As I watch my boys adjust to their new lives on Maui, I am constantly reminded of what a blessing it was to grow up here. As a kid, I remember feeling like the island was a giant playground. Days off were spent looking at rainbows, jumping off waterfalls, and splashing around in the warm salt water. Maui provided me with endless amounts of fun and I loved her for it. I wasn’t the only one - I was surrounded by a community of people who had similar feelings of appreciation for the land and what it provides for us. I believe that when you live on Maui your sense of nature, and earth as a whole, changes. It becomes a part of you.

I have found living on an island produces a very distinct worldview. In my experience, this view isn't one that isn’t specific to Hawaii but shared by all Island nations. This mindset stems from deep gratitude for the land and acceptance of the island exactly as it is. We learn to put our energy into enjoying the land and protecting it for the generations to come, instead of wasting the energy wishing things were different. We understand that true paradise does not come from a place, it comes from within.

Therefore, when people move to Maui with the idea that once they get here everything will be perfect and all of their worries will disappear, they are sorely disappointed. It takes work to get to a place where we are ready to receive the gifts Maui has to offer. You must be in vibrational harmony with yourself before you can expect to be in harmony with the island.

I believe Elizabeth Gilbert describes the phenomena well:

“Every city has a single word that defines it, that identifies most people who live there. If you could read people's thoughts as they were passing you on the streets of any given place, you would discover that most of them are thinking the same thought. Whatever that majority thought might be - that is the word of the city. And if your personal word does not match the word of the city, then you don't really belong there. ”

Every time I tried to force a move back to Maui in the past, my plans fell apart at the seams. It just wasn’t my time to be here. My word didn’t match. My energy was not vibrating at the same frequency as the island. When the energy of the island calls us we must listen closely- because we will simply be an energetic match or we won't. Sometimes we need to wait until we are ready. This time as I prepared for the move back home, I knew in my soul it was time.

The gift of Hawai’i is living in the now and being in the present moment. The loss of my husband has brought me to a space where I am finding myself in a vibrational match with that energy. The only way I have been able to persevere in the midst of the turmoil and grief is by surrendering to the present moment. To what is here. To what is. Granted the circumstances that brought me here were tragic, but they have caused me to seek comfort from the Island. To listen for its wisdom. Lo and behold, I am finding just that.

I have always dreamed of raising my children on Maui. I wanted my sons to grow up in nature, I wanted them to feel the comfort of a close community, and I wanted them to learn the importance of caring for the island and its people. In our short time here I have witnessed their relationship with Maui blossom. What I didn’t anticipate was the newfound appreciation I feel towards this island as I see it through their eyes. Experiencing Maui again through the lens of a child has reminded me that this island is still a giant playground and we are never too old to enjoy it. As my sons continue to find new things they love about our new home, so do I.

The Magic of ‘Iao

Growing up I often visited the ‘Iao Valley State Park. I loved swimming in the freshwater pools from the ‘Iao stream and learning about the history that unfolded right under my feet. I have core memories of spending time in the tropical beauty of this sacred valley with friends and family. Now I'm making core memories with a family of my own. Now when I think of ‘Iao Valley, I can hear the faint sound of my boy's laughter barely audible over the roaring stream. I'm reminded of how small we are when I see the 1000ft cliffs tower over their tiny bodies. I have a deepened appreciation for the history that allowed my family to enjoy these waters today.

Conquering Twin Falls

As a local rite of passage, I have walked the path to Twin Falls many times with many different people. Returning with my sons, I experienced this hike from a new perspective. Usually, when I make it to the pool I'm in awe of the natural beauty and excited to bask in the mana of the forest. This time around, I was in awe of a different type of beauty - instead of external beauty I was struck by the beauty this hike provided within. I watched as my 5 year old blossomed with pride and confidence as he conquered a new challenge. I watched the island silently provide him with life lessons and felt the warmth of his soul absorbing its wisdom.

Deep down I always knew I’d move back to Maui, but when the time came I was still scared. Will I feel the same way I felt when I was younger - will I eventually desire to leave and explore the world? The answer is yes and no. Growing up on Maui was magical and I’m now getting to experience that same magic as an adult, only this time I know that I’m exactly where I am supposed to be. 

*5 minute read*

I was already praying for a miracle on the day I learned my husband had died. I had spent the last two weeks back home on Maui helping my dad fight his second bout with throat cancer. Two weeks earlier, I brought our boys with me to Maui to help my family navigate these tricky waters. The situation at home was going from bad to worse, and I opened my eyes on that windy morning, praying that there might be some good news on the horizon. I almost didn't have the energy to get it, but by the grace of something higher than human will, I answered my husband's FaceTime as I ran out the door to take my dad to his chemo and radiation appointments. He teased me for always moving his stuff and told our boys and me how much he missed us. Looking back, I am so happy I answered because that was the last time I'd ever see him. That day was already one of the worst of my life. On top of being in the midst of the trickiest part of my dad's treatment, my stepmom was also in the hospital and deteriorating fast, and their landlord was getting ready to start legal proceedings to evict them amid a housing crisis on the island, and here I was with two boys under 5, trying to hold it all together. I shared some gallows humor with my dad after we got a call from the doctor that imparted even more bad news. I told my dad that if things kept worsening, they would eventually have to start getting better. Little did I know that my husband was taking his final breath 2,000 miles away at that very moment.

Nine years before the events of that day, I moved to California from New York City. I worked at a job I loved but was burnt out by the demands of the metropolis. I grew up in Hawaii, so I thought I needed to be able to see the Pacific Ocean to find balance in how I approached work and rest. I was right, California immediately welcomed me, and I quickly became interested in getting out and meeting people. Almost on a whim, I signed up for Match.com. It was entirely out of character for me to try online dating, but the saltwater in my hair and the sun-kissed tan I quickly developed made me feel ready to try new things. A week after signing up, I got a message from a handsome Italian named Joe.

When I saw him, my heart jumped. Most of my potential "matches" were, for lack of a better word, underwhelming. I feel lucky I had some perfectly respectable and polite encounters conversing with gentlemen on Match, but no one made me look twice until I saw Joe with his 100,000-watt smile and Mets hat. After our first date, all the love-at-first-sight clichés clicked in, and we were inseparable. There was truly no one in the world I would rather be with, and everything was better when he was around. He won me over with his sense of humor and the fact that we couldn't walk down the street without someone yelling his name. "Joey! Long time no see!" It was like walking down the street with a celebrity or the mayor.

