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A deep breath. Falling into a forward fold. Exhale. Allow my fingertips to brush the mat. Clear my mind. Acknowledge the thoughts that enter but then push them away. Just be in the moment.

Attempting to balance what had become a horrendously unbalanced work/life condition, yoga became a sporadic outlet to which I turned. When I could find the time and muster remaining energy, I would draw out the mat, but it was never easy. My hours morning, noon and night were consumed by a corporation that heeded no regard to personal time or space and operated as if there were fires constantly burning – uncontained, unplanned and always unending. My time was owned by another. Creative and independent thoughts were discouraged while someone else had already created a predetermined path that was not to be altered. It was a dark, twisted, downward spiral.

Rise. Allow each vertebrae to open and expand. Inhale. Hands are falling as if floating in the clouds. Exhale. Feel the ocean breath along the back of your throat.

Life eventually became a series of vignettes I directed with abundant levels of lightness, laughter and love. There is always time to slow down, breathe deeply and appreciate the sunlight dancing, warming, caressing the blossom. To dream, write and embrace life with a renewed sense of purpose – to always keep my head and my heart true to my own design.

Time, space and perspective brings a renewed unity and grounding. A sinking into child’s pose. A reconnection of the heart to the head to the energy.

The blossoms

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