress and shiny black baby shoes. And those socks with the lace. I'm big now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What did you call me? What would you call me? Rachelle or The Baby? Either one would do. You'd be speaking and I'd hear the sound of a voice forgotten. It would sound strange and I'd immediately find all to love in it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'd even sit on your lap like when I was small. Yeah, you'd bring your chair. And when you pulled the level I'd still laugh. Perhaps harder now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You'd see a medium small dog run up to you enthusiastically and probably ask why it isn't outside. And what's wrong with him when you put the dog out. He's too old not to know how to lift his leg when he pee's. Sandy,your older granddaughter, my cousin, would probably be the one to say, "Grandfather. That's Gigi. She's a girl and is more of a house dog." Then you would do what I know you did and don't really remember and call my grandmother.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"BIIIIILL!!" And we'd all laugh as you fussed about this girl dog and it not being outside where it belonged and what is a Gigi? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There would be children running around. More than you remember 20 years ago. And one of them isn't me. Two boys from Sandy and a girl and another girl on the way from Ramsey. Poor Dear Grandfather. You're probably wondering how they got it all wrong. Two girls can't carry on the Smith name. Then you'd love them anyway wouldn't you? Like you loved me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Perhaps wondering who the white kids really were. Yes, those are Sandy's. She's just always been light like this side of the family and the white man cooking delicious healthy food is her husband and we love them all. You may not understand it all. You'd love them anyway. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Then I'd tell you everything whether you understood it or not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My blog. <i>A what? Oh you're a writer huh?</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'm married. You'd wonder where your shot gun was.<i> Got rid of it? The b-b gun too? Damnit Bill. Not even a male dog that can lift it's leg. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He's a vegetarian and I've thought about it too.<i> A what? No meat? This 2012 stuff is pretty liberal.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And I'd even tell you about yoga and how it's changed my life. No I'm not a hippy.<i> Yoga? So you work out? You look good. </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can hear you wondering aloud about our clothes and the small bright things that make noise and everyone is touching all day. The great grandbaby's are playing and shouting and Grandmother uses a cane now. The house is almost a new thing but much is still the same. You built it with your own hands and of course your family still lives where they belong right? Your work is solid. You always knew it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The head of the table would be yours and Ramsey on the other. Grandmother and Mom to your flanks and me by mom. And I'd stare at you. What we expected, you wonder about this health food and why Sandy's husband, a man, did 99% of the cooking. You'd eat and maybe like it or not and you'd complain and fuss at my grandmother "Bill" and we'd laugh to crying and back again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Later after dinner while there are naps, walks, work and play, I'd touch your face. See how much I'd remember or forgotten and if the photos captured you right. I'd touch your salt and pepper hair because I'm curious about the texture. What did your eyes see in me then and what do they see now? Yes,the little girl is in there,but she's big now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Isn't she? Or am I always the baby? I don't care either way. Your flannel shirt is familiar. Your chair feels familiar and your arms have grown bigger and my hands much smaller. I'm resting in your lap in a felt dress with lace socks and shiny black shoes while we both breathe in the memory of then and now. Have they become the same? Are you proud? Do you love me Grandfather? Eyes open again and we smile. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now you have to go. Everyone hugs you. There's no time limit. I would go last, since I'm losing an arm but I can't deny the best for my Grandmother. I hug you softly. With strength. Shake with tears falling from confusion, sorrow and happiness. And I stare at your face. Etching you into my memory like the name and years on your grave. I'll remember the flannel. Your face, hair, eyes. Your smell. When you say you love me, The Baby, I'll rewind and replay however you say it until it's a part of my brain chemistry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You would hug your wife. Tell her she's doing pretty good, you guess, considering your not there. Do something about that dog or get another one too. You used to have a couple dogs at a time. You'd probably wonder how she's gotten on without a man. Mom too. Must be that 2012 thing. Not even a shot gun. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then we'd see your last facial expressions of confusion of what you'd come back to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Internet, cell phone, Vegetarian, Blog, girl dog, Yoga, mixed kids, no Smith boys. No shot gun. Mom's not married. The baby's not small, Bill lives half alone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then you'd smile, not minding what you didn't understand (as much) and be glad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ramsey has a wife and two great grandbaby girls, Sandy has a husband and two great grandbaby boys. Mom is doing well and your only living child, you'll see your son Jim when you got back. The girl dog's got a good bark. You'll give her that. Bill's always your Bill. She looks good in her old age. Got all her mind which you may not remember losing. You've got a solid wife. And my husband. A real and dedicated man. And me. The Baby. The writer and does/is a Yoga? She's a healthy and smart baby. With all that hair and the big smile. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You'd leave happy and with your last demands as the man in charge. We'd all laugh and nod and love you more than we can physically express. The same will go for you and the tears we show on the outside will fill up your inside, with your own, even though you don't say. We know. I know. You love us so much more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then I'd say good-bye to my arm. My writing hand. I'd be sad and take it to memory as the one I've gotten in trade for it. I got a great bargain I'd say. And I'd come to your grave again. And lay on the grass. You're so close and so far. I know how far you are away now. Never too far. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You can hear me can't you? My tears are filling you up so you'll never dry out. Our tears are our thoughts and love to you. You'll never dry out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'll write you again with my left hand or my new one. And you'll love it. Like you love me right? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Baby with the afro, green dress with lace socks and shiny shoes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I Love You. And you can hear me. I just don't know which wind or frequency to listen back for you on. I'll keep writing and trying to hear. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You love me too Grandfather don't you? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My memories, imagined into reality and lived into imagination say yes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>Love,</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>The Baby</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b><i>~WY</i></b></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-32891615257001338832012-09-17T11:40:00.000-07:002012-09-17T11:40:22.835-07:00Lesson From "Labyrinth" <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTIzNjYxMjIyNV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNTg2NjQyMQ@@._V1._SY317_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTIzNjYxMjIyNV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNTg2NjQyMQ@@._V1._SY317_.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Following your heart is not something you always recognize right away. Sometimes you have to be in the middle of it to understand that's what you're doing. You may have to be in the middle of whatever you are going through to realize, "There is a lesson here I'm supposed to learn."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lately my heart's been sending me a message through a simple repetitive thought. Not much detail to it like in <i>Labyrinth</i> with David Bowie and Jennifer Connelly. Sara, the heroine, was a young woman on a simple mission "I have to save my baby brother." That's the only thing she thought her journey was about and it ended up being so much more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There's not always need for the message to be in depth. The details will arise upon the onset of the adventure. You just have to know there's a trip that needs taking and get ready to go! I began to understand the repetitive thought was keeping time with my heartbeat. That's when I realized this was something I HAD to do. It was a journey I needed to take and I was afraid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This fear did not come from the adventure itself. I was afraid of where it would take me. More specifically, who it might take me away from. Not wanting to leave someone behind or have them feel left out or abandoned is hard to deal with. There is a line where Sara tells her new friends before the final face off, "I have to do this alone." When her friends ask why, she simply said, "Because that is how it's done." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes we need to do things alone. There is a adventure, fight, talk or whatever that needs to be done by ourselves. As much as we want to bring out loved ones, we can't because that's how it's done. If it's a journey specifically for you, <i>just because you have to take a major part of it alone, doesn't mean you can't come back with the other's when it's over. </i>That's when I started to feel a little better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the end of the movie, Sara's new friends tell her "Should you need us..." they will always be there. Her reply was "I need you. All of you". And there they were! Though she began her trek alone, met friends along the way, and had to finish the last stretch by herself again, that didn't mean she was forever severed from her new acquaintances. She began her journey for her baby brother, and ended up learning how to grow up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm learning that certain personal growth and change takes your own doing. You can't always bring everyone you want to come along. It may not be the trip they need to take (whether they want to come or