Joey proposed on the 9th hole at the Park Hyatt Aviara golf course about six months after we met. It didn't feel fast; it felt like we had spent lifetimes waiting for that moment. Like we had been searching endlessly and had finally found each other. We had a small, intimate wedding back home on Maui at the Lavender Farm in Kula. The wind was high on that day, too; right as we said our vows, the wind crescendoed and foretold a meeting of fate, a coming together of two destinies.

We became parents to two boys shortly after, and Joe was the most attentive and loving father anyone could hope to have. He told me on our first date that he knew ever since he was a boy that he wanted to be a father, and every minute we got to spend together as a family of four was a testament to that knowing. Our lives were simple and filled with laughter. Joey was an expert at impressions, and you always knew a good laugh was at hand when he had to stand up from wherever he was sitting to use his whole body to tell the story. I've never felt more at home than when we were together, so losing him was indeed like losing the place I belonged.

I got a text message from a number I didn't recognize as I was driving my dad back to his house after his treatment. The message read, "It's Richard, please call me." I had to think if I even knew a Richard, but I remembered my husband had recently been hiking with his friend and realized it must be him. At that moment, I knew something was wrong, but because I was so immersed in my dad's needs, I chose to reason it aside and think how many Richards there were in the world. After getting my dad home safe, I called the number from the text.

"Joie, are you sitting down?"

Click.

The call dropped. My heart and my mind went in exactly opposite directions at lightning speed. I thought, "surely everything is ok, maybe Joey had an accident, and Richard is calling to tell me he's in the hospital." But my heart knew the worst had happened. My heart knew I'd never be the same. My heart knew our boys would face the challenge of growing up without a father. My heart knew the gusts of strong wind and rainbows I had seen everywhere over the last several days were warnings that the next few minutes would teach me the meaning of anguish.

Joe died after a sudden heart attack while hiking. Within minutes, he crossed the barrier between worlds, surrounded by the beauty of the Santa Monica mountains. The immediate aftermath of his death meant dropping my role as caretaker to my dad and heading back to California to manage the task we all spend our lives trying not to think about. My husband and I are Buddhist, and the impermanence of life and the inevitability of death is something we often would ponder. He loved to explain human existence as just as fleeting and delicate as a rainbow, beautiful but not inherently existent.

For this reason, he would always stop in awe whenever he saw a rainbow. But conceptually understanding impermanence and experiencing the sudden loss of a loved one are two vastly different things. I couldn't eat or sleep for weeks. I had to entrust the care of our two boys to friends and family, so I could find a way to move forward. Every day I expected him to walk in the door. The question I asked myself, and still frequently ask myself, was, "how and I supposed to do this?" "How am I supposed to live without you?" The answer to that impossible question isn't concrete. It comes in the whispers of the wind. It comes in seeing my five-year-old run and play with his new friends at the park. It comes in little moments of kindness from strangers.

Despite losing my best friend, and father of my children, I am acutely aware of all the blessings in my life. The tsunami of friends and family that rallied around my boys and me was overwhelming. After planning Joe's memorial celebration, it became clear that I couldn't go on living in California. The absence of him in our home was too significant. I knew it was time to bring our boys back to Maui, something we had always imagined we would do as a family when the time was right. I spent the next month in packing mode, often pushing my grief aside to get the impossible task of moving across the ocean over with.

I always say it, but grief is like having roll-over minutes. You must feel it, or else it'll store up to be felt later. I learned this early on, but I had to find time to schedule feeling my grief. As a mom with two young kids, it became paramount that I demonstrate how to handle our feelings while simultaneously not losing myself to my grief. I knew that I had to be strong for them, and in this way, I feel I honor my husband. I feel that the best of him was transferred to me, and now I am not just me. I am both of us.

One of the funny things that happened was I started to love the things he loved. I remember going through his belongings and feeling so depleted with sadness. I'd pick up a t-shirt and totally break down into pieces. But a funny thing happened when I found his golf clubs. I didn't feel sad; I felt excited. I thought that these clubs had to be put to use. My husband loved golf, and we always mused about being out on the golf course as a family when the boys were old enough. I knew it was important for him to share this love of the game with his boys, and one of the ways I've channeled my grief is into doing precisely that. I had never played golf before he died, but when I am swinging his golf clubs, I feel close to him, and I feel him close to me. It calms my anxiety about how we will get by, and I feel like I can be present with him and our boys.

Not long after we landed on Maui, I had a moment of utter despair. The commotion of planning and packing was done, and it was just the future ahead of us. Soon after we arrived back home, my dad lost his battle with cancer. One night, after the boys went to sleep, I screamed and cried, demanding some sign, comfort, anything that could let me know we would be alright. That night I dreamt of an old tourist attraction here on Maui called The Sugar Cane Train. It hasn't been in operation in years, but Joe appeared in my dream to tell me he wanted to take our older son for a train ride. The next day we were driving home from the golf range when my son spotted a rainbow. "Mommy, look! Daddy sent a rainbow!" Since I was driving, I couldn't stare at it in awe like my husband used to, so I did my best to take a quick picture of it to look at it later. When I got home, I looked at the picture and almost fainted. At the end of the rainbow was the old Sugar Cane Train sign. I didn't even realize we passed it when I took the picture.

Moments like these tell me death isn't an ending at all. I am still very much in love with my husband. Our relationship has changed from a physical one to a spiritual one. And while those moments of the pain of losing what once was are often still with me, I know that we will be alright. And what's more, deep in my heart, I know we will meet him again.

It is funny how different locations activate different energy in the body.

Our experience is a coming together and dispersing of causes and conditions. When you associate a way of being with a particular location, it is much more likely that you will adopt that way of being the next time you find yourself there. I find myself precisely here, in that space of humble familiarity with the joys and pains of home. My teacher always said it takes 72 hours with family to regress into childhood patterns. I think 72 hours is a stretch. Only a fully enlightened Buddha could make it to the 72-hour mark. For me, its like 20 minutes. I say this with levity because the humor of regressing to an earlier form of oneself is not lost on me. The humor is what makes it bearable.

I drive past the old places where I made stupid choices, and suddenly I have a craving for tequila. (I hardly ever drink, and tequila is NOT what I would choose to drink on most occasions.) I see the teenage girls fawning over their phones, and suddenly I become self-conscious like even though I’m twice their age, I’d still like them to think I was “cool.”

To be fair, I don’t always feel this way when I come home. Usually, I get to experience what most people who come here experience. As I sip my morning coffee, I watch the hoards of tourists experiencing these islands in the carefree way I usually would, fully immersed in an experience of beauty and relaxation and fully present in the moment and its gifts. I’m jealous of the way they saunter about, without a care in the world, but I’m here for a reason, which makes those moments of innocent connection more rare and precious. 

