I see you
All parts of you
A delicious swirl of joy and grief
Euphoria and ennui
Held in my gentle stillness
The stillness that follows you
All parts of you
To the farthest ends
I cannot help myself
For it is what nature dictates I do
And I cannot presume
That I may one day be the gale and you my centre
For nature blesses me with you
All parts of you
On holding space for my children and husband, written 13 July 2026.
I had been searching for you Searching for me A version of us That no longer exists Neither locked away in a drawer Nor hidden in the shadows But void An outline waiting to be filled once more With colour A different fun and folly Deep knowing That our loss
Would life have been sweeter if I had mothered you instead Soothed your inner child Let you see your power and the beauty of this world For there is more to hold in awe than there is to fear and abhor And we have choice You have always had choice
The first time I set foot in a commercial yoga studio was way back in 2004, but it wasn't until 20 years later that I decided to teach. My own practice had its own ebbs and flows across the years. I swung between asana-crazy periods and jadedness
Quite a lot, as it turns out. There are many days where I feel like we're all living in a dystopian film. And on others, when I look around me, I feel hopeful for humanity. There is still so much that isn't manipulated and hardened by