Grief
34 entries · oldest first
Hopefully thats gonna turn around, as I'm headed into DC for a nice little stay. Hopefully tomorrow afternoon finds me picking up a shift at Cosi. I need the funds, and a nights worth of work will do me well. Heck, I'm even bringing with me my Funeral Chic-wear (cosi's dress code is all black). Also, on Friday morning, I have a 7am meeting with Shivon. We're meeting at Bob Evan's for breakfast, and I have to laugh a little, cause I haven't eaten at Bob Evans in a loooooooooong time. I don't even know what a fatty like me will order.
Gawd. The possibilities.
I'm gonna go up tonight, so I can play with Jackie, and Lauren, and stuff. I also need to make sure I have an alarm clock, cause you know my ass won't wake up at 6:00am to go a meeting unalerted. I also need to make sure I clean out my car at some point, as the random objects from the move that have lingered there are not neccesarily the most useful. Tech Vac? Video Game? Jump Rope?
Well, maybe the jump rope can stay.
And then my best friend died. And I've sobbed for her, but not in recent years.
But tonight I sobbed for Emily. Woe is the holidays, and I miss her. I'm gonna visit her grave for Christmas, I think, and I'll bring that bitch cookies. I never bake, but I will for her. I'll have Mark or Geoff supervise. I can't take it. I've never missed her more. I want to believe she'd be proud of the man I am.
Emily'd be so proud. She'd be angry that I ran a marathon, but share my bed nonetheless. Odds are good she'd wear the pajamapants she always wore (I haven't worn them out or thrown them away). I miss her so much. She'd call me out for days. She'd send me an awful IM.
I love the holidays, but, oh yes, I hate them too.

“Blackberry Picking” — Seamus Heany
Seamus Heany passed away. Sparked into a flush of memory by a friend’s lament towards the end of summer, I was coated in the thick stain of Heaney’s lingering words: A extra juicy reading of the poem can be found here, at good ol’ NPR. Blackberry Picking –…
Read the essay →If you make it in this world long enough, it all looks the same. Harder, faster, more gives way to the "thank god I'm still alive and have lungs to breathe." The hard truth is that if you make it long enough, all your old friends will be dead.
You've got to be ready to give it all back, or you'll just cry and cry and cry. Your best friend, your beautiful face, your Instagram identity.
I'll tell you a secret: 12 years ago, thoroughly off the deep end of grief, at the bottom of a drug fueled haze, I saw that the universe was made of love. I had lost my best friend in a tragic accident. I couldn't hold that much pain in my heart.
That was a long time ago now, I reckon. Heartbreakingly, in that span of time, I had forgotten her exact voice
Not so long ago, on a shamanic journey, my dead best friend came to me and told me to let go of all this sadness and pain. "nothing ever really dies," she said. "That's not how it works." I had already learned that lesson once. I can hear hear her voice again. "I push myself up through the dirt and shake my petals free. I'm resolved to being born again, and so resigned to bravery." -- Dar Williams
#tourof2nd
I hear stories of this guy named Derick Ireland. He passed away a few years ago, but taught on the beaches of Goa and Greece. He wasn’t so much, on the surface, into the “spiritual” side of things. He wore ankle weights, practiced in less than a speedo, and sold a valid practice off the back of his own gorgeous aesthetic. I’m told that Guruji had him bind his arms as you might see in an american flow style class. I imagine it was to accommodate his big ol’ biceps.
Funny, that. Remarkably, his legacy is such that he is remembered as a pioneer. He inspired practice in people who are now certified, and have legacies all their own. The John Scotts, The Petri’s, they all met a man who helped spark passion and practice.
Anyway. Bind your arm or leave your palm up. You do you.
--
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Your rage waits for you to call it by its name.
Speak it. Translate it. Transcribe it. Plaster it up and down the halls
that house abusers of power. In giant font. In wailing screams. In and
through the vibrations true to you.
Pour your rage into your projects. Create ceremonies to honor it.
Therapy sessions to hold it. Read the myths that contextualize it.
Find friendships that validate your rage. Communities that are
gelvanized by the conscious use of their own. Actions that channel it
towards some kind of relief and release.