My dad is sick. It is hard for me to say that. Because when I say it, it feels like it’s true. And while it is true, at this moment, my focus on working to help him get better lets me stay busy enough not to have to look at it. My dad is sick, and I am home to help. I am here to be of service. I am here to hold space and energy for healing on all fronts. I am here to practice loving-kindness. I am here to honor the man who gave me life in his time of need. I am here to put aside my discomfort, self-clinging, and expectations of what my family should be like, in favor of seeing and loving them for exactly who they are. The cause of my regression into the depths of childhood insecurities is how utterly out of control I feel. I am walking the tightrope between perfect surrender and sheer terror for what lay before me. But the illusion of control is something I’ve built up around my normal life to hide the insecurities I am now being lovingly forced to face head-on.

These islands have magic. Whatever you have built up around you as an attempt to define yourself will be washed away. Whatever you need to learn will be served to you first on a sweet breeze, then by the sound of a rooster, and then, if you fail to listen, by a tumble on the rocks. The Menehune will steal your keys to make sure you are really listening. The waves will overtake you right when your confidence errs on the side of bravado. Each misplaced grain of sand will pop up out of nowhere to ensure you aren’t taking yourself too seriously.

So here I am, on slopes of the House of the Sun, with only one thing I know for sure: Everything will be alright.

Hard work doesn’t have to be hard.

Hard work can be pleasurable, enjoyable, and divine. In fact, I would argue that hard work must be respected in this way for us to live fully in our authenticity. Hard work is necessary, but the struggle is not. Hard work can give you energy, and that’s how you know you are living in reality.

There is a yogic teaching about reality vs non-reality. In a nutshell, anything that gives you energy is a reality, and anything that takes energy from you is a non-reality. The simplest teachings are always the most profound and the most outrage-provoking. Recently I read an argument against this concept that went something like this: “well what about bills and taxes and life problems? Are you saying those things aren’t real?!”

It’s true, I’m no expert, but I believe this argument is missing the point. Sorting out all your real-life problems does not have to take energy from you. In fact, taking care of business should give you energy. That is the skill-set of the yogi; you face all that life has to offer with gentle strength and grace. Even the stuff that isn’t as fun.

It is not the thing itself that makes something a reality or a non-reality, it's how you feel about it. There’s no moral code of right and wrong, or real and not real. For instance, in many of the yogic teachings, it is suggested for women not to shave their armpits or legs. This advice is given as a way to increase pranic absorption, and protect the glands, to allow for deeper meditative awareness. For some people, the benefits of this advice will be felt in energetic alignment with how they approach the world, ie in alignment with their reality. For others, the energy they spend arguing with themselves about whether or not they should shave their armpits will be greater than the energy gained by keeping their body hair. For them, this practice would be a non-reality.

This teaching has been instrumental for me in the process of manifestation because it's a really simple litmus test for identifying the opportunities and circumstances that are in alignment with my soul’s mission, and those that are not. If it gives me energy, it should be investigated and applied. If it takes energy from me, it's easy to let go of it to make room for the next miracle to manifest. How do you know if the situation in front of you is a sign from the Universe…

…Ask yourself if it gives you energy.

The line between sheer joy and utter fear is fine these days. The world seems both in shambles and perfectly arranged. Yet another example of the nature of polarity. The micro reflects the macro, if you keep going left, you end up going right, strength vs. flexibility. Everything in the natural world reflects this delicate balance of polarity. Can two seemingly contradictory circumstances exist simultaneously in the same space? That’s the nature of the planet.

Can a person’s inner world affect world peace? How could it? How could one person’s thoughts feelings and emotions possibly affect change outside their orbit? But through the lessons of yogic teachings, really the question becomes; how could it not? Everything about us is energy or vibration. And like a ripple on the water, will continue outward with each passing moment. Everything you say and do and think goes out into the ether, the Akash, or the zero-point field, which as far as we know extends out into infinity. Like so many things about human life, this ability seems mundane, but should not be taken lightly. Just because you don’t know how your thoughts, feelings, and actions will affect others, doesn’t mean they don’t affect anyone. Your inner world is broadcasting itself to the entirety of creation, at all times. No exceptions.

The following are the lyrics to a song my mom wrote in the 80s. In my opinion, it should have been the #1 hit anthem of its decade. It was a prayer then, just as it is now. A prayer that each of us realizes the power for world peace rests in us. Never has it been more poignant and relevant. You can listen to it HERE.

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Every day, worlds are born, and worlds die away

Seems like, now the world’s so small, we see it all right here on our TV

Seems like, the more we bridge the distance, the harder it becomes for us to see

Well, if all the world’s a stage

We’re actors in a play

With an ancient script of fear, and doubt, and greed

To write another page

To find a better way

Reverence for life is what we need

For peace in our world

Peace in our country

For peace on our streets

Peace at our house

It all starts with peace in our hears

We fear the dark, mortgage all our future

To keep the hooded horsemen from the door

We’re talkin’ peace, but building bigger weapons

Always closer than it ever was before

But in the land of the free, and the home of the brave

Why do so many people need a gun?

If it were just you and me, the world would be safe

‘Cause deep inside we know what must be done

For peace in our world

Peace in our country

For peace on our streets

Peace at our house

It all starts with peace in our hears

Seems like there’s something we forgot

Something real close to home

As we see life through the eyes of a child

We find again the truth we’ve always known

For peace in our world

Peace in our country

For peace on our streets

Peace at our house

It all starts with peace in our hears

Body positivity is so hot right now (said in the Mugatu voice from Zoolander).

I am grateful for the surge of body-conscious fashion, and media, and I do honestly feel like we are going in the right direction. But, there’s still a long way to go if we are going to truly promote an experience of self-love and self-acceptance in the hearts and minds of western society. So many brands make a show of promoting acceptance for female bodies of all shapes and sizes, while simultaneously excluding bodies that represent other genders. There’s still so much hate and judgment thrown at bodies that don’t fit a traditional standard of beauty, or that fit that standard too well. While the range of bodies we see in advertisements and social media is wider, traditional fitness still has an over-emphasis on what our bodies “look” like. While we seem to be growing beyond an arbitrary standard of perfection, the goalpost seems to be constantly moving.

I realize that what I am about to say may sound, well, strange. But there is a standard by which you can measure how perfect your body is. The perfect body is a body that reflects and resonates the vibration of your soul.

