Eve Realized


These are the new days, as opposed

Old day stomping grounds translucent

Smoothed over hieroglyphics casting memories asunder

The moss upturned in the garden scattering relics from within.


There’s Rosa and Gloria and Betty and Diana, standing

Horizon glimmering with fresh graves

Outliers all of us gathering, inevitably

Dionysia descendants, wail-free.


Witchy outcomes need not apply

And yet the Fates predestine; spinning, allotting, unturnable

Life’s beginning and end presupposing a juicy middle

Poised as such on the quivering thread.


Before the battle beguilement sets in

Apropos of nothing

Blood smeared, smacked, kismet abounds

No shelter is there, here.


Pink robed inheritors freshly tinged, en masse

Uploading mega-byted courage

Shimmery with virtual strength, conquering

Scoping out prisoners, pre- slaughter.


There is pleasure in the doing

And strength, irrepressibly joyful

Sex ribboning out, endlessly twirling

Hands held to the light, after darkness.


Witnesses to the communion, sharing breaths

Delighting in the sweet expansive inhale

Softening softly on the unknowable exhale

In between shared spirits floating, endlessly.  (Endlessly in-between shared spirits, floating)


Destiny made, one battle at a time

Awash in incandescent freshness, anew

There is beauty here, encircling the circle

Infinity, always curious, laughs.



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I’m normally luckily lazy on Sundays, like lie around in my p.j’s all day kind of lazy, like don’t answer the phone because talking is too much effort lazy, like letting Bevie bring me breakfast on a tray lazy; lusciously lazy, loving it. But this Sunday, out of the house, hatted, scarfed and gloved,  heading towards a nook and cranny place called Hyland Hills to meet a friend and learn about the power of connection, unconditional love of Self, and what it’s like to do something that the world would tell you was impossible.


In my line of life I am quite fortunate to often be offered the invitation to see what is not easily seen, to intend toward the offering and yoke. The Yoga Sutra goes: “Atha Yoga anushasanam,” Now the practice of yoga begins. And on this slippery slope,  I suddenly realize that the day that I have planned is not necessarily the day that I get, or, in fact, oftentimes the day that I imagine is never as good as the day that I get or, put simply, to stay in the moment and believe in the magic of what reveals is so much more awesome than anything I could ever hope to get. Such is this particular Sunday and the sweet, surprising, succulent gift that I was given. It’s powerful and humbling, tender and magnificent, ananda-making, light-filled, and felt a hell of a lot like True freedom.

Thank you Karyl and The Courage Kenny Rehabilitation Institute!


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On Being Powerful: 1/19/18



It’s 2:35 pm on 494 and I haven’t had to fight the traffic. I’m flitting through possibilities, diving into the treasure chest, open to the encounter, reminding my dashboard, out loud that my job is not to come up with answers, but to be there for the questions; open, vulnerable, wordless even. For me, always a challenge.

I’m remembering a Bob Marley quote, surprisingly: “Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.” As I pull into the parking lot, I’m softening into the former, rejecting the messiness of the latter, when suddenly the force of Self hits me so hard that I wait for a moment and relinquish myself to myself, realizing quite suddenly that the only thing that matters in this deliciousness is how much I allow and how much I give. I’m floating, pink lipstick perfectly applied, unabashedly awash in a feeling so pure, alight within the gift I realize, once again, I am quite humbly the facilitator, hoping against hope for a downpour.

And today, without coincidence, my 3:00 client, a woman I have come to know and love and nurture pretty well, is the perfect recipient. So I tell her, somewhere between hip/strap and legs up the wall: “I see you as you truly are; unzipped, unraveled, unstuck. Let your journey be from here to here. There is nothing you need to become, there is only that which you already are; truly limitless, joyful, peaceful and free. Accept the invitation to step once again into your own magnificence.” And in this fierce, ferociously unfathomable power of the giving, we are both complete.








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I’m hanging out inside the chapel at Minnetonka Shores, grounding myself before class in the reflected rainbow light streaming  through the triptych of stained glass windows. It creates this funky, fractured, fuzzy mosaic on a floor I know well. I step inside, a weekly baptism of sorts, closing my eyes, breathing deeply, co-inhering with unknown promise. It’s like winning the peace lottery or being able to look someone who’s really hurt me in the eye and see their woundedness rather than my own, (forgiveness, I’m guessing). Or, orgasming my way through a great slice of pizza, or three.

