(Yes, it’s technically tomorrow, but who’s counting?)

Life has, as always, been coming at me with a startling pace. A lapse of writing for even a week or two results in a massive backlog.

First: Melinda. We are back together. She’s actually living at my Mom’s house.

I just re-read my last blog post, and every sentiment I expressed in there was accurate. Funny enough, more drama happened since then: we started talking again, I drove back up to help her move, and we had an even worse fight that nearly a) resulted in the cops being called (allegedly they were, anyway) and b) had me spontaneously drive the unceremonious seven-and-a-half hour drive.

At which point I was again, of course, completely done. And then she more or less begged me back. We had conversations and vented and nothing seemed likely to come of it. But I slowly had a change of heart. She made other plans, and as those plans began to fell through, I was supporting her through the experience every step of the way. And, well, we re-enacted our old plans — her driving down here and renting out a room with my Mom — and, since then, everything has more or less been copacetic.

All relationships have ups and downs. I don’t write or share all the great things we have together: the great times at Bear Hole; the mind-blowing sexual chemistry, which blows away every other experience I’ve had, combined; the many moments of tender, sweet affection, of crying on each other’s shoulder; the ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ sense of destiny, of ‘us against the world’ loyalty; the quiet nights in, cuddling, watching City of God or True Romance; or the sassy repartee we share on an everyday basis.

Why not? Because no one wants to hear that shit! Hahaha.

But then people only hear the negative, and they start to think, Is that all there is? Of course not. I dunno, maybe it’s just a product of our environment. It feels like I’m rubbing my happiness in other people’s faces. Like being happy with someone is something to be ashamed of.

Then again, it also feels like expressing the perspicacity of the inner workings of our relationship hits a little too close to home for most.

Melinda and I love each other very much, and it would be a significant upset if we weren’t together for many years. It’s not a perfect relationship, but nothing is.

As far as Jill? I got irked at her and called her out on some honest to goodness incongruities. Which she never takes well. Seriously, people take critique far too personally.

Critique is necessary. Because if incongruities are not addressed, resentment builds. It’s rare to find people self-aware enough to know their needs and confident enough to express them, particularly before things snowball to the point of no return. I am one of those people. There really is no other way to address things than, well, to address things. It would be nice if people had a greater ability to practice non-attachment, to not be so invested in their own subjective reality.

I don’t really care about Jill; like I said, my previous blog post stands. She’s stagnacy. Wish her the best, but honestly, I haven’t thought about her at all since our tiff, the title of this post excepted.

Yoga, reading, writing. Doing those every single day, even if it’s only for a little bit, is my No. 1 priority. Everything else is second.

I have a newfound confidence in my ability to navigate relationships, both platonic and romantic. I just know I am such a catch — I am so attractive, open, communicative, honest, intelligent, interesting, thoughtful and aware — that I no longer feel the pervading sense of scarcity, of “loss” if a relationship does not work out or if I outgrow it. Who cares? The world is so large. Grieve, remember, learn, move on.

That is because I am constantly evolving. Developing. Improving.

It may sound arrogant or cocky. It’s really not, but you’re welcome to think that. It’s wonderful not to care! To both care and not care. Words become so limited at this point. It cannot be expressed through the written word; a circuitously clumsy attempt is the only recourse.

Still feel discombobulated. That’s the main reason I haven’t been writing.

But that’s just an excuse. Write anyway. Who cares? Am I writing for me, or the random people I’ve never met who may read or stumble onto this blog and may or may not judge me, for better or for worse? Or the not-so-random people who read this? Or whomever?

It’s for me. Me me me me me. Very selfish. That’s why I made it.

Stay true to me. Don’t care about what you write. Put it all out there. That’s what makes it an art. Keeping it to your self is nothing more than auto-fellatio.

June Review:

Crazy month. Drama. Romance. Inconstancy.

Yet: increasing tranquility, peace, direction and motivation.

July Goals:

Discipline. I have been wasting far too much of my energy on people outside of me. It’s back to myself. Buckling down on the routine I enjoy, the standard I hold myself to.

  • Begin The Artist’s Way
  • Yoga, 5-6x a week, first thing in AM
  • Journaling
  • StrongLifts 5×5 with Gil, 3x a week
  • Diligent financial planning: savings, debt, extracurriculars
  • Read 1 hour/day

School begins in seven weeks. Be prepared to hit the ground running.

We will write about Chico, Jill, Doomtree, and the commodification of yoga.

Big things are happening!