Stay with me…

Each of us enters this world with a specific constitution of the 5 basic elements. Think of this constitution like a fingerprint. It is totally unique to you. No one else on the earth shares your specific ratio of water, earth, air, fire, and ether. This elemental makeup is determined in part by the aspect of your consciousness that makes you, you. Ahamkar, as it’s called in Ayurveda, is the individuation of universal intelligence that results in you. Ahamkar’s job is to identify the things that make you you, but it is born out of the universal intelligence that orders all things. In other words, the part of you that makes you you, and informs your physical body what proportions of the elements make up your form, gets its orders from divine intelligence. By this logic, trying to manipulate your body into a constitution that doesn’t harmonize with this effortlessly authentic state is a waste of energy. Trying to change our bodies into something other than its most naturally fulfilled state would be as useless as the planet Saturn trying to be Jupiter

Here’s the trick, how do I know what my natural state should feel like when the only standard of body goals has been set by other people and fed to me through media and social pressures? How do I know what my natural soul reflection should feel like if I am suffering under the weight of self-hatred, depression, anxiety, stress, and other very real-life issues? It is impossible to see the more subtle realm of our authentic state when we are perpetuating subconscious traumas, triggers, and negative beliefs. Where did my desire to lose weight, or have a bigger butt come from? The only way to know is to go inward.

Affirmations are some of my favorite ways to get at the heart of things. When you speak an affirmation and really listen, you can get some very important messages directly from that universal intelligence. Create a quiet space for yourself and relax. Maybe do a little yoga or a workout right before to get the flow of prana moving. I recommend saying these out loud, and as you do, really listen to yourself. Do you sound like you mean it? Does it sir an emotional response? Try to take a position of curiosity as you say them:

My body is divinely ordered

My body is a perfect reflection of my soul

I trust my body because I trust myself

I have a relationship with the divine force through my body (feel free to substitute your verbiage for the divine)

I enjoy how my body effortlessly changes with the seasons in accordance with the flow of nature

I listen to the calls of my soul and answer them with how I treat my body

My body is the conduit through which I realize my truest self and purpose

I effortlessly carry myself in a body that is authentic to my mission

I love the process of getting to know my body

I am having fun learning about my true purpose from the sensations of my body

My body is magical

Regardless of your relationship status, here is one thing you can do to feel the love on Valentines Day (and beyond)

When I was 17 I participated in a leadership and self-development group called PSI Seminars. Their techniques are similar to the Landmark Forum, you start with the entry-level seminar and work your way to the more immersive experiences. They teach fundamentals of purposeful living, like being impeccable with your word, and creating win-win scenarios. One of the practices I learned from them is called RAKS, otherwise known as Random Acts of Kindness.

When you think of random acts of kindness, maybe you think of paying for the person behind you in the Starbucks line or helping an old lady with her groceries. If these types of opportunities present themselves, you should absolutely take them as a way of practicing a random act of kindness. But RAKS was different. A fixed amount of time would be decided upon and participants had exactly that amount of time to commit as many RAKS as possible. At the end of the time, they would submit the number of RAKS achieved and the group would tally them all together. In a community of 20-30 people, the amount of kindness shared in that small interval of time would always feel astounding. This was partly because the time limit and the goal of doing as many acts as possible, made you stretch the idea of what you thought a random act of kindness could and should look like. By the end, you realized that almost everything you did could be a RAK, if do it with the right intention. It was like a game, and games are fun. What’s more, the knowledge that other people were striving to get out of themselves, in the same way at the same time, was uplifting in itself.

RAKs utterly take you out of yourself. For just that brief portion of your personal history, you are immersed in the challenge of doing good by others. Watch how magnetic and radiant you become when working for the benefit of others, even if only energetically, watch the amount of love you can cultivate in a short period of time. That compassion, that love, that belonging, it is contagious, because that’s what life wants for us. Life wants us to grow the amount of love we can give. How much love can you give in one hour, how much can you give in 24 hours? Consider that a challenge. On your mark. Get set. Go.

Hidden in plain sight.

Most of the profound, ancient teachings of yogic technology are hidden in everyday life. Some of these technologies were deliberately kept secret, to shield the “uninitiated” from the karmic repercussions of ignorance. These teachings are so ancient and so profound, and so universal, that for many of us, even if we think we understand them, we don’t really understand them.

Time and time again, well-meaning seekers like us experience a profound realization and assume that it’s all we need to know. Taking only a part of the teaching and turning it into a platform, a brand, a religion, a belief system, with devout followers who preach only one piece of a vastly complicated fractal. Historically, many of the deep teachings have been hidden to prevent this kind of karmic misstep.

In the age of Aquarius, nothing is hidden. Every piece of information imaginable is available to us at the touch of a button. But because of this, many of the deepest and most profound teachings of yogic science remain hidden. With so much access to so much information, it takes a significant amount of skill (and energy) to see through, interpret, and extract the information that is useful to us. The truth and depth of the teachings are lost in a sea of the overflow of information. This is one such teaching, the navel point.

“I had a gut feeling”

Maybe you’ve used this phrase before. Used to express a knowing that came from somewhere deeper than the conscious mind. Specifically the navel area. In yogic science, there is a tremendous emphasis on the importance of the navel center. A point where all 72,000 channels of the subtle energy of the body meet. The place where your life was sustained without breath for 9 months in your mother’s womb. When something is off about your direction, or your intention, the navel center is the first to tell you. Some western scientists go as far as to call the gut the “second brain,” because of the number of nerve cells that effectively allow your gut to remember.

The navel center can itself be out of alignment, kinda like when you bring a compass too close to a magnet. When the navel point is out of alignment, you will feel jealous, unsure, easily triggered into negative self-worth, anger, or fear. Your ability to clearly perceive your intuitive hits and connect with your destiny depends on the circulation of subtle energy in the body. Remember those 72,000 channels of subtle energy, and how they meet at the navel point? If that energy terminal is misaligned, how could that energy possibly circulate properly?

This navel conduit has a subtle and physical location, and through the various postures and kriyas of certain yogic practices, we can bring that center into alignment. Everything in your life is initiated from and flows through that point. That’s why many fitness trainers will instruct you to keep your core engaged to prevent injury. The movement has to connect from the place where you began. When the navel center is aligned, you’ll find yourself consistently in the right place at the right time, unresponsive to the emotional triggers of jealousy and fear because you are too busy enjoying the seemingly unending synchronicity of living on your destiny path.

