The Working Yogini

  I will admit, I have been a bit reluctant crafting wistful thoughts and sharing them, as there has been a looming lack of creativity… this during a time where we have moments of isolation to “work on ourselves.” However, out of this involuntary reflection, I have been developing allowance of just letting things be. That freedom from expectation opened the thought floodgates, “After all of this, as the beginning of something inevitably has an end… how will we all be as a humanity? Will we go back to how we were living with an altered process of doing things? Will we remember how to do the ‘normal’ things? Will we learn to maintain kindness? Will we utilize the lessons learned during this time to infer how we communicate and treat others? Will ‘we’ ever be we again?”          Thoughts transformed into a considerative (yes, I make up words) journey of how humanitarianism has gone through cycles of advancement – or supposedly. Whenever we are shocked to our core, it seems that some lev

It was once said, “A yogi measures the span of life by the number of breaths, not by the number of years...” ~ Swami Sivananda. Time seems to have an opportune way of letting us know that relationships and circumstances tend to be temporary and at the peak of its chaotic perfection in the moment. But... the Universe has an auspicious way of reminding us that what we are going through, what we are doing, and who we meet along the way is part of plan. I contemplate often on the current state ( avastha ) of existence, and wonder if everything we say and do is recorded in some cosmic ledger and balanced out with its appropriate counterpart to ensure we are in harmony with the Universe. And the tabulation of every, thought, word, action, habit is measured and vetted throughout the lifetime to allow the vessel to be at its optimal level. Perhaps, I might be leaning into it just a bit much, because it could also be as simple as, we are here, then we are not. And in choosing to abide to