Truth and Foundation : Sutra 1.41

My Mantra For the next few months as I try to figure things out 

"Truth and Foundation". 

birthwithoutfearblog.com

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.

In the Yoga Sutras 1.41 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 "devoid differentiation between knower, knowable and knowledge". Your thoughts will be all three.

It also states "When you cultivate one alone [referring to thought], all the other impressions become weaker and finer" 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. 

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.

Do you have an end of the year Mantra? What is it?

Namaste with Love,

Chelle aka Writer Yogi 

Zombies: Walking Rigamortis

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 circus 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.

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).

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 Not Ashtanga 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. 

wpclipart.com

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 Not however have any desire to eat human flesh. You're good. 

 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. 

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. 

 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 shelving after a brief sneezing fit. 

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. 

from merch-bot.com

There is hope! Ah-ha-ha yes my dear friends! 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! 

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*)

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! Life is about Fun, not work and Damnit that is what it shall be. Well, one day.

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). 

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. Starve all the bad out. Start dying. Just enough to regain my mind and be brought back to who I really am.

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.

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. 

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.

So here goes to the self cure.

Namaste with love,

~Chelle aka Writer Yogi

Jennifer Pastiloff Day: Manifestation!

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; Dreaming in Paris and What's in a Name?  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! 

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! 

Here is a short bio about Jennifer Pastiloff from mindbodygreen.com: 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 Manifestation Station. Find her at JenniferPastiloff.com and on Facebook and Twitter. 

Jen will be leading a Manifestation Yoga®  weekend retreat at Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health in the Berkshires, Massachusetts Feb 1-3, 2013. And find her other retreats at The Travel Yogi and her online classes at YogisAnonymous

Her blog: The Manifest -Station: Where you can read her inspirational writing, and find links to retreats, interviews, videos, and More! 


She is a Wellness Expert on Mindbodygreen.com : HERE is a link to her articles she writes regularly for them! 

You can also find her on FACEBOOK and TWITTER! 

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 Karaoke Yoga!  Yes,you read that right. Rocking out and Yoga combined! 

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! 
~Chelle aka Writer Yogi 

Weekly Updates (October 9)

In case you missed it, here are my weekly updates!

Body Talk: Yoga makes a mouth of it to share my truth.Free as a baby’s imagination. Let its flexing tell my story without ink...more Here 

Nursery Yoga: Circles and Squares: 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 Here

Medusa's Eye's: Being paralyzed by fear: “Do not look directly at it!” are the shouts you can hear from a gang of warriors attempting to slay the monster Medusa.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.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 Here 

Yogic Prayer: 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 Here

Yogic Prayer

I did a google search "yogic prayer" and this is an image I got. 

"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

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. 

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.

Truth. 

~Writer Yogi
(Chelle) 

Nursery Yoga: Circles and Squares

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, Sharon Pingitore, read an article I wrote, The Yoga Diaries: Sweat & Spirituality, 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.

This brought up the classic question. Who am I? The answer I got was "I am what I do". I do  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.

It brings up the claustrophobic feeling I have had for the past week and into this one. I do 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, but trying to fit something into the wrong space. 

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! 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! 

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.

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!

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. 

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.

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?" 

Wrong. You can, 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, You can do what you love even if you are not rich and famous. Something I feel is a message that lacks advertisement.

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! 

~Writer Yogi
with love, namaste 

Body Talk (Poem)

image from ashtangayogameditation.blogspot.com

Yoga makes a mouth of it to share my truth.

Free as a baby’s imagination

Let its flexing tell my story without ink.

As reaching fingers in a sun salutation grab at air

Forming my intention.

My most back (bending) and forward (folding)

Negativity sweats out of my pores.

In Warrior I my thighs yawn widely the details.

Without practice, my tongue is still as a lost child in a great cave.

What really comes of a mouth that hangs open and shut

As a broken door on well-oiled hinges?

Ah, how the heart unfurls like secret flowers.

What passion it expels

As the body begins to feel wispy in a vinyasa ballet.

By savasana, there’s no need for verbal words.

The body has said it all. 

Weekly Updates (September 23)

In case you missed it. Here are my links from my blog and my other writing homes. 
As always, thanks for reading! 

Lessons from Labyrinth (9/17):  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.

To Grandfather, From The Baby (9/19): 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. 

"Practice and All Is Coming" via Rebelle Society (9/20): 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.

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. :)  

Namaste My Friends, 

Chelle aka Writer Yogi 

My Writing Arm: Poem of a proposed future

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. 

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. 

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. 


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. 

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. 

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. 

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."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?  

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. 

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. 

Then I'd tell you everything whether you understood it or not.
My blog. A what? Oh you're a writer huh?
I'm married. You'd wonder where your shot gun was. Got rid of it? The b-b gun too? Damnit Bill. Not even a male dog that can lift it's leg. 
He's a vegetarian and I've thought about it too. A what? No meat? This 2012 stuff is pretty liberal.
And I'd even tell you about yoga and how it's changed my life. No I'm not a hippy. Yoga? So you work out? You look good. 

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. 

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.

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

Then we'd see your last facial expressions of confusion of what you'd come back to.

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. 

Then you'd smile, not minding what you didn't understand (as much) and be glad. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

I'll write you again with my left hand or  my new one. And you'll love it. Like you love me right? 

The Baby with the afro, green dress with lace socks and shiny shoes. 

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. 

You love me too Grandfather don't you? 

My memories, imagined into reality and lived into imagination say yes. 

Love,

The Baby



~WY

Lesson From "Labyrinth"

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."

Lately my heart's been sending me a message through a simple repetitive thought. Not much detail to it like in Labyrinth 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.

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.

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." 

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, 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. That's when I started to feel a little better.

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.

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. 

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. 

Namaste my friends,

~Chelle aka Writer Yogi