Truly, phlegm is the No. 1 enemy in our system.
Not so long ago, my neighbor in Bangalore died because of a mosquito bite. She caught dengue fever and, in less than three days, she was dead, leaving behind two teenage children and a husband.
Four months later, her 16-year-old daughter came to me and requested Yoga classes to lose weight. She was very overweight.
And my work started.
I taught her no Yoga at our first session. Instead, I explained to her the real cause of her mother’s death. I told her how it was phlegm, and not dengue fever, that killed her.
The intestinal tract and the bile in the stomach simply refuse to absorb something that will not nourish the body, let alone the mind. The intestinal tract is eight meters long, and has many small buds, which are responsible for the absorption of nutrients in to the system.
Whatever cannot be absorbed is expelled out of...
"When life knocks you down, try to land on your back, because if you can look up, you can get up," says Les Brown. If the tears parade down your cheeks and the pain is too much to endure, "Don't cry to give up. Cry to keep going," as Eric Thomas advises.
We don't have to ever really grow up. Society tells us we should. But I say we shouldn't. I say we should always stay amazed by life, always be grateful for the small, simple things. For sunshine, for friendships, for beauty, for music, for nature and to move our bodies and stretch our imaginations.
Dreams of the end of the world -- the intricacies of which rivaled any apocalyptic blockbusters of Hollywood. From a very young age, we were prepped; warned that we might be split up from our family, tortured and tested.
I smile and close my eyes, imagining the wind is salty, fresh and reeking of a place beyond America’s shores, and that the crunching below my feet is not broken glass but shell shards, rocks and endless grains of sand.
And that was sort of what her therapist was saying, now, that people were already talking, don’t give them all the gory details of the downfall. Fall apart in private. Go into hiding. Like a big fat depressed bear for winter. See who she was in the spring.
Is there any greater cliché than the ability a caterpillar has to transform into a butterfly? Is there anything more fundamentally magical in the natural world? When the caterpillar is in a cocoon, its entire body basically turns into a jello-like substance, utterly disintegrating so it can re-crystallize into something wholly new. I can't help but think the caterpillar has no idea what he is getting into when he wraps himself so tight, frozen as his body parts dissolve at their seams.
Learning to listen to the messages of our emotional, mental and physical body helps us to stay in better contact with our intuition. This makes us see and choose only what keeps us healthy, happy and vital.
This beginning that I have worked hard for is only a beginning. It is a desire that grew within me and longed to be made manifest. Of course it is still an unended question. It is as new as the first sentence on a rough draft that is going nowhere -- just a tumble of thoughts longing to find shape and form.
The amount of energy I have wasted chasing the culturally perfect body angers me now. I'm furious that being a beautiful woman of a certain age isn't enough. That my grace isn't enough, my wisdom isn't enough. But it really is. My body is mine alone; it doesn't belong to the culture. Your body is yours and it is an amazing creation of spirit.
Anger, sometimes disguised as fear, presses against my emotional dam with a little too much force, and I just give way. Never thought of myself as someone with anger management issues. Just a perfectly imperfect person. I love the Dalai Lama's reply to the question, "Do you ever feel angry or outraged?" He said, "Oh, yes, of course. I'm a human being. Generally speaking, if a human being never shows anger, then I think something's wrong. He's not right in the brain," then he laughs.
To control the breathing is to control the mind. With different patterns of breathing, you can fall in love, you can hate someone, you can feel the whole spectrum of feelings just by changing your breathing.
When the moon is full and radiant, the song she pulls out of us might go something like this: The Wild in us wants out as if stirred from a sleep, out of deep lava flows, from the throes of core to uproar, and soar with supernovas in a cosmic union. Alchemic, poetic -- magnifying in full bloom, the full moon pours forth heart-source Divinity: a luminous light-fire creation flame.
Detox lasts four or five days. The day before I was to be discharged, a social worker visited me and this time I was wise enough to agree to accept additional help after I left. I signed up for an intensive outpatient rehab center located near where I was living.
Now that I'm off the treadmill, I want to focus on how much I love this aspect of my existence here on earth -- how I can support it and how I can nurture it so that my soul has the freedom to sing the song that it's meant to sing? I desire that my soul and my body work together as a team because while I'm a spiritual being having a human experience, part of that experience is my body.