Thursday, July 23:

An uncereomnious break. Getting back on the saddle…

Monday, July 13:

So much for the streak.

Food poisoning. Weirdness. Lethargy. Tired. Melinda. Being in a relationship. Balance.

Searching for balance.

Thursday, July 9:

Two day streak of yoga and writing. That’s good. Even if it’s not where I want to be, you gotta start somewhere.

Every day. Just one day at a time. What more is there?

Melinda and I have gotten into a little tiff. Nothing too major. Typical ups and downs. Were good earlier, then a little off in energy. Then good. Now off again. Gotta balance things out. In due time.

Woke up and did yoga @ 8:30. One hour. The Thai massage I received the other day was not the business. Not going there anymore… unless it’s my regular boi Cho. I don’t even know if that’s his name, but that’s what I remember, so it’s what I’m calling him.

Why did I bring that up? Because there is pain in the upper-middle-left portion of my back. Not fatigue, not weakness, but pain. Injury. Ugh.

Also have been lifting too much. Will probably need to cut back. Attempting to make it through another four sessions, tomorrow included. Then back to two days a week. I won’t increase the week any of the next four sessions.

Sure could use some money. Work has been dry as a bone.

I still feel stuck and stagnant. Not entirely, but… I feel like something is dying to come out, but I don’t know how to get it out. Specifically related to writing and reading. A block is clearing up.

Let’s just write regularly and see what happens.

Wednesday, July 8:

Why has it been so difficult to write? I’m not sure.

Melinda is living at my Mom’s house. We’re essentially living together. She arrived Monday morning. Things were great until this afternoon. No fight or anything; the energy is just blah.

We need some space.

Have not been writing, obviously. Have been lifting. Have been slipping on yoga. Acupuncture yesterday. Chiropractor the 24th. Gil’s birthday on the 6th. So on and on.

Not feeling like myself until yoga and writing are ensconced.

Friday, July 3:

Finally got my messenger bag back, which has all my journaling stuff: The Artist’s Way, mantras, personal, dream.

Journaled a bit today. Have not started on The Artist’s Way yet.

Strong yoga practice. Trained Gil and my Mom — yes, my Mom! — in the afternoon. Gil had a make-up day, since he missed Monday due to oversleeping / me driving to Chico. My Mom, meanwhile — we have been saying for months, if not years, I’d help her with StrongLifts.

Right now she needs more hip flexibility before we even do any squats. It was a lot of frog squats today. She did do overhead press! With the curl bar, but still. Gotta start somewhere! She is awesome!

Then Gil and I went for a chill one-mile recovery run.

Melinda and I are talking. A little bit. Not much. Vented, fought through text the other day. More venting than fighting. But certainly disagreeing. I’m not going to let her live here. I did promise her, but with how unstable she was… with how much we fight every time we hang out in person for an extended period of time…

She’s in hard times, but I can’t be her savior. Maybe we’ll be friends, maybe we won’t.

Jill and I aren’t talking at all. We got into it on Tuesday. It’s a good thing. She’s not a good influence on me. I could have her around as an occasional friend, chat once a month or something, but that’s about it. It’s more like a student-teacher relationship. Which I’m fine with. But we need space.

I’ll always love ’em both. Our relationships are just changing. Mutating.

Life is really good! Gil and I will be performing StrongLifts three times a week, beginning next week! On top of all the yoga!

I’m eating incredibly well. No eating out this month. Save save save. Work is going well. NoFap is going well. I’m significantly more confident in dealing with women. Want to learn some PUA openers, too. I’m so charming and handsome! I want to put my personal power to use! Ahhhh! I’m addicted!

I love being single!

Listened to Rupert Sheldrake on the Joe Rogan Experience. Sheldrake, Hancock, McKenna… It’s like a university education on YouTube! Lectures, talks everywhere!

Wednesday, July 1:

Moon Day!

No Ashtanga. StrongLifts with Gil. Up to 150 in squats, 120 in bent over barbell row, 140 in bench and deadlift, and 115/110 in overhead press.

Little to no soreness or tightness. Adding a third day, bringing it up to three days a week. We do pullups, chin-ups, reverse forearm curls, and push-ups afterwards, and then go on a run.

Extremely motivated, health and fitness wise! I am blasting through previous plateaus!

Acupuncture treatment began last month. Saw a chiropractor, too. Acupuncture, chiropractor and, maybe — hopefully — martial arts are on tap for this month. Pranic healing, too. And Brother Panic’s class (already paid for). These are my extracurricular activities this month.

