Sometimes @ Window Seat

Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I can move through a motion like pulling a curtain back in the morning and feel this awareness of young Erin, 8 year old Erin, who has grown.

Hard to put into words, this awareness feels like « oh so this is what happened ». There is a quality of wonder and appreciation. Like I am seeing who I wanted to be when I grew up and stepping into the power that it is, in fact, me.

In teaching these days, I try to provide a path to this feeling. Many times in my personal practice, my hand will find its way to rest on my rib cage or my one foot will tuck under the other and I’ll witness the other worldly way the body comforts and supports itself.

I believe it is in the moments in yoga when the body interacts with the body or when the breath guides the body into a pose (either through vinyasa or through restorative release) that doors open to connect with who you have always been.

When you witness your body and allow yourself to delight in things like « huh, this is how you like to stretch when you wake » or « how funny I always go to the right side first », you invite the same observatory appreciation to things like « I laugh like that when… » or to parts of your personality that are truly you; unmasked and unmade by others.

All the sudden, you trace your hand under the running faucet or you smooth the sheet in a way just so that you see yourself. Your movement, a constant paintbrush – your energy, a constant color.

I believe these things to be very, very true. As in these things, we come to a place of non violence – of grace – within ourselves. This place fruits compassion for others, an honor of limits and space for self study.

It’s in yoga, I find the heartiest season of advent: the expectation of peace, the surrender to goodwill, and the rest available in what we can imagine an unconditional, non judge mental love feels like.

The refuge.

The light.

Now it’s time to create

Prayer Life

I cried at work yesterday. Heavy sighs. Mental block. Exhaustion. In hindsight, though it was in the privacy of my basement studio, it was a childish reaction.

I’m sitting on my front steps. I moved a wreath of dried herbs and flowers to the hook on my 100 year old front door and it looks really nice. The plants all look good thanks to the rain and the sweet potato vine is literally reminding me of my best friend.

Birds. Morning. Ya know.

I just finished a 50 minute kundalini practice, complete with chanting Ek Ong Kar. It has been since May that I have taken the time to practice. The most interesting part of yoga to me is the inner dialogue. When you’re new to practicing, you acquaint yourself and become a witness. I believe this is the majority of the work.

When you have experience with yoga, you know this voice. For me, after not practicing for so long, I heard this pleading, scared, tired, voice. And I felt the relationship between this voice – ego – and my reaction to work.

Enter stage right, my prayer life.

It has been months since I have seen my prayer beads – actually well over a year. A string of beads I put together, each with a person or a theme. Work has a bead. Purpose and creativity has one. I taught workshops on putting together your list and then shopping beads to match.

People loved those workshops. They were rich and fun and interesting in their dialogue.


Last night, after a grueling day, Lucy came out to the front porch where Ellen and I were still sitting, digesting dinner.

“Why did you throw your prayer beads away?” She asked me. I was honestly perplexed. I sent her in to take care of the recycles and she came out curious about my prayer beads.

I was feeling loopy and off kilter from the day. What was she talking about.

Sure enough there they were in her hand. She showed me what she was doing, emptying a box of papers to be shredded and there they were at the bottom.

Crying at work is not who I am. I held the work bead and the creativity purpose bead in my hand and took a few deep breaths in before starting back at this puzzle. I worked until about 10 pm and shrugged at my attempt. Curious to move on.

I am finding myself aware of my tools and feeling a proverbial slap in the face to wake up and remember gifts and poise and breath. I am glad for the very real experience of struggling with yourself on the mat so that others don’t have to struggle with you unnecessarily.

Gotta keep my energetic self clean. Cared for.

Hot water with lemon.

Morning yoga.

Prayer Life.



What It’s Like to Be Married @ Last Day in Bellingham w/ All 5 Kids 7.10.20

When people say “pretty much the same” in response to the question “how is married life?” or “what is it like to be married?” I understand what that means. For me, however, I am married (for the second time in my life) and my answer to this question is really super freaking simple:


It’s good to be married.

When David and I first started dating (when we first started falling in love, actually – as undeniably these were simultaneous), I wrote a song called “I Choose You”.

The premise of the song is also really super simple: I wish you would tell me you love and never will leave me BUT I’m grown enough to realize a) you may be figuring that out still and b) you might choose to leave so – in the meantime – I will meditate on the fact that (no matter what the future holds) you choose me now and – *more importantly to those early days in relationships* I choose you now, equally.

Married life is good because it is the trustworthy fruition of that early “freedom to discover”. We are married not because I asked him to promise me something or led him to trust me first while he figured it out. Or because I unabashedly threw myself at the chance of love and acceptance without the mission critical work of loving and accepting myself in order to *then* throw myself at love.

We are married because not only did we choose each other to get to know, we chose to continually choose each other and get to know each other.

I chose to continue to choose David even when my most critical thoughts are present.

I chose to continue to choose David because he is so handsome and makes me laugh and allows me my me-ness when I clean, don’t clean, cook, don’t cook, and watch Avengers movies. He allows me to ask for “what happens next” equal to how he allows himself to not get annoyed, pat my leg and say “just watch.”

We navigated getting to know each other with equal parts curiosity and self containment. We were both interested and selfish. Both open minded and aware of our root values. Both. And. Both. And.

This is Union. This is Yoga. This is Marriage.

Being married is good. :)


This picture is my favorite and makes me SO excited to get our next round of pics of our super causal PNW COVID wedding!