As the Earth's super technology flows through the river of humans and life as a whole, we will step into the shoes of monumental consciousness. We can find our true nature by organizing our thoughts in an ideal manner.
I believe in minimalism and simplicity. I like getting rid of waste. I think that eliminating the inessential is one of the best ways to make life easier, make good habits more automatic, and make you grateful for what you do have.
Over the last new moon cycle, every single goddamned demon I thought I had faced reared its gruesome head to remind me that nope, they're still very much there. As diligently as I've been working to fight them, I've been putting just as much energy into ignoring them.
The heart of the business leader and consumer must be opened; transparency is trust. This stream of consciousness eliminates the greed is good faulty business model of the twentieth-century, and opens the door to the age of creativity in a profound way.
What is pain? Why do we fear letting go? And what exactly are we fighting against in preventing death? Please ask these questions, help us answer and share them, and also extend your intelligence, respectful thoughtfulness and compassion in your inquiry. Everyone deserves your kindness.
“As you navigate through the rest of your life, be open to collaboration. Other people and other people’s ideas are often better than your own. Find a group of people who challenge and inspire you, spend a lot of time with them, and it will change your life.” —Amy Poehler
Why not get your tribe together and publish something you all love?
It’s easier than you imagine, especially with a lot of us taking the courageous route of self-publishing. Hey, we put together Rebelle Society’s Vol I — Celebrating the Art of Being Alive in less than two months — and it turned out marvelous, and we learned a ton about ourselves and the process.
This and for many other reasons is why I wanted to chit-chat with, Jeannie Page, the self-published author of The Yoga Diaries: Stories of Transformation Through Yoga.
What inspired you to put this compilation...
When the education of self fails, people turn to religion. When religion fails, we turn to law. Through one we turn humans into criminals, and the other into sinners. The evidence that both are archaic, and ineffectual, is in the fact that neither one seeks to reform, but rather punish. Religion and law give us a sense of safety and knowing. They offer inflexible morals, ethics, and rituals that control through the guise of liberation. Religion is the champion of fear and reason, but the enemy of logic. In fact, it renounces logic as counterproductive to the process of faith and devotion. Religion asks of us a devotion to a deity, a duty to ritual, and a blind trust in the accuracy and experience of someone else's story. Self-inquiry requires no such convention. You sit. You see. You learn. I theorize, if it were proven that there was no afterlife whatsoever, and all humans accepted this, there would be no use for god or religion at all. What purpose would either serve if they were not there to provide some sense of future knowing, emotional comfort, or moral imperative? People would simply understand and accept that they have a very limited time in which to live. The promise of reward, and or punishment, would no longer be a useful tool for social control. In fact, people might even live with more urgency towards love and kindness, knowing that there are no second chances.
The Dark Goddess is on the rise. This is her time of the year as She devours the light until the rebirth at Winter Solstice.
It is the Dark Mother who re-emerges in the collective psyche to heal the separation of body and spirit.
She comes in many faces and forms: Persephone, Isis, Black Madonna, Kali, Durga, Tara, Hecate, Morrighan, Magdalene, Lilith, the black soils of the earth and the black night of the midnight sky.
She devours false perception and swallows separation to free us from our own belief that we are anything other than Love.
I grew up in a loving environment. I grew up in a family that loved God. Simultaneously I was afraid of God because I might not get it right, this thing about being human. As I grew into my sexuality, it was a whirlwind of self-hate and fear because I naturally desired sex but it was a sin.
I turned away from God as the all-governing...
I have a habit of building someone up in my mind to the point of dehumanization. They are no longer a human being capable of faults and mistakes. They become a magical creature that has captivated my attention.
I never thought I was trying to change you.
I suppose some part of me knew
that your love was a half-assed poem
shoved in the back pocket
of the pants you purchased
when you were still trying to impress me.
But I am still trying to impress you.
I am still forcing you into poems
like microscopes, hoping I can find something
in the seventeen thousand four hundred and twenty seven seconds
you have spent staring at me,
other than everything you wanted me to be
that I never was.
I suppose the goddess inside
of me was tired of being ignored.
By Terri DeMontrond
Being human and mortal, we all live, love and experience loss… no exceptions.
Are there redemptive qualities for the deepest of losses? This is the story of me and my daughter Misty, and how I didn’t get to say goodbye before she died. Today I try to live my life as if there may be no time for goodbyes.
“Bye honey, I love you!”
“Bye Momma, I love you more!!”
