I just want to begin by congratulating you.

You made it through this year! This year has been more than just another year on the calendar, but a year of fast change. Fast change, which brought: fear, misunderstanding, and worry to many, but also love, acceptance, and hope to others.

Regardless, these feelings came on suddenly. These feeling not only overwhelmed us, but demanded our full attention. We all had to act quickly, and often, intuitively. So, congratulations on making it through, because many have not. Congratulations on continuing on.

No matter how slowly you may feel you are moving, you are moving…and that is a blessing.

It was the latter months of the year, September and on, where I noticed the greatest amount of change and commotion. It was where I encountered a very real, and often times, scary sensation of groundlessness.

Groundlessness sounds as if it’s a term of anxiety, confusion, and fear…but as I’ve made it through this year, I’ve begun to associate groundlessness as an important aspect to becoming grounded.

It’s learning to lean into our fears and anxieties.

It’s learning to appreciate our falls.

It’s learning, without support.

Leaning; rather than running.

The end of September marks the beginning of this vast change, and mid-December marks the ending of the crazed phase of my life. I was lucky enough to be enrolled in a Yoga Teacher Training, which looking back on it now, was one of the only outlets I had to this sensation of groundlessness. Before Yoga even began, I had moved to a new city (and by moved, I mean relocated to the other side of the country), ended a long-term relationship with a man I truly loved, and just turned 21.

My journey was just beginning. In fact, my past feels like a distant memory. Faded and grainy. The things I learned through this fresh break-up, and my YTT, lifted me from a sleepless coma. I felt newly awakened. I just felt, new.

It was a beginning that led to an intimate re-self-discovery. It was not easy, and it is not over. Though, it is beautiful.

As my teacher training came to a close, I felt a nervous twinge slowly beginning to grow within me. At the time, I had thought it was an excited-nervousness. You know the feeling. It was actually a warning. Though YTT taught me a lot, it also uncovered and unearthed wounds that weren’t healing and any, and all, imbalances in my life.

This sensation was telling me that change, like I’ve never known before, was about to turn my world upside down.

Before I knew it, the beautiful rug, of new found opportunity and a new found self, was snatched from under my feet as the ground crumbled underneath my shaking legs. I was a weightless body floating in this world; groundless; fearful. Gravity had no hold on me. If you had asked me what Gravity was, I would’ve looked through you with eyes void of understanding.

I was changing.

A metamorphism; with no one here (family or boyfriend) to tell me who to be, what to be, or hold me to the things I was in the past, anything was possible. My old self was hell-bent on allowing me to accept this shedding of metaphysical skin. With this yearning to transform and understand who I was, also came an overwhelming sense of fear that captivated my being.

Anything was a possible.

Fear had convinced me of my insanity, by using what I love most against me, meditation. Meditation was no longer a moment of peace, but a stationary moment of caution. I was paranoid, mistrusting of spirituality, and most of all, mistrusting of what was dormant within. Dark and light.

I was scared of what was inside of me, to the point I sacrificed those once rewarding introspective moments, for distraction.I was scared to close my eyes; scared to listen. My mind was playing tricks on me. Talking to me, guiding me, and watching me. I led myself into the hedge maze of my own head, where I would remain stuck for weeks; yet it felt like an eternity.

“The mind can be a beautiful place of inspiration, but a horrifying place to dwell.”-Tamara Wright

I’ve never heard truer words in my life, granted I’m  only 21, but still. The mind is more than a beautiful tool, it is a very real aspect of our reality. When it is yourself who controls it, inspiration and beauty spark forth, but when it is you who are controlled by it, destruction and decay formulate. In this moment of chaos I was unable to take care of my physical body, which made my mentally and emotionally worlds difficult.

Reality seemed strange. Whether awake, or sleeping, I couldn’t distinguish reality. It was all because I ran. I ran from fear.


Life in 2016 was crazy, to say the least. It forced radical change on us all to create balance. Life has a very real, and incredible way at creating. This year, life just wanted us all to act. Act on our intuition. Accept and adjust. The risk that came with running from these new personal, interpersonal, and global transformations, was stagnation and elimination. Life has a very real way of eliminating those who don’t wish to adapt. It was a hard year for many, but it was an experience.

