"If someone does not want me, it is not the end of the world. If I do not want me, the world is nothing but endings." Nayyirah Waheed 
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Hello Dear Hearts,

How are you this Sunday? I've been living between that feeling of already having won, and this sort of strange heartache. I've come to realize that things usually ache the most when I’m standing outside my life, forgetting that what saves me is diving more deeply back in when heartache rises. I found myself there a few weekends ago, standing mid-afternoon, barefoot and makeup-less on the ply-wood floor of my apartment, on a Saturday afternoon in a city full of strangers. Couples and groups of friends I had just passed on the sidewalks, and me walking hand in hand with my own silence. The cross-fit competition I could hear down the block outside my window reminded me of my brother and my heart ached for him, and for the man I had recently met, who had just broken up with his girlfriend, making for our somewhat untimely, awakened connection.

That Saturday, within the silence of my apartment all I could hear was the echo of him not calling or texting me to make plans, and so it took some time to remember this. How to soothe the ache. To allow myself to keep choosing me, and my life---alongside friends getting married and having babies and buying houses--- rather than thinking disappointment, confusion, strange love, or this length of time I've been traveling solo means life--or love-- hasn’t chosen me. 

For a few days, within this widening expanse of the prospect of new love, and its seemingly simultaneous floundering, my own heart was leaping out of my chest. Not to escape from me, but trying to get my attention, asking that someone else’s pain not get the care mine still needs. Each small heartbreak at the anticipation of another lost connection is a reminder of how committed I am to building this life for myself, and those ways someone outside of me that I’m reaching to is reflecting something of me that wants to be further self-realized, tended to. Sound familiar? 

These can be invitations for our self-worth to renegotiate its feeling toward itself. And our feelings towards it. 

It suggested to me that my practice is to let myself both love, & let go. Worry less about if or when I'll lose love, or mourn, too soon, it being gone. To remember to enjoy it instead for all of its mirrored gifts while it's here. And know that those who haven't been able to be there for us entirely, or for as long as we'd like, don't mean we're unlovable, but are teaching us the ways to better, more mercifully love ourselves. 

From here, my yoga and writing practices become all over again the places of solitude where I continue to tend to my own eternally self-committed, self-connection. 

Creating Our Way Forward 

If you're interested in exploring your own personal poetry, ways of embodiment, and unique creative expression that can deepen the connection with yourself, and want to learn the craft skills that can help hold the sacred, mundane, and even profane experiences of life, strange love, and everything in-between, please join me for my up-coming 6 week series "Poetry 101" at GrubStreet this summer.

Poetry 101 
Fridays, July 6--August 10, 6-9pm 

Other upcoming offerings: 

 Happy Hour Writing Session
Friday, August 10, 5:30-6:30pm

Teen Week of Poetry 
Monday--Friday, August 13-17, 10:30-3:30pm 

Poetry and the Body 
Saturday, August 25, 10am-5pm 

*Scholarships Available: See class links for details* 

Group Yoga Classes

If you're interested in coming to a group yoga class, you can find my updated teaching schedule here. For now, I'm still subbing at Om Namo, with the prospect of picking up a weekly class. 
To Forever Flowing Hearts & Ink,

Copyright © 2018 Luminous Rebels, All rights reserved.

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