For many years this was our parting routine after a visit, or signing off from a phone call, text, or Facebook message — sometimes multiple times a day. It was Misty’s favorite way to end our conversations, and I adored that even at 35 years old, she still called me Momma with a loving, slightly southern lilt.
On August 1, 2012, my big-hearted, beloved, 35-year-old daughter ended her life.
On that day, and for days, weeks, months after… I...
She stopped thinking about falling. She stopped thinking about panic attacks and fear and worry and falling into that pit that could just appear in the middle of the sidewalk and suck her in any day, any time, any season.
Contrary to popular belief, Instagram is not just about cat photos, selfies,and reminders of what people ate for dinner. It's an interactive library, a buzzing network of creativity, and there are many talented writers who use Instagram as a beautiful means of self-expression, transforming the medium into a veritable smorgasbord of inspiration, profundity, and awesome.
When James was leaving her so easily, like a shirt he had grown tired of, an old friend from her early days at 'Rolling Stone' had said, "I think, to be the kind of woman someone fights for, you have to be the kind of woman who fights for herself."
I am self-respect.
I am courage.
I am experience.
I am new opportunity.
I am blunt honesty,
learning and truth.
I am the reason.
I am the outcast,
and I am deep contemplation.
I strip away the bullshit
and I am life in it’s real, raw glory.
I am the wild, and the ancient.
Then I remind that all of it is you.
My wish is that you live as the blessing that you are and that you see the gift you were born to be; that you use your voice to speak your truth, to share your story, and to sow the seeds of your unique soul wisdom. I want you to take a chance on yourself.
My badge at the facility has been pulled for practicing certain Yoga poses. After all, there is a very real resistance in the world that operates in opposition to light. Its energy is much stronger in the prison environment.
Now it is time to allow the true adventure to live and to meet my destiny head-on. So my plan is going through the ceiling instead of wasting any more time with those walls to embrace the plan I know and releasing the need to struggle.
What would happen if you could put aside your fear for one day? One hour? Be drawn by the connections that come, feed that place of intrinsic love and let it be your guide... surrender to the unknowable order of things.
Not being on the right frequency,
I had to look inside of me.
The vibrations I was sending out,
Did not match that which I was intentional about.
I wanted these things, but my thoughts you see,
Were the ones that were blocking me.
I have decided to join a sailing expedition, together with another 13 women coming from different fields and life experiences, to cross the Atlantic Ocean and 'make the unseen seen'. That is, from the toxics in our bodies to the toxics in our seas. We call it eXXpedition and we set sail on Nov 16.
Menopause can be natural, premature (occurring before the age of forty) or surgically induced. It may occur quickly or take several years. Smoking cigarettes, illness, and genetic tendencies can bring menopause on earlier. Men also experience a type of menopause known as viropause or andropause.
I wish that you would, once more, be able to sing your mellifluous and gentle melody. Those unsure and lonely notes are drowned out by the powerful and furious ostinato of guilt, and you become lost in a symphony of pain. A thick and heavy motif also combines with an opera of grief.
Yes, you can spend your days creating art and poetry. No, you cannot solve all the world’s problems today even if you tried; but you can brighten someone’s day and make their journey more beautiful. Perhaps that is the real meaning of life?
We all have a huge depth of layers -- a mystery beneath whatever labels we find ourselves in. This mystery is awful if you really think about it. Awful in the awe-inspiring, deep, profound way. But awful in a terrifying way too.
As a trained first responder, he will be fully equipped to handle whatever hot mess you have gotten yourself into. Don't be afraid to show him your freshly mangled heart. Without a hint of judgment he will touch your cold clammy skin, kiss your blue lips, and fearlessly witness the look of shock in your eyes. Remember, he has seen it all.
You have a million and one other voices in your head telling you what you need, what you should have done, and what the next step should be. Way back in the recesses of your mind there stands a faint image on the horizon. That specter is who you do not want to disappoint in your walk of life.
In seeking freedom, the dominator became the submissive, and while at times there was rebellion, overwhelmingly, I found peace in allowing a wiser force to take a hold of my body, emotions, mind and beyond.
It's perfectly okay to feel angry, upset, frustrated, worried, stressed, hurt, unhappy, desperate, scared, afraid and unsure. It’s okay to cry and stare up at the ceiling. It’s okay to want to crawl under the covers and stay there.