Expensive, yes. But healing is a requisite. Loving myself. Rewarding myself. So worth it!

The chiropractor found significant misalignment. Dr. Scott Joyce is excellent! In just a few minutes we built a strong connection. What a soul brother! A man crush! Incredible!

Unfortunately, he’s in Chico. He recommended me a doctor down here. Hope he’s half as good. I need it.

Acupuncture will cut back to just one day a week. It’s helping a lot! Sharleen is awesome!

Finances are quite important. I have spent far too much on unworthy women and circumstances full of wishful thinking. Save 1500, pay off most bills (I owe $2600). eat out sparingly, and go from there.

Gil’s birthday is this month, too!

Off to Smash in Los Angeles. Will be updating the journal regularly! That means daily!

June Review:

Alright. Decent. Mediocre. Had its moments. Working out the kinks. Progress marred by inconsistency and ego.

July Goals:

No more fucking around. Discipline, discipline, discipline.

  • Two days a week of Mysore at Addicted to Yoga
  • Three days a week of David Swenson’s 1-hour short form
  • One day a week of some form of practice, whatever I’d like: a short form, a complete practice, a studio day, or just Sun Salutations.
  • First thing in the AM: wake, brush teeth, consume supplements, practice.

Thursday, July 23:

Feel embarrassed at my inability to keep this up.

Sobriety for 11 months as of Tuesday!

Melinda and I have been fighting. One nasty fight where I called the cops. Not too nasty, but yeah. Never call the cops. They don’t do anything. And they’ll certainly treat the Black man as if he must be proven innocent.

We’ve made up. We have to work this out. This is our situation.

We love each other very much. I want to marry her. We’ll get through this. Work has been stressful but is beginning to improve.

The house to ourselves for a month. Mom in New Jersey.

Lifted yesterday. Gil and Melinda. Registered for school last week — three classes. What else?

Monday, July 13:

Food poisoning.

But that’s not the whole story. Friday? I don’t think I did anything. Saturday? One hour. Sunday, Monday: none.

Food poisoning Saturday. Barfing three days in a row, including today.

But something feels off…

Thursday, July 9:

One day at a time, baby.

One hour personal practice this morning. 8:30 AM start time. 45-minute Swenson short form. It was a good practice. Tight at first. The lifting is beginning to affect me. A little stiff. But not too stiff. Was very tired. Powered through it.

Tomorrow: 90-minute practice with Janus.

Let’s a go!

Wednesday, July 8:

I dunno what’s going on.

Yesterday: none. Today: it’s 8PM and I haven’t started. Will do an hour after this. Missed morning Mysore.

Monday: One hour.

Sunday and Saturday: off.

Let’s get back on track.

Friday, July 3:

90-minute Ashtanga practice with Janus at Yellow Yoga!

We did the entire Primary Series, but it was rushed towards the end.

She just came back from a two-week intensive with Tim Miller and had a number of nifty adjustments. Incredible practice, although her pacing was off by quite a bit.

Yoga practice has become more challenging. I have been learning a lot recently. My downward dog, for instance, has been completely rehauled. Much longer. My feet were far too wide. It’s extremely strenuous now.

I eschewed downward dog before Virabhadrasana B in Surya Namaskara B until Alex at Ashtanga Seattle corrected me, too. Now Surya Namaskara is significantly more challenging.

Acupuncture is truly helping my practice in ways I never fathomed. My head easily touches the ground in Prasarita A and D now. Maybe six to eight months ago my head was touching the ground, for a month or three. Then, for whatever reason, it wasn’t. Now it is, more easily than it ever had before.

Why? I believe it’s due to energy blockages being cleared up. It’s permeating my entire life, too, not just yoga.

David Swenson has a workshop in Dana Point October 18. Kino MacGregor in Orange County on the 28th of October, I believe. Five-day intensive. $750.

No price point on the Swenson one. I may go to both. I am certainly going to Kino’s.