not) and that's okay. I have a personal path that my heart has been beating for. I've finally listened to the rhythm and now I am preparing to go. It turns out, those I am leaving behind, for a brief while, are supportive and want me to experience what means so much to me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Listen to your hearts repetitive rhythmic words. Don't be afraid of what it's beating even if you have to leave for awhile. You can always come back to the ones you love. There's no need to stay away. Tell them where you are going, make your journey,and come back wiser and stronger than before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>Namaste my friends,</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>~Chelle aka Writer Yogi </i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-75579341381982470032012-09-16T06:49:00.001-07:002012-09-16T06:49:54.474-07:00Weekly Updates (September 16)<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In case you missed it! Here are links to my posts for my weekly updates.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDXkprkn6Yl5gyKPlNGpHx-3lFEV7Sz2RPXjvCH3FbUJ6GLhtlmLtPUyY4xMxsyenYWT4sRTEg3QSm5LW_yfv7urH_Qbj3IPRnNRMaOQCUO_tZolcZoOnjoTSpGhFmPbEft35xi_cGm1A/s1600/Ujjayi+Life+Weekly+Updates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDXkprkn6Yl5gyKPlNGpHx-3lFEV7Sz2RPXjvCH3FbUJ6GLhtlmLtPUyY4xMxsyenYWT4sRTEg3QSm5LW_yfv7urH_Qbj3IPRnNRMaOQCUO_tZolcZoOnjoTSpGhFmPbEft35xi_cGm1A/s320/Ujjayi+Life+Weekly+Updates.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/meatless-monday-fajitas.html">Meatless Monday: Fajitas </a>( 9/10):</b> Fajita's enough said! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/whats-in-name.html">What's In A Name?</a> (913):</b> My letter to Jennifer Pastiloff and why you should connect with her! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://www.rebellesociety.com/2012/09/13/the-body-hug/">The Body Hug</a> (9/13):</b> A poem on Rebellesociety.com about the closeness a certain forward fold brings. What pose speaks to you? </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Oh, my friend,</span></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
all that you see of me</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
is just a shell,</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
and the rest belongs to love.</div>
</span><b style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Rumi</b></div>
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<i>Namaste My Friends, </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>~WY</i></div>
</b>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-53915467959424292922012-09-13T18:55:00.000-07:002012-12-12T04:00:14.455-08:00What's In A Name?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Jen,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I noticed something about your last name. I feel it represents a lot about you. Read it slowly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pastiloff. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Did you get it? Here, I'll break it up Past-Il-Off.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The message I get is: Passed Ill Off. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's one of the main things you talk about. About shaking off the past negativity. The "shoulda, coulda, woulda" as you say. Learning from it and being fine it happened because you are no longer there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Everyone has flashbacks. Everyone looks back to where they were and spends some time looking around. The point is to not do it too often and to not stay there. Don't live where you don't belong.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You practice living in the moment. Moving forward. And only seem to go to the past to help others, and yourself if needed, with obtaining the greatest present and future! How brave is that? I can't even look at my journal from the past year, heck the past month! Even if it's all good news. You go back Years! You go into the jungle of past unpleasant experiences and cut the negativity of tangled vines with a machete. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Everyone has things in the past that they don't like to remember. We don't like that we wasted time with this, or didn't do that. You on the other hand, and I'm not sure many can, take the past, put in a jar, study it, and then present it in the world as something worth seeing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You stand as the Ringmaster on stage before the Circus. The Passed Ill Off Circus! We think it's going to be a show of other wonders, (but it's a reflection of the own show we need to put on for ourselves). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your past is on display. We arrive unaware on how this will effect us and are amazed</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> with glitter a unicorn and twinkling lights. We think it's going to be something we haven't seen before. A new wonder to take us away from where we have been. To stop thinking about it. Instead, your show of the history you lived somehow bleeds into our own. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We weren't expecting this. The crowd is wide eyed and perhaps slack jawed. It'</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">s a better surprise and wonder than we ever could have imagined! We didn't realize how much we needed a ticket to this show. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For those surprised and perhaps fearful, and those of us touched and heart swollen, we can hear you calling from the spotlight during a brief intermission. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>"Look at this hurt, this experience! Look at his hate and this love! This past me and perhaps a past you as well. Look at what you are manifesting now. This isn't just for me, it's for you too. Don't shy away. Be touched, dazzled, brought to tears or silence. Here is my past. You've got one too!"</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The show begins again. The audience sits still as you show us where you have been and where you're going. We are allowed to come along. It's interactive! No expectations, no certain ways things are supposed to be done. Only connection on the highest level and producing the most wonderful-filling manifestations. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who knew there could be so much good in where we've been? Even the parts that leave a sour taste on the tip of our tongue. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the end of the show, there's and invitation to come again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>"There it is. It's all there. Nothing to hide and everything to see. Heartbreaks and headaches. Loved ones and sticking to your guns. Holding yourself back and losing your track. New life creating and karaoke yoga gyrating. We are the combination of our past but we don't have to stay there. Passed Ill Off Circus! Whose ready to join me?!"</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All I know is, I'll forget about my ticket. I'm running away to join the circus! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">xoxo</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">~ Chelle aka Writer Yogi </span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-51881394828663519902012-09-10T05:51:00.001-07:002012-09-10T05:51:46.771-07:00Meatless Monday: Fajitas <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Welcome to another <a href="http://www.meatlessmonday.com/">Meatless Monday</a> Recipe!</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://dining.ucdavis.edu/images/MM-Logo.gif&sa=X&ei=NuJNUMXDIK-02AWO0IG4CA&ved=0CAoQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNF_6_beW9b1WT6535C-2olpHexT4w" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://dining.ucdavis.edu/images/MM-Logo.gif&sa=X&ei=NuJNUMXDIK-02AWO0IG4CA&ved=0CAoQ8wc&usg=AFQjCNF_6_beW9b1WT6535C-2olpHexT4w" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My husband and I decided Fajita's were what was going down! I do enjoy eating "south of the border". With the lovely cutting of yours truly and the seasoning and cooking of the Hubster, we got a yummy and pretty healthy I would say dinner! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was very simple really.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>1.</b> Cut up your veggies. We used, 1 green pepper. 4 mini sweet peppers, 1 onion</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>2.</b> Stir fry your veggies with vegetarian chicken strips. Add taco seasoning and spices to your liking.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5zHVqmElrWT_UQSj9nzZy8LHbmASV65ok7stkw9J5Y7WlAa-M5GWGaFRXSnc_qRfJLvDu87m9BRRxLIsvl8T8-I3-GgRTRtZ_IqIgkzcmiZX21n7nGj1Yz9huHaIKD5JrufXFXjitrE/s1600/IMAG0390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO5zHVqmElrWT_UQSj9nzZy8LHbmASV65ok7stkw9J5Y7WlAa-M5GWGaFRXSnc_qRfJLvDu87m9BRRxLIsvl8T8-I3-GgRTRtZ_IqIgkzcmiZX21n7nGj1Yz9huHaIKD5JrufXFXjitrE/s320/IMAG0390.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> <b>3.</b> Cut up one Avocado. You can mash it into a paste if you wish, or just scoop out and spread it onto a flour tortilla. Use as much avocado as you may wish. My husband doesn't like beans so I figured avocado would be a decent substitute. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>4.</b> Finish with a few "veggie toppers". Spinach, lettuce if you wish, and tomatoes. (Not all the garnishing is on this one. But you can imagine how yummy it is! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5WrTW90SDoO5Qgi60XbYBTng__f_hJ_dEWYUgGCgPgI0sprh3y55YaZNGBzSJ2vGMfVQqXZnNMkhbsN6FXBmzZ8ieiRidXhicxHnWdACOoE4OKpGMkB7Anvg_hQ5wn-QEWThDbRs6gw/s1600/IMAG0391.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ5WrTW90SDoO5Qgi60XbYBTng__f_hJ_dEWYUgGCgPgI0sprh3y55YaZNGBzSJ2vGMfVQqXZnNMkhbsN6FXBmzZ8ieiRidXhicxHnWdACOoE4OKpGMkB7Anvg_hQ5wn-QEWThDbRs6gw/s320/IMAG0391.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>5.</b> If not, here it is! Yummy! Enjoy! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggrYwQIPCGj-b7-cZDox1W1z3dh-X_tUXBVcTIcbLENB8Srah_gyyb7DNF0OTfGeUgQiileAWVIA6IAERGJCBT2OeqrI6JLKAvL8ptnetmCh65-ZUzdk4hEgDgQEMNhKQprlhjupz_WdI/s1600/IMAG0392.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggrYwQIPCGj-b7-cZDox1W1z3dh-X_tUXBVcTIcbLENB8Srah_gyyb7DNF0OTfGeUgQiileAWVIA6IAERGJCBT2OeqrI6JLKAvL8ptnetmCh65-ZUzdk4hEgDgQEMNhKQprlhjupz_WdI/s320/IMAG0392.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>Namaste all,</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>~Wy </i></b></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-91351958840595083632012-09-09T07:04:00.001-07:002012-09-09T17:52:53.353-07:00Weekly Updates: (September 9)<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Incase you missed it, here are the my weekly updates! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Links Below</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDXkprkn6Yl5gyKPlNGpHx-3lFEV7Sz2RPXjvCH3FbUJ6GLhtlmLtPUyY4xMxsyenYWT4sRTEg3QSm5LW_yfv7urH_Qbj3IPRnNRMaOQCUO_tZolcZoOnjoTSpGhFmPbEft35xi_cGm1A/s1600/Ujjayi+Life+Weekly+Updates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDXkprkn6Yl5gyKPlNGpHx-3lFEV7Sz2RPXjvCH3FbUJ6GLhtlmLtPUyY4xMxsyenYWT4sRTEg3QSm5LW_yfv7urH_Qbj3IPRnNRMaOQCUO_tZolcZoOnjoTSpGhFmPbEft35xi_cGm1A/s320/Ujjayi+Life+Weekly+Updates.