Set the navel point with this abdominal set from The Manifestation Workout

One of my favorite things to do is to pick some element of the Kundalini yoga tradition and test it. I’ll take one mantra, or one meditation, and purposefully not investigate its history and meaning. My intention with this is always to come to some sort of genuine experience of what that practice does without judgment of what it “should” do.

Time and time again, I am surprised and amazed at how closely my experience matches what was given as the purpose or benefit of that practice.

One such example was my experience with the mantra Chattr Chakkr Vartee. This mantra is said to bestow courage, and self-confidence, even in times of fear. As with any mantra of this type, you don’t need to know the meaning of it for it to work. Just having it playing quietly in the background as you go about your day is effectively saturating your energy field with this vibration, allowing you to receive the benefits.

Each mantra has its own “fingerprint”. Its own resonant signature goes out into the world to interact with the other frequencies it encounters on your behalf. It is said that listening to these divine mantras will make your own body vibrate and emit that elevated frequency, and that has been the case for me time and time again.

In 2019 I hosted my very first retreat. While it was very exciting to begin to put together the puzzle of how to make an event like this succeed, I was terrified. How could I not be? The stakes were very high and I had never even thought about doing something quite so big before. I was stretching the amount of success and confidence my aura could hold, so naturally, the universe came in to test my resolve on a number of occasions. It is funny how that happens, the moment you decide to grow, to live bigger and fuller and more radiantly than you previously had, the universe pops up just to make sure you really mean it.

I had been working on learning Chattr Chakkr Vartee, listening to it mostly in the car. I can’t remember why I decided to learn that particular mantra, it was likely because I didn’t know it yet. I’ll admit, it was a hard one for me. The nuances of the pronunciation, the cadence, and the rhythm of the verse made my head spin. It didn’t let me in right away. My teacher often shared that mantras have little “entrance fees”, they won’t necessarily give up their wonders right away, and this one was like that. But despite my difficulties, whenever I got in the car I played it on repeat.

I toiled over it for weeks as the day to leave for the retreat rapidly approached. One day, as I was getting ready to pick up my son from daycare, I was plagued with thoughts of unworthiness, imposter syndrome, and fear. “What if I don’t get enough people?”, “What if people come but don’t like it?”, I was spiraling into a deep pit of lack of trust and need to control everything around me so I could prove I was worth something. I put this mantra on the car stereo as I always did, not consciously thinking about it.

I had heard stories of people hearing “voices” at times of great change or crisis. Like a voice from beyond that whispers or in my case yells the truth you’ve been seeking. I had never experienced it though. All at once, like someone had a megaphone to my ear, I heard these words: “DONT BE AFRAID!” It was more of a command than a suggestion, and all at once my obsessive non-reality of fear was gone. It shocked me out of my pattern of self-doubt, it gave me the courage and the ability to stay the course through any doubts that would arise. From that point on, whenever I felt fear, I was able to take myself out of it, and not follow it down the rabbit hole of self-loathing. I felt powerful, capable, and fulfilled in my work. The retreat went off without a hitch and continues to be one of the highlights of my career.

Imagine my surprise when I later went back to learn the meaning and purpose of this mantra. Spiritvoyage.com describes it like this: “This is a mantra used to remove fear, anxiety, and phobias. It is a mantra to make one experience victory. The mantra bypasses fears and doubts and brings deep courage and strength forth from within. Tap into your personal power, your victory, and your inner strength. It is a warrior mantra.”

To this day, this mantra continues to bear fruit. I recently shared on Instagram with a friend who is leading mantra study groups that this mantra can pull me out of a negative cycle of fear within 3 repetitions. It’s true. Within seconds, I just can’t seem to hold on to the thing I was afraid of. If you are in a place where you are ready to unlock your own hold-ups around fear of success, I highly suggest working with this mantra.

Breath

This book, by James Nestor, has gotten a lot of buzz lately, and for good reason. When we hear that we’ve been wrong about something so fundamental to our existence, it makes our ears perk up. What do you mean I’ve been breathing incorrectly? How is that possible? The author takes a deep dive into many different fields of study and dutifully applies himself to the experience of the effects of breath on the body, and life.

For most of us, breathing is largely ruled by the unconscious mind. At any time we can bring it into our conscious awareness but most of us are taking the fact that we breathe in the very essence of life, for granted.

The book takes a largely scientific approach to this premise, delving into studies, research, and fringe practitioners who developed methods for curing hundreds of seemingly incurable patients through breathing techniques. I enjoy this type of scientific analysis when it validates the experiences I’ve had. For instance, the author tells of how breathing through the nose is beneficial for our health in a myriad of ways, including easing anxiety and stress, and how most people unconsciously breathe through their mouths more often than they should. This tracks because of my experience of times spent mouth breathing. When breathing through my nose I feel more on-edge, more anxious, more emotional, and generally uneasy. Or how one practitioner of deep breathing claimed he could increase intuitive awareness and insight. This validates my experience of breathing practices that have given me what’s called “eagle vision”, a perception that I was somehow floating above a situation and seeing clearly other alternatives.

Here’s the thing that gets me. Everything presented in the book tracks with what the ancients knew for centuries upon centuries. When a man with a beard from India comes to the West to teach the techniques we know to work through experience, it’s called pseudoscience. When a witty western journalist writes about it, it becomes credible and groundbreaking. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the book, and it is clear the author paid his dues in more ways than one to be able to present this information in such an informative, engaging, and pithy way. Besides, this kind of knowledge isn’t owned by anyone. Anybody with a nose is free to discover the sheer power that lies within their capacity to breathe. My only intention is to validate the science of experience which too often gets thrown out as not relevant.

If a yoga teacher describes the healing benefits of a particular practice, try it. See for yourself if it works. What good is it to demand to see the peer-reviewed studies that prove the existence of subtle energy? (Though several are emerging) Similarly, what good does it do to go around sermonizing the benefits of breathing through your nose simply because you read about it in a book? Have an experience of it, do the work. Become a scientist of the self, just as the author did, and just as the ancients did.

Absolutely, as long as you are honoring your energy authentically.

The company I worked for in my 20’s was one of those companies that championed their method above all others. Clients were told that if they did any other type of workout, they would not get the results they were promised. It is true, that from the eyes of a trainer, you need to know exactly what your client is or isn’t doing to be able to “prescribe” the right program suited to their goals. But from the perspective of moving with your body’s rhythms, this approach is a little too “all or nothing” for me.