Thursday, July 2:

One-hour short form:

Surya Namaskara A & B, 5x

Standing Sequence:


Uttita Trikonasana

Utthita Parsvakonasana

Prasarita Padottanasana A, C

Uttita Hasta Padangusthasana A

Ardha Baddha Padmottanasana

Utkatasana, Virabhadrasana A & B

Primary Series:

Dandasana, Paschimottanasana A

Ardha Baddha Padma Paschimottanasana

Janu Sirsasana A

Marichyasana A, C

Navasana (x3) (not including handstands)

Baddha Konasana A & B

Upavishta Konasana A

Finishing Sequence:

Urdhva Dhanurasana x3; Paschimottanasana B (10 breaths)

Sarvangasana (10 breaths)

Halasana, Karnapindasana

Urdhva Padmasana, Pindasana

Matsyasana, Uttana Padasana

Sirsasana A (10 breaths), Sirsasana B (5 breaths)

Baddha Padmasana, Padmasana, Tolasana (5 breaths)


The practice is growing! This was challenging at first, but then it was fun. The Sun Salutations are still the most challenging part of the practice. Not sure what time this was, but it certainly… wait, it was about 9:15 AM.

Wednesday, July 1:

Moon Day: Full Moon in Capricorn!

Driving the seven and a half hours from Chico (Northern California) to Pomona (Southern California) offers plenty of time to think.

The relationship between Melinda and I ended as quickly as it began. The Moon in Aries — impetuous starts that may not have sustaining power — provided a hint. The last quarter moon: not a fortuitous omen for relationships, but not an indictment, either, assuming the two parties are capable of a mature relationship. And so close to a New Moon. Was advised to wait 12 to 18 hours after the New Moon was exact (around 7:05 AM PST on Tuesday, June 16); instead, that’s about when I arrived.

“I left my Dynamics of the Unconscious book,” I grumbled to myself. And the parking ticket I acquired, the one that Melinda — she also goes by Mindi, but I’ve long been a fan of addressing people by their full name — offered to take care of.

I left my New Mood supplement, too, a near-full bottle. And she has about a month and a half supply of three other high-quality Onnit supplements, ones I gave as gifts, but would spitefully like returned.

And the couple thousand, too, the majority of that in opportunity cost: the week spent up north, not working, an impromptu vacation. Various “investments” into our relationship: groceries, chiropractic care, gas, whatever else slips my mind.

Yet in totality I have zero regrets. I put my all into it and it didn’t work out. How could I possibly be disappointed? Let the cards fall as they may. And oh the insight gained!

After a perfectly harmonious start, the fights began to pile up three or four days in. Two or three times I was this close to leaving; one time in particular was nasty, with all of my bags packed, threats of calling the cops, venomous vindictive spewed, and so forth. I lost my cool in a detached, incisive manner. When Melinda loses her cool, she erupts enough magma for the both of us.

I’m far from perfect, but if nothing else I possess a tremendous ability to distill issues into their root causes.

Our last fight was actually quite diplomatic on my part. Truly illustrative of the fundamental issues preventing a healthful relationship, which is why I felt great leaving, and feel great even as I type these words.

Melinda felt attacked and criticized by my words and demeanor. She became defensive and shut down, at which point I, annoyed by the recurring pattern, said a few needling things and walked away. After an hour or so of cool-off, we began to discuss, via text, the issues.

I am open to being wrong. It doesn’t bother me. I love learning, and her perception of things is important to me. But where the communication continually broke down, in my opinion, is in her insecurities: the unstated, unchallenged assumptions; her unwillingness to admit fault; her habit of blaming me for her emotions. For example, a comment I would make would be unequivocally interpreted as “rude.” In my book there is a substantial difference in “I feel like,” or “from my perspective” and “You are being rude.” One acknowledges the implicit subjective reality and offers an unstated olive branch of reconciliation; the other is divisive, shifting responsibility of self-management from the one offended to the one who allegedly did the offending.

At one point I linked her to a Psychology Today article about managing emotions — The Myth of Managing Emotions — which has the incisive opening statement of, “One of the great secrets of life is that it’s not all about you.” How convenient: my point succinctly stated!

She quoted the “Unless we do something intentionally hurtful to another person…” part and said, “How do I know it’s not intentional? From my perspective it is.” I asked: “Have you ever stopped and asked?” She said no.

Lest you believe we were getting somewhere, however, she followed that up with: “Why are you so aggressive and unpleasant?”

That was the end of discussion for me. It was my turn to shut down. I warned her that this was the pattern: blaming and insulting me made me shut down. I do not participate in childish conversations. If you want to put on your big girl pants and have a sincere, tactful, patient, honest discussion? I’m there. Name-calling and blame-shifting? I’m out of here. The only way to win is to not play the game.

I told her something to the extent of, “I am not going to justify that comment with a response,” saying we will resume this when we can have a mature discussion.