If your rage is showing up, if your pain is calling upon you, if the hurt
that you have harbored for years is erupting, it trusts you enough to
receive it.
Until we work with it, our rage, pain, and grief exists beneath the
surface of everything we do. Seething. Soaking into and poisoning
our best intentions. Contorting our hearts into shapes too collapsed
to house the love we so desire. Wrapping itself around our life-force,
strangling our creativity, staving off what is rightfully ours.
Stationing retrograde on October 5th, at 10° of Scorpio, Venus,
planet of love, connection, relationships, women, femmes,
femininity, and desire, reveals her other side. When Venus
retrogrades we get to work with all that is in opposiuon to it. The
experiences that evoke our most difficult emotions refuse to be
ignored. One of Venus's many retrograde lessons is that the abuse of
of the world's grief. Do justly now.
Love mercy now. Walk humbly
now. You are not obligated to
complete the work. but nerther are
you free to abandon it.
- The Talmud
On the one hand, I was glad they were safer there than here. On the other, I was presented with profound grief. Those months in Mexico, replacing my yearly sabbatical to India, provided time with my first and most influential teachers: my mom and dad.
Plus, yoga on their roof looks a lot like some of my other favorite and meaningful roofs.
Having a consistent practice helped anchor me when things were truly terrible. If you’d like to learn a simple set of practices that match your unique needs, feel free to DM.
megaphone just to hear themselves talk. They
drone on, preach to the choir or berate it, replace
energy with melodrama. But there's always folks
standing by quietly, the ones with clipboards,
cases of water, who get the permits, set up bail
funds, print the info pamphlets, organize voter
drives, work at tiny non-profits when the glory of
the day is over. Those are the real teachers...
Social media is in a protest formation right now.
An effective protest works as a classroom, a
funeral march and a parade. We don't berate folks
for how they learn, grieve or feel joy. We don't yell
at them for the legibility of their signs. Whether
you are "doing enough" is between you, your
conscience and your God (if you have one).
Tragedy and war help us to find teachers. Who is
asking if you need help with how to help? Who is
offering tangible solutions and who is selling
hysteria? Who is using the megaphone as a
microphone and who is quietly building
infrastructure? Who is making you feel helpless
and who is making you feel powerful?
@herreraimages
Leo Herrera
@herreraimages
pandemic. Many of us never dropped our shoulders
after that. Some of us literally can't breathe the same.
COVID was not the great equalizer we naively hoped,
but it was an event of mass clarity. Changed how we
saw people and government. There are friends and
family I still don't talk to, not after I witnessed risks
and privileges so different from mine. Did I overreact?
The official death toll is 7 million, but related deaths
are immeasurably higher. Is 4 years enough to mourn?
When will I get over streaming my grandmother's
funeral on a shitty signal on Facebook Live?
COVID fractured our version of reality. How could
some of us believe in a disease and others not? See
masks and vaccinations so differently? And how do
we consider millions dead and disabled but
also...good things? How many origin stories start with
"during the pandemic, I..started my business, learned
to (blank), got pregnant, got this dog, fell in love."
COVID changed our center of gravity by 6 feet, forced
us to cross the Rubicon. What parts of us stayed in
that lockdown, and what parts were set free?
Leo Herrera
@herreraimages
This is from Mexico in 2019, before my world imploded. Before my parents moved to this very neighborhood in the jungle. Before my brother and sister in law died in that jungle, killed neither by the jungle nor COVID. It’s hard to imagine a time when my trip to Mexico’s biggest stressor was dodging that very same brothers phone call. If you had asked, I would have told you that I had nothing more to say to him until he apologized. That was very not true. I keep thinking I know what it means to have had a human experience, and then my mind gets blown by natural wonder and the human experience. Yes, even the depths of tragedy can inspire awe.
At my weakest, I would sing:
I will push myself up through the dirt,
And shake my petals free,
I’m resolved to being born again,
And so resigned to bravery.