With all experiences and journeys come beautiful life lessons:

  • Leaning and accepting change and transformation is apart of the cyclic cycle of life.
  • Change is the only constant I’ve found so far.
  • Feeling and thoughts are just as real as the physical reality.

Groundlessness is just another aspect of the journey. How can one be grounded, if one has never known it was without? Change is an aspect of life that is natural, it is like the leaves in the spring and the leaves in the fall; growing, changing, wilting, falling. It is truth.

Truth which helps you unlock the mystery’s of this experience.

I challenge you all to sit down before the end of January  and write out the lessons and accomplishments you have experienced this past year. No mater how hard and difficult, or easy and fruitful, there is always something to be grateful for.

It was a crazy year. Accept, learn, and let go. 2017 is here and it will be just as full.

-Journey On!



Here’s the thing.

In nature everything looks so imperfect and unscaled, but the formation is so beautiful. -Bhavesh Chhatbar

Perfection has ruled my life.

We all struggle with so many things, that is what this life is; struggle. This struggle is a beautiful thing. With struggle…comes set-backs…which bring forth new beginnings…and lead to new growth.

I’ve let this struggle with perfectionism stop me from progressing through this cycle in certain areas of my life. In fact, perfectionism has made it difficult for me to grasp my full potential in all the things that I do; especially writing. I remember, almost two years ago, how dedicated I was to writing.

Writing my blog.

Writing my novel.

Writing letters.

Writing goals.

Just writing.

I started reading blog posts from other successful bloggers and writers. How, writing was a dead-end, because only the “elite” and the “1%”, who have talent, make great writers. That writing was a set of rules, you had to know, and I mean know, grammar, read daily, write daily, and publish creations–not to mention, you had to have been doing it since you were a wee little one.

It’s almost as if you had to write as well as we all claim to know ourselves.

But here’s another thing:

So many of us don’t know ourselves, and even if we do know ourselves…there’s still so much of ourselves we will learn as life goes on!

Yet these words that I read, still affected me. For the longest time I would sit down to write. It would go well for about 10-15 minutes. Then, I’d have a thought: “Where is this novel going.” If I couldn’t have my idea all thought up in my head to the perfect comma and period, I’d bury the feeling to write away. Until it came back.

When it came back, frustration built inside my body; I’d be angry. Angry for not writing; angry for writing; angry for still trying.

Almost everyday, it was like a bad case of writers block.

No. It was a bad case of perfectionism, which spilled into all aspects of my life, like the splayed fingers of freed ink. I had no idea how tremendous an effect this little hiccup had in my life, but 2016 was a year that cleansed this hiccup; body, mind, and soul.

I could either learn to adapt and keep my life in my hands, or let life decide what to do with me.

2016 has been a year of intuitive decisions. There were moments my intuition decided before I even knew I was deciding, throwing me off a cliff before I knew there was a cliff.

Life served me some hard-ass groundlessness this year.

Life also served me some hard-ass lessons, and bad-ass blessings. I don’t know about you, but I think I was given a year of challenging intuitive decisions, because I was starting to ignore, and forget, about my beautiful ability: intuition. So, as we bring in the new year I want to make some promises to myself:

  • That I will do my best to listen to the intuitive sensations of my being.
  • That I will do my best to know perfection only exists in the imperfections.
  • That I will be, unapologetically, myself in this blog (and in all writing endeavors), my yoga practice, and my spiritual journey.

To remember, that being a writer isn’t about being the perfect writer. Just as being a yogi isn’t about being perfectly balanced, and spiritual. That being the best I can be isn’t about becoming perfectly me; but imperfectly me.

In so doing, I become closer to our sense of “perfection,” than I ever would be. I also want to promise you, that I will do my best to remain steadfast in my passion: To share. To share it all. The good, the bad, the ugly, the cracks, the flaws, the growth, and the depth.

I don’t blog about yoga and meditation because I want to be a spiritual wellness writer. I blog about those things, because they are big aspects of my life and I wish to share the knowledge I have with you all, in hopes that you will share your knowledge with me.

I don’t want to fall into a label as we fall into our inheritance. I want to fall into myself, like we fall in love with other souls; by pure accident.

-Journey On