It’s how I roll now, in the moment, accepting these small ritualized gifts of contentment such as they are, aware that their beguiling elusiveness is part of the process; slippery, serendipitous, surprising.  I’ve come a long way….

In comes Marlene, wheel-chaired, latest brittle broken bone, her arm, casted and wrapped to match her silver lame outfit. She’s followed by Sue who reminds me once again that she never misses class, a truth I can’t deny. Doris, 94, disappointed that arthritis has suddenly shown up in her right shoulder. Sweet Marilyn, on-time and apologizing for being late. Carol 1 and 2, beautiful, smiling, walkers in tow. Jon, fairly new, sits in the back, alone, younger than me, bewildered.  Paul who jumped out of airplanes in World War 2. “You are braver than I could ever be.” He smiles and let’s his daughter Peg speak for him…as usual.

This is the crew that I encounter today, carry with me now, wrap around me like a cloak of invincibility as I bare myself out into the universe as me, as I am, unadorned, abiding in the power of my own life revealing itself, moment by moment by moment by moment. “Right”, I say, “let’s begin.”

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I would never have gotten this far without all of you (definitely not definitive or complete, in no particular order of preference, intuitive leaps):

  1. Beth
  2. Sasha
  3. G
  4. Seb
  5. Dyl
  6. Bevie
  7. Nicole
  8. Robyn
  9. Karen
  10. Danielle
  11. Renee
  12. Georgie
  13. Mimi
  14. George
  15. Dave
  16. Danny
  17. Blake
  18. Michelene
  19. Heather
  20. Linda
  21. Jennifer
  22. Annie
  23. Shelley
  24. Nancy
  25. Susan
  26. Judy
  27. John
  28. Jerry
  29. James
  30. Mary
  31. Laurie
  32. Dixie
  33. Patty
  34. Ken
  35. Chris
  36. Kelly
  37. Sam
  38. Will
  39. Colleen
  40. Cindy
  41. Doris
  42. Marilyn
  43. Sue
  44. Ginny
  45. Carol
  46. Marlene
  47. Norma
  48. Jill
  49. Janice
  50. Patty
  51. Betty
  52. Mary Ann
  53. Shirley
  54. Carol
  55. Dale
  56. Judy
  57. Maxine
  58. Laura
  59. Barb 1
  60. Barb 2
  61. Tommy
  62. Deann
  63. Kristyn
  64. Peg
  65. Wayne
  66. Sara
  67. Lisa
  68. Heather
  69. Dawn
  70. Theresa
  71. Annie
  72. Bob Bob
  73. Aunt Barb
  74. Jamie
  75. Deb
  76. Jan
  77. Tiffany
  78. Gerree
  79. Cathy
  80. Jackie
  81. Darlene
  82. Margo
  83. Dana
  84. Joe
  85. Leah
  86. Elizabeth 1
  87. Elizabeth 2
  88. Elizabeth 3
  89. Helen
  90. Maria
  91. Joseph
  92. Sally
  93. Lillian
  94. Paula
  95. Kate
  96. Lisa
  97. Yasmeen
  98. Mary 2
  99. Noreen
  100. Mary Kay
  101. Elaine
  102. Julie
  103. Everyone Else….
  104. And ME!
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gratitude 4:16:16

(Photo courtesy of my beautiful friend and yoga colleague, Noelle Farmer)

It’s Samskara Saturday and we have arrived at anahata, the heart. I have been awake since 5:40 am for a 10:30 am start time playing over scenarios for upholding and uplifting that will best radiate the ferocity of connecting and belonging so integral to this session. Around 7:00 am I arrive at the starting line of an idea that I hope will work, sear the intention into the heart, inspire expansion.

At 8:00 am I surrender and shower.

I am reminded of so many times I have been here before, poised on the edge of control and trust, not knowing, wanting to believe in uncertainty, but over-thinking and trying not to listen to the chatter in my head. I have a tendency to lean into self-diminishment when I feel under pressure. I decide to eat last night’s leftovers as breakfast instead.

Life is never as austere as I imagine it. I am beginning, thank God, to take myself less seriously.