To explore how yoga can help with grief, visit Ashtanga Tech. You’ll gain a foundational understanding of the qualities of grief and ways in which yoga may support someone who is grieving.
https://ashtanga.tech/study-guide/adaptation/mental-health/grief-yoga-1-0/

Self Practice and Grief
When I got to Goa, I felt anonymous again. In Mysore, I felt like everyone had heard. I was the ashtangi who got hate crime'd in the face after his house burned down. I wanted to be the tall pretty one. Or the smart one.…
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cumulative strength: how a casual approach to chanting helped me appreciate my practice more
When my brother passed, I felt blindsided. It hadn't occurred to me that such a thing would happen, even though looking back I can see that with that kind of drinking, it was inevitably going to happen. You can't drink like that and not die…
Read the essay →Cumulative strength
UM AND IT ALSO MENTIONS
Cumulative strength

Sometimes the Support is the Success
I got to watch a long-time practitioner nail her first straight-leg jump-through this week. Liz has been practicing for years with my dear friend and colleague Jen Rene before joining me shortly after the pandemic. She's a gem. Right after hearing the tell tale 'swiff'…
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In Memory of Paramaguru Sharath Jois
It is with great sadness that I share the news of Sharath Jois’s passing. At 53, Sharath's passing is quite sudden. He is considered by many to be responsible for upholding the Mysore style of ashtanga yoga's lineage. As such, for many in the Ashtanga community, Sharath’s teachings and presence became central to their (our) practice, and his loss will be deeply felt
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Navigating Teacher Burnout: Strategies for Self-Care and Healing
Teaching yoga is a profound and fulfilling vocation, yet the weight of responsibility can lead to burnout if we’re not mindful. As Jason Crandell reminds us, the journey is not for the faint-hearted, with challenges such as compassion fatigue, financial worries, and the isolation that can come with the role. In this blog, we’ll explore essential strategies for self-care that will not only help you recognize the signs of burnout but also empower you to take proactive steps towards healing. From nurturing your personal practice to prioritizing rest and connection, discover how you can align your expectations and embrace the journey of teaching without sacrificing your well-being. Join us as we dive into effective self-care techniques designed to rejuvenate your spirit and enhance your teaching capacity—because self-care isn’t just a luxury; it’s a necessity that allows you to shine brighter for your students. Embrace the process and remember, when you prioritize yourself, you elevate your entire practice.
Read the essay →0,4
INI
Today 6:26 PM
We are
In truck with Phipps. All good. Mx
Nationals!!!
YAAAAAAY
I miss you guys
Delivered
Said bye bye after a
wisdom building
winter
TISSUE OF JOY / GRIEF / RAGE
AND OTHER FEELINGS THAT BIND
US ALL TOGETHER IN THIS BRIEF
AND FRAGILE HUMAN EXISTENCE.
A
E
8
ч
1.0
YUMI SAKUGAWA
@yumisa kugawa

Holding Space for Political Engagement in Diverse Communities
Protest as Practice Have you noticed how diverse our community is? I'm not gonna lie... it brings me so much joy. So many races, countires of origin, sexual identities, and ages-- all practicing in one spot. Straight dudes, Fem Dykes, Catholics, Central American Mystics, and one…
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Yoga Filter #1: Who Decides Whats Real
Every week, Michael Joel Hall weaves together questions about transformation and who gets to authorize it — from Ashtanga yoga teacher-authorization to AI consciousness, eco-death marketing, and the power of the count.
