Monday, December 14, 2015

{ burn out } - yogi. photographer. writer. survivor. austin, tx

Wake up soul, fold the covers back and slide your legs over the edge of the bed.
Things must be done, it's up to you.
Rub your eyes and clear your throat, this life is happening and you make it grand.
The dark swells will crash, but you kick and you kick angel and you stay above the water.
Push your feet into the dirt and let tears seep from your soul out through every pore of your body.
Don't give up, slow down and breathe as you need, it's okay to catch your breath.
Looking back will make this harder.
Chin up, chest high, you run.
Wring yourself from your depths, from emotion to skin press out.
The fragrance of your effort is musky love, close your eyes and drink it in.
Sigh out every pain, every doubt, every insult, every insecurity.
You carry yourself in a cloud of elegance, there is a golden grace in your belly.
Feel the music move your shoulders and lighten your steps.
The wind plays with your hair and holds you from every angle.
At the end of this day acknowledge yourself, that splendid, sweet self.
Be proud of you.

single leg fold

Monday, December 7, 2015

{ compassionate } - writer. yogi. mama. friend. photographer. austin, tx

I'm conflicted by the term "tough love."
I don't think you can overuse "I love you."
Everyone needs to hear praise, even if they can't receive it.
I'll hold my kids until I'm physically unable.
Even then I'll pull them close to me for snuggles.
Life is too short to let the goodness remain hidden.
Positivity can only be multiplied when it's given out.
There isn't time to beat myself up over mistakes.
Apologize, seek growth, move on.
My views may not be right for you, yours may not be right for me.
Love is the true foundation of all.
If you're sad, cry.
If you're angry, yell.
Silence is a strength and it can hurt on both ends.
One day my babies won't be babies, and I'll still baby them.

The tears come quick and hot, streams of pain down my face.
Sobs echo through my dark apartment.
I want to ease the pain of my loves, I can't take the burden for them.
I land helpless on my pillow and cry for the hand of God to hold my tribe.
I can't fix the problem, lift the fear, erase the past, or control the future.
So I sink into my bed, I wail to an empty room.
I call every angel to hold, heal, and protect my dearest loves.
Tonight I'm a vessel for heartache.
I know it, I share it, I feel it too.
I'll soak the linens in your un-shed tears as my own, with my own.
All pain is great, big pain.
All love is great, big love.
This massive pain is simply massive love.


Wednesday, December 2, 2015

{ movement } - yogi. lover. mover. mama. austin, tx


Brush my hair from my cheek and tuck it behind my ear.
Look deep into my eyes with your dark mystery and give nothing away.
Pull the salt from my eyes in liquid form and feel the vibration of my heart shattering.
Our connection is seismic.


Return to the woods lover, find your wolf and bask in her strength.
The most beautiful fur she lets you curl up next to and rest.
She warns you with a firm growl when danger is near.
From her you've learned patience and courage.
Go find her now.


lowering to chaturanga

I called to heaven and begged to know why.
Heaven answered that day in spades.
I asked for a reason, for purpose, for hope most of all.
"The darkest hour is just before dawn" whispered the angel into my soul.
The sunshine I crave, my stubborn will and active body thrive.
Present grey you're an illusion.