I’m just going to come out and say it when the goal is optimum health, doing the same, high-intensity, workout day in and day out, does not work. Yes, consistency in your workout is paramount. Yes, doing the workouts that make you feel the most uplifted is key, even if it is the same style of workout every day. But what doesn’t work, is training in a modality every day that demands a high amount of intensity, while denying your body’s natural rhythms. Training in this way will have the exact opposite effect as what you’re looking to accomplish.

While I was working at this company, I was exercising an average of 4-6 hours a day, 6 days a week. I was in my early to mid-’20s and never had I been more unhealthy. The strain of non-stop high intensity made my body go into a constant cycle of stress. Because of this constant physical stress, my period stopped entirely for a few months. It was then I started to imagine what listening to my body could feel like, and slowly began to map the energy of my cycle.

What I found was a way of looking at my cycle that corresponded to the energetics of archetypal feminine energy. Gender isn’t really a part of this equation, because no matter where you fall on that spectrum, we all experience cyclical energy. But for the purposes of this blog, we will focus on the 4 phases of the moon as they relate to feminine archetypes.

Maiden/Pre-ovulation/Waxing moon: This energy is fun and lively, it is excitable and ready to try new things. This is a good time to try a workout you’ve never done before or one that seems “fun” like aerial yoga or pole dancing.

Mother/Ovulation/Full Moon: This energy is fertile and full of life. It wants to create, and feel one with the creative force. This is a great time for a HIIT or Dance Cardio workout, where you can really express your creativity through your physicality, and push yourself.

Wild Woman/Pre-menstruation/Waning Moon: This energy is good at setting boundaries, nothing can fool the wise, wild woman who has been through it all. This is a good time to do a workout with more structure. Reformer Pilates, barre, or gym equipment that sets clear boundaries for your range of motion, is ideal.

Crone/Menstruation/New Moon: This is the time to go inward, take a break from how you think people expect you to show up, and honor your body. Yoga, stretching, swimming, or mat Pilates are ideal. But really whatever workout makes you feel, safe, nourished, and reflective is what you will benefit most from.

If you want to try a workout series designed to help you feel into this energy, check out my MAHINA Moon series HERE

Disclaimer, this is not advice for a Capricorn, this is advice from a Capricorn.

My natal Sun is in Capricorn, and so I feel at home in the chilly advent of winter. With Capricorn season in full swing, naturally, I feel most in my element. Each year, on Winter Solstice, I feel the shift and get filed up by the energy of Capricorn.

As a Capricorn, I hate unsolicited advice, but because I am a Capricorn, I love giving it. Honestly, I can not think of a sign better suited to give advice, except maybe Virgo. So here it is, direct from me to you; advice from a Capricorn.

First off, get in touch with your sense of humor. Most people don’t realize that humor is a huge part of the Capricorn identity. Capricorns are known to be one of the most serious signs, and that’s why we are so hilarious. “Comedy should be taken very seriously”, one of my mentors told me early in my career. Frivolous comedy that is bashed together can never stand up to a well-thought-out and identifiable joke based on objective observation of life. But getting serious about your sense of humor has far broader implications than just comedy.

A sense of humor is like a buffer for life’s pesky annoyances. The thing about these little sticks in the mud is that if left untreated, they can become life-long grievances capable of destroying our happiness. Disagreeing with someone online can turn into an all-out social media war with untold damages if left unchecked. Entire empires can crumble with the utterance of one word, nay, one breath, based on fear and speculation. With your sense of humor intact and fiercely defended, you can deflect the cyber attacks of your own unconscious habit to take things personally.

Next, drink lots of water. This is more a reminder for me than it is advice for anyone else. In fact, I assume literally anyone reading this is likely better at consistently drinking water than me. But because of my state of consistent dehydration, I know what a difference drinking the right amount can make. There can be no light without the dark, there can be no humor without seriousness, and there can be no hydration without dehydration. One of the most fascinating books I ever (partially) read was “You’re Not Sick, You’re Thirsty” by F. Batmanghelidj. Let me sum it up in one sentence. Almost everything you think is wrong with you is because you’re dehydrated. You’re welcome.

Lastly, celebrate the little wins. Otherwise, things will never feel quite finished. Part of completing a project is stepping back and reveling in a job well done. I can’t think of a better confidence booster than looking at something you’ve done and enjoying it. Ever wonder why those cute little goats climb to the highest peaks? So they can look down and judge all the underlings, of course.

Nah, just kidding, they want to enjoy the views.

I have a very unique experience of this because for me it goes like this: Kundalini yoga after, before, and after.

Let me explain…

I was born into the practice and tradition of Kundalini yoga. I was conceived in the ashram my mother lived in on and off through the 70s and 80s. For this reason, I don’t remember a time completely “before” Kundalini yoga. As a kid, when I struggled with fears, social tensions, tantrums, or whatever else children struggle with, the solution was always a yogic technique. “Chant this mantra, breathe this way, eat this food, etc.” I experienced the kindness and levity of people in the community who felt connected to their destiny. I learned the benefits of karma yoga, and how a person’s predominant thought-forms can appear in the fascia of their face. I learned the magic of the pre-dawn hours, and what makes Winter Solstice so powerful. All of the beautiful benefits of Kundalini yoga were made apparent to me from the jump.

But, as often happens, I became a teenager/young adult and decided that Kundalini yoga wasn’t “cool” and left it in the space of my memory for many years. “That’s my mom’s thing” I would proclaim, desperate to find what “my thing” would be. I thought I wanted to be a dancer. Dance was the only thing I cared about, and I didn’t see how those two disciplines could co-exist, until later. (The joke was on me because now my entire business is centered around how those two modalities not only co-exist but originate in the same wisdom)

My life at this time, after I had my fundamental experiences with Kundalini yoga, but before I rediscovered it as a personal and meaningful daily practice, was challenging. I think all teenagers and young adults would describe those years that way. I was trying to find myself in all the wrong places, namely outside myself. I remember feeling so lost and insecure, while secretly and deeply wishing I could find some sort of deeper connection to the universe. I tried, in vain, a number of other meditative and yogic techniques, because I was so blocked around Kundalini yoga being “uncool”. I mean, let’s face it, Kundalini yoga is weird. And because I lacked confidence, I couldn’t bring myself to own up to the fact that it really did work. It wasn’t until finding a teacher who resonated with me, that I got to see a world where Kundalini could not only be cool, it could be exactly what I needed.

The benefits I receive from my daily practice are uncanny. They are not ambiguous or difficult to understand, they are simple and measurable, and clear. When I practice every day, my skin gets brighter, my confidence gets better, my limiting beliefs still pop up, but I have a little more space to decide if I want to follow them. When I practice every day, my intuition gets scary-good, there is more energy around my business, I am more patient with my family, and creative ideas flow freely. Also, this one is kinda random, but when I am practicing regularly, I always seem to attract free parking, which in LA, is all the inspiration I need.