It was near my bedtime. I had shared with her many hours earlier that I would be going to bed at 10 PM, in order to get up early for yoga and a subsequent trip to Mt. Shasta, which we planned on attending. Due to the fight I had no idea if we would go, but I did not care; I was going myself if I had to.

I try to go to sleep and she is adamant on starting a fight. I calmly ask her a yes or no question — she was complaining about the light being on/off, so I kindly asked her if she could turn it off when she was done — and she refused to answer, instead choosing (in my opinion, of course) to incite drama.

I again asked the question. I said if she said yes, that would be fine. If she said no, that would be fine too; I would simply seek accomodations elsewhere.

She refused to calm down, so I simply left.

Minimal drama this time around. She continued trying to get a rise out of me, pushing my things around, chirping and buzzing about, but I was done. I was polite, wished her the best, and left to the sound of her calling/texting me a liar, womanizer, and whatever else.

Before Jill and Melinda, I had 5.7K saved.

After? $0.

That stings, but it’s also no one’s fault but my own. I have learned many valuable lessons. For the next 12 months, minimum, I am going to be single. I will not even consider a romantic relationship.

The way I see it, surgery on the subconscious is needed. As Brother Panic says, nothing will change until the subconscious is changed. You can do all you want with the conscious mind. It doesn’t mean shit.

I have a good idea of what needs to be done, and I will not stop until a massive amount of progress is made. Just like after my first relationship with Anne, at age 19, went up in flames, how I refused to even think about romance until I worked extensively on myself. It took five years! But it was worth it.

Now a similar period is needed.

Thank you, Jill and Melinda, for the lessons learned. And this blog post is only the beginning: space will be used in the near future to expound more on the individual lessons learned, fine-tuning the game-plan.

I have not spoken to Jill in about eight days. It has been difficult at times. Earlier today I felt an urge; instead Gil and I worked out for a couple of hours. I wrote a blog post a few days ago about crossing her out of my life, once and for all; it was public for a few short hours before I made it private.

My feelings have not changed. I want nothing to do with Jill or Melinda. There is not much animosity. Towards Melinda there is surprisingly little. She’s a good girl going through a rough time. I would say I wish her the best, but the truth is I don’t want to wish her anything; I wash my hands and am done with it.

I have stronger feelings towards Jill, oddly enough. But I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Jill is nothing but stagnancy. Melinda said it well: how can anyone feel on anti-depressants? They make you numb. Jill is numb. That is a certainty. She is completely out of sync with her destiny — she’s a double Cancer! — and only stagnancy and complacency will come from her influence.

Fortunately, I truly am happy and in love with life. My zest for life is not impacted whether I am single or in a relationship. I do not feel “completed” when I am in a relationship. I feel the same energetic, ambitious self!

I refuse to settle. I have gone from Caitlin (10 months) to Jill (two months) to Melinda (two weeks). That is how much shrewder I am becoming at identifying and removing myself from co-dependent and imbalanced relationships. Settling is completely out of my system.

Feels good, man!

Jill is toxic.

She is manipulative, selfish, and deceiving.

I have inordinate amounts of resentment towards her. The most important thing I need to do is cut her from my life.

What positive influence does she offer? She is one of the most negative, miserable people I’ve ever met. Deeply mired in the morass of her own hopeless life, she drags me down every further second I give her energy and power over me.

When I told her I did not ever want to hear from her again, I was being true to myself. When I wrote that I did not want to be her friend, I was on to something.

I trust her as far as I can throw her. She cannot be counted on for honest and forthcoming communication. She lies copiously, not understanding that lies by omission are still lies.

Fortunately I have found someone much better than her, a complete upgrade in every single way. She is committed, understanding, empathic, strong, and loves me to death. It took meeting her to see just how abusive, dependent and soul-sucking relating with Jill truly was/is.

No more. Jill, there is nothing you could say, nothing you are capable of saying. You never loved me. You used me.

I allow myself to be used no more. Find another victim, parasite.

I wouldn’t take another way
Even on the darkest night
Even on the coldest day
And I’ll never know if that was right ’til it’s too late
So I guess I do this my way

I’ve been lost. Seemingly defeated: no allies, no faith, no light. No health, no trust; only shame.

What do you do when you’re lost?

I looked back to my childhood. What have I always loved? What have I always been good at?

For me? Reading.

Reading led to other passions. Writing. Which leads to self-discovery.

What Sims is talking about here is being headstrong. I may not have known what I wanted, but I knew what I didn’t want. I didn’t want to be lost, but it was my fault. So I would be the one to drag myself out of it.