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Ashtanga Yoga Tech Support #2: Solace, Sex, and Strength
Welcome back to Tech Support Tuesday. Each week, I pull questions from the yoga corners of Reddit and answer them on video. This week’s session covers three questions — grief on the mat, yoga’s quieter effects on intimacy, and whether this practice can actually change your body. visit ashtanga.tech to learn more! visit theyoga.club for more yoga! visit mjh.yoga for more from Michael Joel Hall! 🕊️ Navigating Grief in Yoga Practice One listener returned to yoga to find solace after their father passed away. During Shavasana, the tears flowed. That’s not a problem with your practice — that is your practice. Shavasana holds power in its stillness. When you’re moving through postures, your body and mind are occupied. Lying down removes those distractions and lays bare whatever you’re carrying. Crying on the mat is bearing witness. Your body has been waiting for you to stop, to allow for rest. Shavasana may have been the first time you gave it that chance. ☯️ Permission to Grieve and Move Forward If Shavasana feels too overwhelming, it’s okay to skip it occasionally. The first rule is do no harm. The yoga mat is one of the few places where you don’t need to explain yourself — nor should you judge yourself. Communicate with your teacher if necessary. Your journey on the mat is deeply personal, and sometimes laying still and letting emotions flow is the whole point. Going back to practice after a week? That says something about you. A lot of people wouldn’t. Don’t rush. You’ve got time. 🌟 Transforming Physical and Emotional Landscapes Another question explores yoga’s impact on intimacy. The physical stuff is obvious — stamina improves, you’re stronger, more flexible in every sense. Ujjayi breathing coordinates your nervous system. You learn to down-regulate on demand, and that means you’re actually present with your partner instead of stuck in your head. But the bigger shift is subtler. Ashtanga trains you to stay present with intense sensation without reacting to it. To breathe through discomfort. To notice what’s happening in your body without narrating it. These are transferable skills. When you stop bracing against your own body, everything changes — including intimacy. ⚖️ Beyond Aesthetic Goals Can yoga tone your body? Sure. Ashtanga will absolutely change your body composition — you’re holding your own weight in ways that build lean, functional muscle. Sun salutations are progressions of a push-up. Your arms, core, and legs will all get worked. But here’s the thing. Once you start practicing, you’ll probably notice something shift. You stop caring as much about what your body looks like and start caring about what it can do. Santosha — contentment — changes how you show up in every physical relationship. Self-love looks good on everyone. ✨ The Side Effects Are the Point Start with what hurts — anxiety, back pain, whatever brought you here. The toning, the calm, the adamantine body the Yoga Sutra talks about? Those are side effects. Remarkable ones. But side effects nonetheless. That’s Tech Support Tuesday #2. Three questions. Grief, connection, and what your body is actually for. Bring yours next week. 00:00 The Question 00:21 Why Shavasana Is Hard 00:49 Your Practice Is Working 01:10 The Grief Will Change 01:51 Permission to Grieve 02:41 Moving Forward 03:16 The Question 03:37 Physical Benefits 04:00 Presence & Breathwork 04:45 Body Acceptance 05:10 Connection & Self-Love 05:38 The Question 05:58 Posture & Spine Health 06:41 Anxiety & Flow State 07:28 Pain Relief 07:42 Body Composition & Strength 08:19 Beyond Aesthetics 09:08 The Takeaway
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Green Funerals
Choose funeral options with transparency and local care—prioritize honest data, ecosystem impact, and rituals that serve grief over glossy promises. We love a redemptive ending. The body returns to soil, a tree grows from the grave, death becomes compost. Green funerals promise exactly this: natural burials, human composting, alkaline hydrolysis, even those biodegradable pods that turn you into a sapling. It's beautiful. It's also complicated. Hannah Gould and Georgina Robinson wrote something sharp about this in Aeon. They're not against ecological burial—they're against the way it gets sold. The marketing is sleek. The data is often thin. Some of these technologies are still aspirational, others oversimplify genuine trade-offs. --- Read the full article: https://theyoga.club/how-to-become-a-tree-what-green-funerals-promise-and-whats-missing/ All content: https://mjh.yoga Concepts: Anicca · Pratityasamutpada · Aparigraha · Satya #ashtanga #yoga #ashtangayoga #yogapractice #theyogaclub
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First time back at yoga since my father passed away last week and Savasana was so difficult. It u…
This is Ashtanga Yoga Tech Support. Real questions from the yoga community, answered. The Question submitted by /u/Which-Acanthisitta24 — via r/yoga Our Response Yeah. That's going to happen for a while. Savasana is stillness. And stillness is where grief lives. When you're moving through postures, you've got something to do — breathe here, reach there, balance. Your body is occupied. Then you lie down and there's nothing between you and whatever you're carrying. Of course you cried. That's not a problem with your practice. That is your practice. --- Read more: https://ashtanga.tech/tech-support/first-time-back-at-yoga-since-my-father-passed-away-last-week-and-savasana-was-so-difficult-it-used-to-be-my-favorite-part-of-class-today-i-just-cried-thru-it-anyone-relate/ All content: https://mjh.yoga #ashtanga #yoga #ashtangayoga #techsupport #ashtangatech
Read the essay →Cognition Is Navigation
Two very different books argue the same thing: if you don’t know where you are, you don’t know who you are.
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