Here’s a yogic teaching most people don’t understand.

In every relationship, there is one person who is the giver, and one who is the taker. Before you get hung up on the language, let me warn you that if you are perceiving one as better than the other, you will not be able to intuit which you are. So please, suspend your judgment for just a few moments.

This dynamic has nothing to do with gender or identification with masculine or feminine energy. It is very simple, one person’s auric energy field is bigger than the other’s. It’s part of their energetic anatomy the same way one person being taller than the other is part of their physical anatomy. The energy in the relationship flows “downstream” from the giver to the taker. Picture twin mountain peaks, they are both serene and pristine and awe-inspiring, but one of them is slightly taller. Now here’s the rub and where most people get confused, on the ultimate energetic level, this dynamic never changes. In each relationship, one person is always the giver and the other is always the taker. It can change from relationship to relationship, you might be the giver to your best friend and the taker to your romantic partner. But within the same relationship, this anatomy of energy is fixed.

The teaching says that every problem in a relationship comes from a misunderstanding of which way the energy is flowing. Either you’re the giver who is not giving, or you’re the taker who is not taking. Or you’re resenting the position you have in some way. So the key to harmonious relationships is to lean into your position in a wholesome and authentic way. If you are the giver, find ways to give more, and if you’re the taker, find ways to receive more. The easiest way to tell which you are is to try on each position. If you are the giver, you will be energized by giving. If at any time you feel like you “just can’t give anymore,” it is likely you are not the giver. If you are the taker, you will be energized by receiving.

What do you do with grief?

In August I lost someone I cared about deeply. My friend, client, mentor, and teacher. She was a magnetic and magnificent woman, and a huge expander in my life. She looked at me and saw only my potential. It is hard to imagine losing her. I still get pains of utter denial. “How did we lose her?” a friend exclaimed furiously after her death. How did we lose her indeed?

I had never lost someone I felt that close to before. Conceptually, I know death is a part of life, that this won’t be the last time I experience the pain of loss, and that one day I too will die. That this time is fleeting, and we need to grab every precious moment and recognize it for what it is. But knowing something conceptually and experiencing it are two very different things.

The death of a loved one brings the experience of the fleeting nature of human life into focus. For me, I felt a sense of duty to her memory to honor myself, and ask for more from my life. It was like her death gave me the permission I needed to stop hiding my gifts. Each time I feel a wave of grief, I allow myself to feel it and then ask myself what I can do to honor her belief in me. Sometimes the answer is “have a good cry”. But most often the answer is “move”.

I move my body, I move my perspective, I move to a different location, I move into a creative activity, I move my tongue and speak the truth, I move consciously in the direction of my highest good. I feel like she left something here with me, some of her confidence, some of her vision, some of her light, and I get to be a steward of it. It is that sense of responsibility that moves my perspective of death to a place where I can recognize it as more than just an inevitable and unavoidable part of life.

Death is a movement.

My mother changed my name several times in the days after my birth.

She toiled between the traditional spelling, Joy, and whether or not to give me the name of her close friend Joy-Beth. Joya, Jamaica, Joie, all thrown in the hat and discarded.

My official birth certificate has one name scratched out and my legal name, Joi Elizabeth, written in the margin between lines. I remembered hating my name growing up. It was too short, and it was neither correctly spelled in English nor French (I was born in Canada). It was unique, but if I’m honest, it never felt like my name. The name given to me at birth held the vibrational coding of my childhood, which was far from perfect. As a kid, I knew that leaving home, and growing up would help me find who I truly was. I thought that if I had a different name, I might better embody that person I was meant to grow up to be. I think a lot of children feel this way because I hear often that people grow up disliking their name. It is almost like a rite of passage. Something you either accept and grow to love, or something you change.

Fast forward, I’m 21 and living in New York City. I loved my job, but it was grueling. My body was so overextended and malnourished that my toenails were falling off on their own accord. I was in an emotionally and physically abusive relationship. But thankfully, by this point, something in me was stirring. I was on the verge of a big change. I didn’t know it yet, but I would be making the decision to leave the relationship and move to LA, leading to the life I enjoy today. But I wasn’t quite there yet.

I started studying French, and it became an obsession. My need to control something, anything, was directed to the nuances of the French language. On the subway, I’d listen to French lessons. After work, I’d pour over my textbooks for hours. At night, I’d fall asleep to French movies. It brought me so much happiness. I felt like I was expanding my perception of the universe, which is exactly what I needed to gain the confidence that comes with perspective. I booked a flight to Paris, and lived the next 6 weeks in France, soaking up every experience of pure ‘Joie de Vivre I could. In Paris, I experienced myself as the woman I could be, and I liked her a lot. I came back from that trip dreaming in French, with a newfound zest for what life could be, and began the long journey of changing my life.

I told my boss upon my arrival back in NYC that I’d like my name to appear as “Joie” on the class schedule. He looked at me and chuckled, knowingly. I can’t remember the exact words, but he said something like “Well of course it should be spelled that way!” He knew, like I did, that the woman I found in Paris, was to become a part of my personality in a way that would mean I could truly live at a higher octave than I previously had. But it is weird how people who have known me for a long time cling to an old way of seeing my name. I feel a little jolt when people who knew me as “Joi” insist on that spelling. And I’m only asking them to make room for one tiny, little letter.

Looking back, I asked people to spell my name differently for one simple reason, I liked it better. It felt right for me. It was somehow more authentically me. But I don’t know if I would have felt that way if my name had been spelled Joie all along. I think I needed to go through the deep transformation of letting go of my old way of life, in order to show up as I do today.

I’ll admit, this is the hardest part for me.

I am really good at visualizing, and creating a state of gratitude for the thing before I physically experience it. I am really good at taking actions that come from intuitive hits. I am especially good at over-achieving and staying a course day in and day out.

The part that can be hard for me is releasing the need to know how the desired outcome will manifest. I am willing to admit this only because the times I’ve struggled with this and then been able to overcome that struggle and surrender, have proven to be the times of my greatest miracles.

Surrender can come in many forms. One of the most recent times I experienced this surrender was the day my youngest son was born. I had intuitively known he would come early as his brother did. (My older son was two weeks early) Because my children tend to be on the larger side, my doctor made it clear he would be very happy if my younger son came early too. I resisted asking him why he thought that for a long time, because I knew his answer wouldn’t serve my confidence in manifesting an ease-full and uncomplicated birth. But when the two-week mark came and went, and my vision of having another baby at 38 weeks gestation vanished, I did the unthinkable.