He is also touching on spirituality. I forget who said it, but it goes something like this: Go confidently in one direction, whether it is right or wrong. It is only by truly committing to a direction that you can realize if you’re even going the right way.

To live up to your own self-discovery requires courage. Because it is not going to be the path that everyone else is taking. It’s unique for a reason.

I ride great like five strings
Doing solos around the whole globe
And I expand like rubber band
Show you how low can a soul go

Not only has he been in the darkest of places, he’s able to show you: proof in and of itself that he has conquered, or at the very least shone concentrated light, on the pits of despair. The result: shadows, illuminated.

“Expand like rubber band”: this is the destiny of the soul. It is not about “elevating”; it is about expanding. We are here to explore our humanity!

And I snap in half, and I put it back
No illusion: I go into it with no delusion
I don’t know it,  I just fucking do it, ain’t nuthin’ to it

You will break. That’s part and parcel of being headstrong. If you’re not breaking, you’re not doing it right!

He went into it with no delusion; the purification is scalding, but it is true that the scars beared are tougher and thicker than the skin before it.

Yet going into it with no delusion is also the way out. It’s both the way in and the way out!

Matter of fact, there is no delusion because delusion is a conscious construct. He “doesn’t know” it; that’s because it’s beyond knowing; right-brained, not left-brained. Creative, not reductive.

The creative process is what he’s talking about. There is no analyzing it. Dive deep and create. When you do that? It’s easy; it comes naturally; it always wants to play!

Fear got no business here
But it don’t disappear, just live near

Fear is used as motivation. Nay, motivation isn’t the word: it’s simply kept in an museum, a glass jar, with the practitioner  aware of its amplifying effects.  Fear is not within the creative process, but it is never too far. You can never create anything of substantive value if you are afraid! Yet an intimate relationship with fear, an acknowledgement of what it is and nothing more, can be used to propel the art to new heights. It is the pressure that allows the water to boil, for the impurities to rise to the surface, molded through expression, whilst the base churns and purifies.

And I let that settle, just prove my mettle
And I never peddle that sentimental

Fear exists to be overcome!

The sentimental is the trite. Sentiment is stagnant. One cannot create if one is stuck about what has been.

Call my manager, tell him I don’t give a fuck
Shoulda quit years ago
A buck? Goddammit, I do what I love
And all my heroes are broke, so

The energy and emotion in the last two lines gets me every time.

I push ’til I break, then I find me some tape
Been that way since I was a boy
And I found that it snaps when it’s wound too tightly
Now I do it lightly with time to enjoy

Could this stanza been stated any more eloquently?! It’s that non-attachment, the Zen-like demeanor: process over results.

This song right here is matter-of-fact inspiration.

You and yoga.

Yoga, as in union. Union with the Divine, but truly, the Divine in the Self. One and the same.

As we become intimate with the energies within our own body, we simultaneously open ourselves up to the energy within the entire Cosmos.

This summer, for me, is all about “you and yoga,” as Mike tha Don so aptly put it.

Healing. Purging. Rest and Relaxation. Discipline. Creativity.

Organization and structure. Self-value and self-love. Travel.

Visiting my best friend in Boston in August. Buying the ticket in about 10 days. Will stay for a week and check out New York, too.

Just bought The Artist’s Way and will begin the 12-week program soon. I plan on spending a couple of hours every day on my writing and research pursuits.

Brother Panic’s four-week metaphysics class begins in about 10 days.

Yoga six days a week. The practice is becoming quite strong. My energy levels are stabilizing and are almost always sky-high. Sleep quality has been excellent since New Mood. I increasingly have no problems waking up at 5:30-6, practicing yoga and other necessities, and maintaining most of my energy or taking an afternoon power nap before a restful sleep around 10 closes the cycle.

There is still much purging occurring. Phlegm has been a non-stop daily reality for the past eight to ten weeks. Occasional bouts of fatigue, anxiety and restlessness have occurred the past two months, but for now seem to be completely abating.

I am undergoing acupuncture treatments for the chronic tension and rigidity storehoused within my jaw and neck area. There is no doubt a lot more trauma will break up, ready to disperse.

Toss in building a new website, taking a Thai massage workshop or two, lifting and running multiple times a week with Gil, connecting with my friends, taking Level One pranic healing certification, the exciting travails of work, and so on, and my days are exciting!

Fall semester begins August 17th. Let’s make the most of this break!


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