When I left San Diego to move to the tiny, truck-stop-town Mojave, people thought I was crazy.
But my friends? They knew it was love.
Only love would pull me away from my hometown, my family and the vibrant yoga community in which I was so heavily involved.
There was never a doubt. We both knew, almost from the start, that this was that kind of relationship. The kind that helps you be more of who you are, that lifts you up, but also holds you accountable and calls you on your shit.
Way before that, though, I had to create that kind of relationship with myself. I had to trust myself. I needed to accept myself. And more than anything, I wanted to love myself.
But this—the loving myself—would be the hardest yoga I ever did.
Unconditional love means showing up regularly to stare your demons in the face. It means staying right there with yourself when those demons rage and telling yourself, “I’m right here for you. No matter how hard or crazy it gets, I’m not going anywhere.”
This is the kind of yoga I do.
My yoga is the kind of tough love that asks, “Are you really happy?”
It’s not a militant or “something’s wrong with you” kind of yoga. It’s a yoga that helps you see your own strength, believe in yourself and rise up through the mud to live your best life. It’s the kind of yoga that teaches you how to hold a handstand or do a dropback, not because it looks cool (though it does), but because it teaches you to be resilient, know your strength, and helps you come alive.
Before I could ever have found the kind of relationship that would make me walk away from a twelve year, successful yoga teaching career to move to a town where there
is was zero yoga, I had to do this.
Because the answer to that question had been, “No.”
At the lowest, I was in a relationship with an alcoholic who I loved (and will always love) dearly, was watching my mother experience, and then die from, her fifth round of cancer, while simultaneously trying to heal a slipped disc in my neck.
I knew if I could get out of pain, heal myself and live a happier life, other people could too.
That was the motivation to start writing and share what I’ve learned with the world.
I built a website, started this blog, and got married. I brought yoga to the space cowboys (including my husband, Aaron) who build prototype airplanes in Mojave.
Aaron picked up his camera, and together, we’ve amassed a growing collection of images. We built a photo studio in our house with cardboard and tin foil. (I’m not kidding!)
And now four of my books are live. The one pictured here came out of my own healing journey with my neck.
But I’m really excited about my next book, currently titled Healing With Yoga.
This is the book that tells the story of yoga.
Not my story, but the story of how you can use yoga to answer those hard questions in your own life. It’s the story of how mind and body work together to create a life of wholeness and health. It will include postural tips, practical advice based out of yoga philosophy and exercises for both on and off the mat to help you love and trust yourself unconditionally, too.
It’s a slow process for me, this writing. Like the process of healing, it takes its own time and its own course, but it wants to be said. And I’m committed to providing a beautiful, inspirational resource for all of us to turn to when we feel lost or alone.
You being here is no accident. It means you’re doing the work of making the world a better place in your own unique way. And it means you are ready to live your yoga…
Thank you for joining our community!