I asked my doctor why he wanted this baby to come early.

He went down the laundry list of scary scenarios that could arise when a baby is “too big” and luckily because I trust my doctor and myself, I was able to take it with a grain of salt. I didn’t feel fearful, or so I thought.

I went home confident that my intuition would be correct and I would go into labor well before the 40-week point because that’s what I wanted. From that point, I consumed myself with every technique in the book on how to induce labor naturally. A week later, nothing had happened. Still pregnant, I work up on week 39, for lack of a better word, mad as hell. WHY had this baby not come out?! Didn’t he know my plan was to deliver early? Why wasn’t the pineapple juice, dates, long walks, and hot sauce working?! I was obsessed with knowing every little nuance of how this birth was going to happen, and I was sick of it. I realized at that moment that obsession came from a fear I had not admitted to myself. That fear was consuming my energy and I was tired of it. I screamed out loud from my bed, “I AM TIRED OF BEING AFRAID OF BEING AFRAID!”

Because I knew that fear was likely to slow or even stop labor, I was burying my fear and refusing to look at it. The fear that I would not have the beautiful birth I imagined turned into an obsessive and depleting need to know every detail of a situation that by definition is unpredictable. When I realized that not only was I afraid but that I didn’t need to fight that fear, something switched. I went into labor that very night.

The labor was fast and [relatively] easy, beautiful, and emotional just as I had pictured it. But I had to learn the lesson of surrender before I could have that experience.

In Kundalini yoga, there are many teachings on the significance of numbers. The tantric numerology system recognizes and teaches that numbers have an energetic frequency, much like how people do. Numbers broadcast a specific frequency that, as practitioners, we can begin to tune our subtle awareness to.

Knowing the spiritual and energetic codes that correspond to certain numbers is much deeper than just a philosophical or conceptual understanding. Knowing the meanings of the numbers serves as a jumping-off point for greater more experiential knowledge, which is the only type of understanding really worth anything in the Age of Aquarius. Luckily, the yogic teachings around these codes are extensive, and we can easily find different practices that correspond to the energies of different numbers. Then, with just a little applied and consistent effort, we can have a genuine experience of the meanings of numbers.

2021 has been a 5 year (2+0+2+1=5). In tantric numerology, 5 corresponds to the 5th body of your yogic anatomy. The 5th body is the physical body. The energy of 5 is dense, it is physical, it is gross and raw. It is powerful in a sweaty, warrior kind of way. Physical effort and exertion bring with it a tremendous amount of friction and tension. In order to move, it is essential there is some friction. Movement produces kinetic energy, and that is very useful for earthly manipulation and manifestation. The 5th body is ruled by balance, the correct balance of friction and inertia, the correct balance of strength and flexibility, of effort and relaxation. In this way, the 5th body is the body of the teacher, who can show you the path, but you have to walk it. It is the energy of effort.

By contrast, 2022 will be a 6 year. 6 is ruled by the Arcline body. The arcline is the nucleus of your aura. In the yogic teachings, it is said our destiny is written on the arcline. Through spiritual devotion we can re-write our destiny. 6 is the number of divinity, of spiritual devotion and service to something greater than our ego. The 6 is represented by a “person of prayer”. This energy is more subtle, and etheric, and brings with it an energy of devotion. This will be a year to deepen your spiritual pursuits and dedicate more time to those activities that bring you into a flow state, or subtle awareness and co-creation with the universe.

If you want to start to work with experiencing the energy of 6, try this meditation.

I got sick last week. The sickest I’ve been in recent memory. Being a mom of two small boys, there was little time to rest. I kept remembering easier days when the hardest part about being sick was how lonely it felt. I would have paid to have been lonely this time around.

Or would I? The most interesting part of being sick to me is getting to see my own mind. All the work I’ve done over the past 10 years to advance my spiritual experiences gets put to the test. Why is it that every vulnerable nook and cranny of your deepest and darkest thoughts get pushed to the front when you’re sick? Why is it when I am on the verge of a breakthrough, some illness comes to knock me back a few pegs? Why is it that getting sniffles means I am confronted with all my childhood trauma?

It’s an ordeal, it is like walking through the fire of your own subconscious mind. I can’t think of anything more frightening than myself. But my question is, why? Why do you get shown yourself so fully? Sickness is a part of life, a part of samsara. It is one of the most common and easy ways to burn off negative karma, making room for the merits of good deeds to express themselves. I am sure there are numerous reasons only a truly wise being could tell you. But I believe one of the reasons we can have such emotional and cleansing experiences through sickness is because of the breath.

In yogic teachings, your breath has some very important connotations. You’ll see different yoga sets calling through breath through one or the other nostril. Other breath techniques call for an emphasis on the diaphragm, the rhythm, etc. Where you breathe will change your experience. In the case of a common cold, your nasal passages are likely clogged, and so you will likely breathe through the mouth for an extended period of time. Breathing through the mouth highlights and activates emotions. Think of the times you have the biggest emotions. Crying and laughing hysterically will inevitably cause some deep breaths through the mouth.

Getting to see our buried emotions gives us an opportunity to actually work through them. The pain of sickness gives us an opportunity to see the world in a different way, and hopefully to change our habitual pattern of breath, long enough to transform the traumas stored deep within.

Eclipses are about beginnings and endings. One door closes, another opens. The Full Moon Lunar Eclipse in Taurus marks the first eclipse in a series of eclipses on the axis of Taurus/Scorpio. It has been my experience that whatever energy/intention/circumstances are drawing your attention when the first eclipse of a series happens, you’ll see some resolution or evolution of that energy upon completion of the cycle.

The cycle that is being initiated on November 19th, 2021 will conclude with a Lunar Eclipse in Taurus in October 2023. So let’s indulge ourselves for a moment and ask, “what do I want to be feeling/experiencing at that future time?” Or, “What’s something I can commit to the beginning, that can see completion in 2023?”

Bonus points if it’s something in the energetic domain of the polarity of Taurus and Scorpio like personal vs shared resources.

Take some time to think about those questions, and make an intention to initiate action on the full moon. On the full moon, start your day with a cold shower. Do some yoga or a deeply nourishing workout. Sit for a few minutes in meditation, and then write your intention in the present tense. For example, “It is October 2023 and I am so happy to have paid off my student loans”. Let yourself embody the feeling of having the goal before completely letting it go. Drink lots of water, and remember to breathe :)