The truth is, I know what I am doing. And these whiffs of inspiration that arrive with the sunrise are gifts from the universe that lighten my journey and enhance my offerings to others. I’m grateful for them, as I am for the light, within and without, my beautiful students, so eager to experience, so willing to go there, bravely inclining toward a truth and a connection they have yet to know.

It’s 1:00 pm, I’m putting the crystallized ginger back into the plastic bag, reflecting, wondering, inviting nuance where none is necessary. Who knew partner yoga with instructed assists, modified with a chair, as needed, could be such a compelling invitation to a sweet experience of the energy of the heart. We are all whole-heartedly broken open.

I swallow  the large chunk of ginger I have let swirl in my mouth, noting its sugariness, delighting instinctively in a gentle connection to all that I am within. Renee, my partner in crime puts her arm around me. We exhale together….



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I’m at the outer edge of a boundary that I erected for myself. It’s no line in the sand, but the real thing; enforced, communicated calmly, held deep in my heart. In theory, I feel really good about it. The kind of good that makes my heart swell, invites me to pay for someone else’s lunch, such a spectacular boundary that I am beyond shocked when it is crossed. And even more gobsmacked when I realize I am the perpetrator; all in the name of self-discovery, expansion, awesome growth.

I teach what I am meant to learn. So it is a surprise to me on 3M Tuesday when I am confronted with the answers to the question that I ask: “What is the biggest lie you have always told yourself?”, that I resonate with every single one. “Shit,” I say under my breath. And then try to hang onto the wispy life raft of self-confidence that offers itself whenever I am hit hard by a need to be vulnerable and an equal lack of desire to do so.

I’m in Eagan Minnesota facilitating a Yoga Psychotherapeutics workshop. It’s beautiful stuff, really, normally, sometimes painfully. But tonight the room practically shimmers with a sense of soil tilled over hard to reveal the sharp earthiness of a life grounded in everlasting expansion. We all sit together, nodding our heads, passing tissues, offering wavering smiles as we parse through the not good enough’s and the shame of our bodies and the glaring void of loss.

We are a Kula, a community of the heart; broken wide-open to reveal the tender, sweet, soft nectar within. Such is enough; when the tight grip of the unknown cedes into uncertainty and what once seemed unsurpassable is now made possible through the generous ferocious deep Spirits of others.  We are all interconnected, intertwined, co-inhering, filling up one another’s empty spaces, breathing the same air. We exhale toward spontaneous stillness, quietly, longingly, lovingly, together.


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gratitude 4:10:16

Oftentimes peace is it…. View outside my bedroom window at 8:45 pm. I think there might be prayer possible in this kind of quiet, still, spacious experience. Much gracious, grand and glimmery gratitude to all of you.


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How gratitude can be easy (not a definitive top 10):

  1. Trust uncertainty and go for it.
  2. Sleep in at least once a week.
  3. Don’t over-think it, ever.
  4. Look everyone in the eye.
  5. Make your to do list no more than 2 items a day.
  6. Have a tribe and reach out, often.
  7. Take time to connect to stillness daily.
  8. Happiness is awesome, santosha (contentment) lasts longer and encompasses more.
  9. Cry when you need to….
  10. Believe….

Thanks to the fabulous Aylin Collier for the Pablo Neruda quote.

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grarirude 4:8:16

I  am juicy, beautiful, unleashed, unafraid, curious. All day the invitations are replete with the usual rabbit holes and yet I dodge them with a clear-eyed honesty, a gulp, a quiver; intrepidly my own well-earned expansion expresses herself. It’s great to suddenly see myself whole, unadorned, embracing my life just as it is in the moment.

I never do it alone. Here’s a list of honorable partners who helped to make today happen:

  1. Steve, my accountant, riding me hard, forcing me to justify every G&D-Damn expense. Congratulating me on the return.
  2. My daughter Sasha, bringing it home in the honesty department, unflinching in her straightforward, fearless love.
  3. Friday afternoon small group, letting me riff on wisdom and wonder and the inherent fabulousness of the spaciousness found within.
  4. My awesome business partner Danielle who laughs as I wander into the deep end, rescues me with a gentle reminder of how far we have come and nudges me back onto the path we have chosen; assuring that we can craft all that we have yet to know.
  5. Me, suddenly I find that I am much, much more than enough. Something glimmers. I think, for tonight, I’ll simply rejoice in it.



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