There is something about this monthāthis whole seasonāthat evokes a sense of rush. A sense of go, go, go. It makes us feel like weāre never doing enough, never being enough. Whether that comes from capitalism, ego, or simply a deep desire to show love, it can become overwhelming. In my body, overwhelm often leads to burnout. I tend to think: Well, if I canāt do it all, I wonāt do any of it. If I canāt make everyone happy, I wonāt make anyone happy. And guess what? Thatās not true. Iāve gone back and forth about this site at least a million timesāis it worth it? Do people hate it? Am I trying to be something Iām simply not? And Iāve decided to stop. Not stop the siteāstop that thought spiral. Instead, Iām just going to do it. Iām going to let it be what it is and not worry about numbers. Not worry about whether anyone shows up. Not worry about what people thinkāor if they think about it at allābecause it has been so necessary for me. Having something I can dive into has been so special. A place to pour my passionsābooks, writing, yogaāinto one space feels like a gift. This season of my life has been one of the most absolutely beautifulāstunning, reallyābetter than anything I ever imagined. And also the most brutally hard. Iāve never been in a worse place with my body. My reflection felt like a stranger; even placing my hand on my body felt like touching someone else. These arms arenāt my arms. This cheek isnāt my cheek. Movement felt awkward. My strength felt gone. (reading back through this- and noticing this shift in verb is driving my ELA brain wild- but I think, metaphorically- it's accurate) And I know, inherently, that the only way out is through, so I stayed on my mat. I kept teaching. But as a leader of a practice built on LOVE YOUR BODY, NURTURE YOUR BODY, I often felt like I was lying. Thenābecause babies are cute and expensiveāI started this little experiment with online yoga. What a great idea, I thought. Yoga at home while Van sleeps. A way to move my body and make a little extra cash.