Why I Write

Cause I am through that shitake.
This is my story. I am the author. 
And if I'm angry, I'm ready to flippin' feel it.
And keep writing.
And loving.
And hugging.  
Why? Cause. This
Writing is my (invisible-ish) superpower.
I write. I write. I write.
To remember.
I write to love.
You and me, boo. 

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Negative Thoughts, Our Realities, and Love

THE INVITATION :: by Oriah Mountaindreamer :: I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

I was once told by a healer that what threatens my peace is the way I think.

And that I am a leader for those around me. A leader for positive thinking.

Ok. Hold up. My thinking threatens my vibe but it also leads my tribe.

That's confusing.

And then I thought about it a lil mo.

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Lost, Sensations, and Joy

So sometimes you feel lost, right? I mean we all do. Right? Like ery-body does. Right? Well, maybe not. But I do. Sometimes. And I know in the end I am my own guru. I know the concept of not needing an architect cause I already am a temple. (Thanks DLP!) I get it. Well...

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Planets, Suicide, and Hugs

It’s 4.11.2017. Woo woo warning. I am going to start talking about planets. And retrogrades. Four planets are in retrograde parT peeps. F.O.U.R. “And you need to prep for the insanity.”  It has been feeling a bit. Well. Cray lately. At least for me. And it sho seems for those around me too. Of course there’s the usual "my technology isn’t working" cause it’s mercury retrograde. But there’s some real, raw cray too.

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Dancing, Screaming, and Freedom

Yesterday I danced. Like around other peeps. And not at club. And not after tequila shots. Or even a glass of wine. I mean a cup of coffee happened. A dance class happened. It’s the first time I’ve taken a dance class since elementary school. (That’s kind of lie. There was the adult Intro to Ballet class that wrecked my hip and I dropped out of.)Now don’t get me wrong. I’ve been dancing foreva. There were lessons for a minute.

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Sunday Blues, Boobs, and Power

It was a cold, rainy Sunday morning in February. February 22nd, 2015 to be exact. 


I stood in front of my kitchen sink feeling the weight of the Sunday blues and the sorrow of the dark sky in my heart. My mind flashed back to a sunny day that past June when I was lunching under the blue sky with my fellow yoga teacher training sistas. Somehow as we consumed our tacos, we had gotten on the subject of self breast checks. 

“Ew!” I said. “I hate them. Of course, everyone has some lumps/bumps. I would rather not freak out about what is probably nothing. So, I just don’t do them. ” 

“Emily!” exclaimed my friend, Erica, “You know your body best.” I ignored her...or at least I thought I had.

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Love, a New Moon, and Mirrors

It's 230a. I'm awake. Well, I just woke up. There's a storm blowing through East Austin. The wind is whipping; it's down pouring and thunder just rumbled. Living in an attic (studio) w a metal roof, storms and sleeping don't usually go together. So, I'm up. I read, but now my own words are floating through my head. So, I'm up - writing.

As you may know, my word for the year 2017 is love. (It was my word for 2016, too. Still working on it.)

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