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/life-lessons-from-don-quixote.html">Life Lessons from Don Quixote</a></b> <b>9/3</b> The story of a Mad Man. Or is he? (My second MindBodyGreen article!) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/meatless-monday-broccoli-stuffed.html">Meatless Monday: Broccoli Stuffed Tomatoes</a></b> <b>9/3</b> A Yummy Recipe! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/what-tears-are-these-true-story.html">What Tears Are These?: True Story</a></b> <b>9/4</b> I respect my body and my journey. What tears are these? It is because this has turned into a prayer? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/in-all-earnestness.html">In All Earnestness</a></b> <b>9/5</b> Be fine with the fact you know good and well you can't keep up and Modify the Heck out of it! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://ujjayilife.blogspot.com/2012/09/dear-fathers-of-mine-who-have-passed.html">Dear Father's Of Mine Who Have Passed</a></b> <b>9/8 </b>An unexpected letter and lesson in love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now here's a video to boost the spirits! I know it does mine! I hope everyone had a great week. Cheers to the new one! The Future is Ours! </span><br />
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://0.gvt0.com/vi/rDiUVS_-4_Q/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rDiUVS_-4_Q&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rDiUVS_-4_Q&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i>Namaste My Friends,</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><i> ~Chelle aka Writer Yogi </i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3356235263123382761.post-76334357375893589292012-09-08T07:39:00.000-07:002012-09-08T07:39:31.773-07:00Dear Father's of Mine Who Have Passed<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://i.istockimg.com/file_thumbview_approve/4686337/2/stock-photo-4686337-dear-dad-letter-head.jpg&sa=X&ei=97lKUJ6nOsiq2QXtyYGYDA&ved=0CAkQ8wc4Fw&usg=AFQjCNHn0cSRQWVWClAvbN3SljUdCm5x2Q" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" height="226" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://i.istockimg.com/file_thumbview_approve/4686337/2/stock-photo-4686337-dear-dad-letter-head.jpg&sa=X&ei=97lKUJ6nOsiq2QXtyYGYDA&ved=0CAkQ8wc4Fw&usg=AFQjCNHn0cSRQWVWClAvbN3SljUdCm5x2Q" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wrote this as a response to Jennifer Pastiloff's post asking for letters to someone alive or passed. It was part of one of her posts to encourage connection between everyone and have us share our stories. I put it in my blog as a draft, and I kept it for some time and I'm not sure why. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Perhaps because when I wrote it, I wasn't expecting what came out. Or I didn't realize that I was loved by three father figures in my life growing up in a single parent mother home and being around my friend's mothers. The dad's didn't influence us at all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After high school, I found out that without even knowing it, my definition of a dad was "That guy married to your friend's mom who doesn't really talk to us (or when he does it's just annoying) and that your mom doesn't really like". Something to that extent. Which when you look at it is pretty bad. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am sad about the short time I got to have with my fathers. I do wish I could have spent some of that time better. I can say that I am very fortunate to have had them at all. Three of them. I guess, in a way, her post made me realize, instead of having no father's in my life at all, throughout this first quarter of my life, I have had three. This lifts and saddens my heart at the same time. Regardless, I believe the joy will eventually outweight the sorrow if I look at it the right way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had three Father's in my life who loved me very much. Still something surprising and crazy to wrap my head around. <b>I suppose though, when it comes to love, that's all that really matters.</b> Here's my letter...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Dear Father's of Mine Who Have Passed,</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Grandfather, thank you for playing games with me in your big old leather chair. I remember the cool feel of the brown and the smooth cracks with fluff I'd stick my fingers in. I will never forget you reaching over to the side pulling a lever, saying I broke the chair as we reclined and me laughing wildly as I shout "I saw you!"</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Step Father Larry, thank you for loving my mother and letting her love you. You were the first man in my adult life to like me as a daughter. Growing up around mothers (and fathers that did nothing) I didn't understand it. I do still love you and I'm happy you loved me and my sister too.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Dad, I know we didn't know what do to with each other the first and only time we met. We didn't understand how one so old and one so young could meet on common ground. Thank you for telling my oldest brother, who you were very close to, how much you loved me. It means a lot.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>Namaste my Friends,</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>~WY</b></i></span><br />
<br />Writer Yogihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17139040682391594581noreply@blogger.com0